An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations
Introduction and Plan of the Work
18th-century English
The annual labour of every nation is the fund which originally supplies it with all the necessaries and conveniencies of life which it annually consumes, and which consist always either in the immediate produce of that labour, or in what is purchased with that produce from other nations.
According, therefore, as this produce, or what is purchased with it, bears a greater or smaller proportion to the number of those who are to consume it, the nation will be better or worse supplied with all the necessaries and conveniencies for which it has occasion.
But this proportion must in every nation be regulated by two different circumstances: first, by the skill, dexterity, and judgment with which its labour is generally applied; and, secondly, by the proportion between the number of those who are employed in useful labour, and that of those who are not so employed. Whatever be the soil, climate, or extent of territory of any particular nation, the abundance or scantiness of its annual supply must, in that particular situation, depend upon those two circumstances.
The abundance or scantiness of this supply, too, seems to depend more upon the former of those two circumstances than upon the latter. Among the savage nations of hunters and fishers, every individual who is able to work is more or less employed in useful labour, and endeavours to provide, as well as he can, the necessaries and conveniencies of life, for himself, and such of his family or tribe as are either too old, or too young, or too infirm, to go a-hunting and fishing. Such nations, however, are so miserably poor, that, from mere want, they are frequently reduced, or at least think themselves reduced, to the necessity sometimes of directly destroying, and sometimes of abandoning their infants, their old people, and those afflicted with lingering diseases, to perish with hunger, or to be devoured by wild beasts. Among civilized and thriving nations, on the contrary, though a great number of people do not labour at all, many of whom consume the produce of ten times, frequently of a hundred times, more labour than the greater part of those who work; yet the produce of the whole labour of the society is so great, that all are often abundantly supplied; and a workman, even of the lowest and poorest order, if he is frugal and industrious, may enjoy a greater share of the necessaries and conveniencies of life than it is possible for any savage to acquire.
The causes of this improvement in the productive powers of labour, and the order according to which its produce is naturally distributed among the different ranks and conditions of men in the society, make the subject of the first book of this Inquiry.
Whatever be the actual state of the skill, dexterity, and judgment, with which labour is applied in any nation, the abundance or scantiness of its annual supply must depend, during the continuance of that state, upon the proportion between the number of those who are annually employed in useful labour, and that of those who are not so employed. The number of useful and productive labourers, it will hereafter appear, is everywhere in proportion to the quantity of capital stock which is employed in setting them to work, and to the particular way in which it is so employed. The second book, therefore, treats of the nature of capital stock, of the manner in which it is gradually accumulated, and of the different quantities of labour which it puts into motion, according to the different ways in which it is employed.
Nations tolerably well advanced as to skill, dexterity, and judgment, in the application of labour, have followed very different plans in the general conduct or direction of it; and those plans have not all been equally favourable to the greatness of its produce. The policy of some nations has given extraordinary encouragement to the industry of the country; that of others to the industry of towns. Scarce any nation has dealt equally and impartially with every sort of industry. Since the down-fall of the Roman empire, the policy of Europe has been more favourable to arts, manufactures, and commerce, the industry of towns, than to agriculture, the Industry of the country. The circumstances which seem to have introduced and established this policy are explained in the third book.
Though those different plans were, perhaps, first introduced by the private interests and prejudices of particular orders of men, without any regard to, or foresight of, their consequences upon the general welfare of the society; yet they have given occasion to very different theories of political economy; of which some magnify the importance of that industry which is carried on in towns, others of that which is carried on in the country. Those theories have had a considerable influence, not only upon the opinions of men of learning, but upon the public conduct of princes and sovereign states. I have endeavoured, in the fourth book, to explain as fully and distinctly as I can those different theories, and the principal effects which they have produced in different ages and nations.
To explain in what has consisted the revenue of the great body of the people, or what has been the nature of those funds, which, in different ages and nations, have supplied their annual consumption, is the object of these four first books. The fifth and last book treats of the revenue of the sovereign, or commonwealth. In this book I have endeavoured to shew, first, what are the necessary expenses of the sovereign, or commonwealth; which of those expenses ought to be defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society, and which of them, by that of some particular part only, or of some particular members of it: secondly, what are the different methods in which the whole society may be made to contribute towards defraying the expenses incumbent on the whole society, and what are the principal advantages and inconveniencies of each of those methods; and, thirdly and lastly, what are the reasons and causes which have induced almost all modern governments to mortgage some part of this revenue, or to contract debts; and what have been the effects of those debts upon the real wealth, the annual produce of the land and labour of the society.
English
The annual labor of every nation is the fund that originally supplies it with all the necessities and conveniences of life it consumes each year. These consist either of the immediate produce of that labor or of what is purchased from other nations with that produce.
Accordingly, as this produce, or what is purchased with it, bears a greater or smaller proportion to the number of people who must consume it, the nation will be better or worse supplied with the necessities and conveniences it requires.
But in every nation this proportion must be governed by two distinct circumstances: first, the skill, dexterity, and judgment with which its labor is generally applied; and second, the proportion between the number employed in useful labor and the number not so employed. Whatever a particular nation’s soil, climate, or extent of territory, the abundance or scarcity of its annual supply must, in its particular circumstances, depend on these two things.
The abundance or scarcity of this supply, moreover, seems to depend more on the first circumstance than on the second. Among nations of hunters and fishers, every person able to work is more or less employed in useful labor and tries, as best he can, to provide the necessities and conveniences of life for himself and for those members of his family or tribe too old, too young, or too infirm to hunt and fish. Yet such nations are so desperately poor that sheer want frequently reduces them, or at least makes them think themselves reduced, to the necessity of sometimes killing their infants, their old people, and those suffering from lingering diseases outright, and sometimes abandoning them to starve or to be devoured by wild beasts. Among civilized and thriving nations, by contrast, a great many people do not labor at all, and many of these consume the produce of ten times, often a hundred times, more labor than most of those who work. Yet the produce of the whole society’s labor is so great that all are often abundantly supplied; and a worker even of the lowest and poorest rank, if frugal and industrious, may enjoy a greater share of life’s necessities and conveniences than any hunter or fisher in those nations could possibly acquire.
The causes of this improvement in the productive powers of labor, and the order in which its produce is naturally distributed among the different ranks and conditions of people in society, are the subject of the first book of this Inquiry.
Whatever the actual state of the skill, dexterity, and judgment with which labor is applied in any nation, the abundance or scarcity of its annual supply must, so long as that state continues, depend on the proportion between those employed each year in useful labor and those not so employed. As will appear later, the number of useful and productive laborers everywhere bears a proportion to the quantity of capital stock employed to set them to work and to the particular way in which it is employed. The second book therefore treats of the nature of capital stock, how it gradually accumulates, and the differing quantities of labor it sets in motion according to the ways in which it is employed.
Nations reasonably advanced in the skill, dexterity, and judgment with which they apply labor have followed very different plans for its general conduct or direction; not all of these plans have favored the greatness of its produce equally. The policy of some nations has given extraordinary encouragement to the industry of the countryside; that of others, to the industry of towns. Hardly any nation has treated every kind of industry equally and impartially. Since the fall of the Roman empire, European policy has favored arts, manufactures, and commerce—the industry of towns—more than agriculture, the industry of the countryside. The circumstances that seem to have introduced and established this policy are explained in the third book.
Though these different plans may first have been introduced by the private interests and prejudices of particular groups of people, with neither regard for nor foresight of their effects on society’s general welfare, they have given rise to very different theories of political economy. Some exalt the importance of the industry carried on in towns, others that carried on in the countryside. These theories have considerably influenced not only the opinions of learned people but the public conduct of princes and sovereign states. In the fourth book I have tried to explain these different theories, and their principal effects in different ages and nations, as fully and distinctly as I can.
The object of these first four books is to explain what has constituted the revenue of the great body of the people, or the nature of the funds that have supplied their annual consumption in different ages and nations. The fifth and final book treats of the revenue of the sovereign or commonwealth. In it I have tried to show, first, which expenses are necessary to the sovereign or commonwealth, which of them ought to be met by the general contribution of the whole society, and which by the contribution of only some particular part or particular members of it; second, the different ways in which the whole society may be made to contribute toward meeting the expenses incumbent on it, and the chief advantages and disadvantages of each way; and third and last, the reasons and causes that have led almost all modern governments to mortgage part of this revenue or to contract debts, and the effects of those debts on real wealth—the annual produce of society’s land and labor.
Book I, Chapter I, 1
18th-century English
OF THE CAUSES OF IMPROVEMENT IN THE PRODUCTIVE POWERS OF LABOUR, AND OF THE ORDER ACCORDING TO WHICH ITS PRODUCE IS NATURALLY DISTRIBUTED AMONG THE DIFFERENT RANKS OF THE PEOPLE.
OF THE DIVISION OF LABOUR.
The greatest improvements in the productive powers of labour, and the greater part of the skill, dexterity, and judgment, with which it is anywhere directed, or applied, seem to have been the effects of the division of labour. The effects of the division of labour, in the general business of society, will be more easily understood, by considering in what manner it operates in some particular manufactures. It is commonly supposed to be carried furthest in some very trifling ones; not perhaps that it really is carried further in them than in others of more importance: but in those trifling manufactures which are destined to supply the small wants of but a small number of people, the whole number of workmen must necessarily be small; and those employed in every different branch of the work can often be collected into the same workhouse, and placed at once under the view of the spectator.
In those great manufactures, on the contrary, which are destined to supply the great wants of the great body of the people, every different branch of the work employs so great a number of workmen, that it is impossible to collect them all into the same workhouse. We can seldom see more, at one time, than those employed in one single branch. Though in such manufactures, therefore, the work may really be divided into a much greater number of parts, than in those of a more trifling nature, the division is not near so obvious, and has accordingly been much less observed.
To take an example, therefore, from a very trifling manufacture, but one in which the division of labour has been very often taken notice of, the trade of a pin-maker: a workman not educated to this business (which the division of labour has rendered a distinct trade), nor acquainted with the use of the machinery employed in it (to the invention of which the same division of labour has probably given occasion), could scarce, perhaps, with his utmost industry, make one pin in a day, and certainly could not make twenty. But in the way in which this business is now carried on, not only the whole work is a peculiar trade, but it is divided into a number of branches, of which the greater part are likewise peculiar trades. One man draws out the wire; another straights it; a third cuts it; a fourth points it; a fifth grinds it at the top for receiving the head; to make the head requires two or three distinct operations; to put it on is a peculiar business; to whiten the pins is another; it is even a trade by itself to put them into the paper; and the important business of making a pin is, in this manner, divided into about eighteen distinct operations, which, in some manufactories, are all performed by distinct hands, though in others the same man will sometimes perform two or three of them. I have seen a small manufactory of this kind, where ten men only were employed, and where some of them consequently performed two or three distinct operations. But though they were very poor, and therefore but indifferently accommodated with the necessary machinery, they could, when they exerted themselves, make among them about twelve pounds of pins in a day. There are in a pound upwards of four thousand pins of a middling size. Those ten persons, therefore, could make among them upwards of forty-eight thousand pins in a day. Each person, therefore, making a tenth part of forty-eight thousand pins, might be considered as making four thousand eight hundred pins in a day. But if they had all wrought separately and independently, and without any of them having been educated to this peculiar business, they certainly could not each of them have made twenty, perhaps not one pin in a day; that is, certainly, not the two hundred and fortieth, perhaps not the four thousand eight hundredth, part of what they are at present capable of performing, in consequence of a proper division and combination of their different operations.
In every other art and manufacture, the effects of the division of labour are similar to what they are in this very trifling one, though, in many of them, the labour can neither be so much subdivided, nor reduced to so great a simplicity of operation. The division of labour, however, so far as it can be introduced, occasions, in every art, a proportionable increase of the productive powers of labour. The separation of different trades and employments from one another, seems to have taken place in consequence of this advantage. This separation, too, is generally carried furthest in those countries which enjoy the highest degree of industry and improvement; what is the work of one man, in a rude state of society, being generally that of several in an improved one. In every improved society, the farmer is generally nothing but a farmer; the manufacturer, nothing but a manufacturer. The labour, too, which is necessary to produce any one complete manufacture, is almost always divided among a great number of hands. How many different trades are employed in each branch of the linen and woollen manufactures, from the growers of the flax and the wool, to the bleachers and smoothers of the linen, or to the dyers and dressers of the cloth! The nature of agriculture, indeed, does not admit of so many subdivisions of labour, nor of so complete a separation of one business from another, as manufactures. It is impossible to separate so entirely the business of the grazier from that of the corn-farmer, as the trade of the carpenter is commonly separated from that of the smith. The spinner is almost always a distinct person from the weaver; but the ploughman, the harrower, the sower of the seed, and the reaper of the corn, are often the same. The occasions for those different sorts of labour returning with the different seasons of the year, it is impossible that one man should be constantly employed in any one of them. This impossibility of making so complete and entire a separation of all the different branches of labour employed in agriculture, is perhaps the reason why the improvement of the productive powers of labour, in this art, does not always keep pace with their improvement in manufactures. The most opulent nations, indeed, generally excel all their neighbours in agriculture as well as in manufactures; but they are commonly more distinguished by their superiority in the latter than in the former. Their lands are in general better cultivated, and having more labour and expense bestowed upon them, produce more in proportion to the extent and natural fertility of the ground. But this superiority of produce is seldom much more than in proportion to the superiority of labour and expense. In agriculture, the labour of the rich country is not always much more productive than that of the poor; or, at least, it is never so much more productive, as it commonly is in manufactures. The corn of the rich country, therefore, will not always, in the same degree of goodness, come cheaper to market than that of the poor. The corn of Poland, in the same degree of goodness, is as cheap as that of France, notwithstanding the superior opulence and improvement of the latter country. The corn of France is, in the corn-provinces, fully as good, and in most years nearly about the same price with the corn of England, though, in opulence and improvement, France is perhaps inferior to England. The corn-lands of England, however, are better cultivated than those of France, and the corn-lands of France are said to be much better cultivated than those of Poland. But though the poor country, notwithstanding the inferiority of its cultivation, can, in some measure, rival the rich in the cheapness and goodness of its corn, it can pretend to no such competition in its manufactures, at least if those manufactures suit the soil, climate, and situation, of the rich country. The silks of France are better and cheaper than those of England, because the silk manufacture, at least under the present high duties upon the importation of raw silk, does not so well suit the climate of England as that of France. But the hardware and the coarse woollens of England are beyond all comparison superior to those of France, and much cheaper, too, in the same degree of goodness. In Poland there are said to be scarce any manufactures of any kind, a few of those coarser household manufactures excepted, without which no country can well subsist.
This great increase in the quantity of work, which, in consequence of the division of labour, the same number of people are capable of performing, is owing to three different circumstances; first, to the increase of dexterity in every particular workman; secondly, to the saving of the time which is commonly lost in passing from one species of work to another; and, lastly, to the invention of a great number of machines which facilitate and abridge labour, and enable one man to do the work of many.
First, the improvement of the dexterity of the workmen, necessarily increases the quantity of the work he can perform; and the division of labour, by reducing every man’s business to some one simple operation, and by making this operation the sole employment of his life, necessarily increases very much the dexterity of the workman. A common smith, who, though accustomed to handle the hammer, has never been used to make nails, if, upon some particular occasion, he is obliged to attempt it, will scarce, I am assured, be able to make above two or three hundred nails in a day, and those, too, very bad ones. A smith who has been accustomed to make nails, but whose sole or principal business has not been that of a nailer, can seldom, with his utmost diligence, make more than eight hundred or a thousand nails in a day. I have seen several boys, under twenty years of age, who had never exercised any other trade but that of making nails, and who, when they exerted themselves, could make, each of them, upwards of two thousand three hundred nails in a day. The making of a nail, however, is by no means one of the simplest operations. The same person blows the bellows, stirs or mends the fire as there is occasion, heats the iron, and forges every part of the nail: in forging the head, too, he is obliged to change his tools. The different operations into which the making of a pin, or of a metal button, is subdivided, are all of them much more simple, and the dexterity of the person, of whose life it has been the sole business to perform them, is usually much greater. The rapidity with which some of the operations of those manufactures are performed, exceeds what the human hand could, by those who had never seen them, be supposed capable of acquiring.
English
Of the Causes of Improvement in the Productive Powers of Labor, and of the Order According to Which Its Produce Is Naturally Distributed Among the Different Ranks of the People.
Of the Division of Labor.
The greatest improvements in the productive powers of labor, and most of the skill, dexterity, and judgment with which it is anywhere directed or applied, seem to have resulted from the division of labor. Its effects in the general business of society are easier to understand if we consider how it works in particular manufactures. It is commonly supposed to be carried furthest in some very minor ones—not, perhaps, because the division actually goes further in them than in more important manufactures, but because in those minor trades that supply the small needs of a small number of people, the total number of workers must be small. Those employed in each different branch of the work can often be gathered into one workshop and brought all at once within the observer’s view.
By contrast, in the great manufactures that supply the great needs of the great body of the people, each branch employs so many workers that it is impossible to gather them all into one workshop. We can seldom see more than those employed in a single branch at any one time. Thus, although the work in these manufactures may actually be divided into many more parts than in less important ones, its division is far less obvious and has accordingly drawn much less notice.
Let us therefore take an example from a very minor manufacture in which the division of labor has often been observed: pin-making. A worker untrained in this business, which the division of labor has made a separate trade, and unfamiliar with the machinery it uses, whose invention the same division has probably prompted, could scarcely make one pin a day with his utmost industry, and certainly could not make twenty. But as the business is now conducted, not only is the whole work a specialized trade; it is divided into a number of branches, most of which are themselves specialized trades. One man draws out the wire, another straightens it, a third cuts it, a fourth points it, and a fifth grinds its top to receive the head. Making the head requires two or three separate operations; putting it on is a distinct business; whitening the pins is another; even putting them into the paper is a trade in itself. Thus the important business of making a pin is divided into about eighteen distinct operations. In some factories these are all done by different hands; in others, one man sometimes performs two or three of them. I have seen a small factory of this kind employing only ten men, some of whom consequently performed two or three different operations. Although they were very poor and therefore only poorly supplied with the necessary machinery, they could, when they exerted themselves, make about twelve pounds of pins among them in a day. A pound contains upwards of four thousand pins of middling size. Those ten people, therefore, could together make upwards of forty-eight thousand pins a day. Each, making a tenth of forty-eight thousand pins, might thus be considered to make four thousand eight hundred pins a day. But if all had worked separately and independently, none having been trained in this particular business, each certainly could not have made twenty, and perhaps could not have made even one pin a day. That is certainly not a two hundred and fortieth, and perhaps not a four thousand eight hundredth, part of what a proper division and combination of their different operations now enables them to produce.
In every other art and manufacture the effects of the division of labor resemble those in this very minor one, though in many of them the labor can neither be subdivided so far nor reduced to operations so simple. Yet, so far as it can be introduced, the division of labor produces a proportionate increase in the productive powers of labor in every art. The separation of different trades and employments appears to have arisen from this advantage. It is generally carried furthest, too, in the countries enjoying the highest degree of industry and improvement. What one person does in an undeveloped society generally becomes the work of several in an improved one. In every improved society the farmer is generally only a farmer, the manufacturer only a manufacturer. The labor needed to produce any one finished manufactured article is also almost always divided among many hands. Consider how many different trades take part in each branch of linen and woolen manufacture, from the growers of flax and wool to the bleachers and smoothers of linen, or the dyers and finishers of cloth! Agriculture, indeed, cannot by its nature admit so many subdivisions of labor or so complete a separation of one occupation from another as manufacture can. The work of the grazier cannot be separated as entirely from that of the grain farmer as the carpenter’s trade is commonly separated from the smith’s. The spinner is nearly always distinct from the weaver, but the plowman, the harrower, the sower of seed, and the reaper of grain are often the same person. Because the need for these different sorts of work returns with the different seasons, no one person can be employed constantly in any one of them. This impossibility of completely separating all the branches of agricultural labor may explain why improvement in its productive powers does not always keep pace with improvement in manufactures. The wealthiest nations generally surpass all their neighbors in agriculture as well as in manufactures, but their superiority is commonly more marked in the latter than the former. Their land is generally better cultivated and, with more labor and expense devoted to it, produces more in proportion to its area and natural fertility. But this superiority in produce seldom exceeds by much the superiority in labor and expense. In agriculture, the labor of a rich country is not always much more productive than that of a poor one, or at least never so much more productive as it commonly is in manufactures. The grain of the rich country, therefore, will not always reach market more cheaply than that of the poor country when both are of the same quality. Polish grain is as cheap as French grain of the same quality, despite France’s superior wealth and improvement. In the grain-producing provinces, French grain is fully as good as English grain and costs nearly the same in most years, though France is perhaps inferior to England in wealth and improvement. England’s grainlands, however, are better cultivated than France’s, and France’s are said to be much better cultivated than Poland’s. Yet although the poor country can, despite inferior cultivation, rival the rich to some extent in the price and quality of its grain, it cannot claim any comparable rivalry in manufactures, at least when the manufactures suit the rich country’s soil, climate, and situation. French silks are better and cheaper than English silks because silk-making, at least under the present high duties on imports of raw silk, suits the climate of France better than that of England. But English hardware and coarse woolens are incomparably better than their French counterparts, and much cheaper at the same quality. In Poland there are said to be hardly any manufactures at all apart from a few of the coarser household kinds without which no country can well survive.
This great increase in the quantity of work that the same number of people can perform through the division of labor arises from three different circumstances: first, greater dexterity in each particular worker; second, the saving of time commonly lost in moving from one sort of work to another; and last, the invention of numerous machines that make labor easier and shorter and allow one person to do the work of many.
First, improved dexterity in a worker necessarily increases the quantity of work he can perform. By reducing each person’s business to one simple operation and making that operation his lifelong occupation, the division of labor necessarily increases his dexterity greatly. An ordinary smith who is used to handling a hammer but has never made nails, if required on a particular occasion to try, could scarcely make more than two or three hundred nails in a day, I am told, and those very poor ones. A smith accustomed to making nails, but who does not make them as his sole or principal business, can seldom make more than eight hundred or a thousand nails a day even with his utmost diligence. I have seen several boys under twenty years of age who had never practiced any trade other than nail-making and who, when they exerted themselves, could each make upwards of two thousand three hundred nails a day. Yet making a nail is by no means one of the simplest operations. The same person works the bellows, stirs or tends the fire as necessary, heats the iron, and forges every part of the nail; to forge the head he must also change tools. The separate operations into which pin-making or metal-button-making is divided are all much simpler, and the dexterity of a person who has spent his life performing them alone is usually much greater. The speed with which some operations in these manufactures are performed surpasses what anyone who has never seen them would suppose the human hand capable of acquiring.
Book I, Chapter I, 2
18th-century English
Secondly, the advantage which is gained by saving the time commonly lost in passing from one sort of work to another, is much greater than we should at first view be apt to imagine it. It is impossible to pass very quickly from one kind of work to another, that is carried on in a different place, and with quite different tools. A country weaver, who cultivates a small farm, must lose a good deal of time in passing from his loom to the field, and from the field to his loom. When the two trades can be carried on in the same workhouse, the loss of time is, no doubt, much less. It is, even in this case, however, very considerable. A man commonly saunters a little in turning his hand from one sort of employment to another. When he first begins the new work, he is seldom very keen and hearty; his mind, as they say, does not go to it, and for some time he rather trifles than applies to good purpose. The habit of sauntering, and of indolent careless application, which is naturally, or rather necessarily, acquired by every country workman who is obliged to change his work and his tools every half hour, and to apply his hand in twenty different ways almost every day of his life, renders him almost always slothful and lazy, and incapable of any vigorous application, even on the most pressing occasions. Independent, therefore, of his deficiency in point of dexterity, this cause alone must always reduce considerably the quantity of work which he is capable of performing.
Thirdly, and lastly, everybody must be sensible how much labour is facilitated and abridged by the application of proper machinery. It is unnecessary to give any example. I shall only observe, therefore, that the invention of all those machines by which labour is so much facilitated and abridged, seems to have been originally owing to the division of labour. Men are much more likely to discover easier and readier methods of attaining any object, when the whole attention of their minds is directed towards that single object, than when it is dissipated among a great variety of things. But, in consequence of the division of labour, the whole of every man’s attention comes naturally to be directed towards some one very simple object. It is naturally to be expected, therefore, that some one or other of those who are employed in each particular branch of labour should soon find out easier and readier methods of performing their own particular work, whenever the nature of it admits of such improvement. A great part of the machines made use of in those manufactures in which labour is most subdivided, were originally the invention of common workmen, who, being each of them employed in some very simple operation, naturally turned their thoughts towards finding out easier and readier methods of performing it. Whoever has been much accustomed to visit such manufactures, must frequently have been shewn very pretty machines, which were the inventions of such workmen, in order to facilitate and quicken their own particular part of the work. In the first fire engines {this was the current designation for steam engines}, a boy was constantly employed to open and shut alternately the communication between the boiler and the cylinder, according as the piston either ascended or descended. One of those boys, who loved to play with his companions, observed that, by tying a string from the handle of the valve which opened this communication to another part of the machine, the valve would open and shut without his assistance, and leave him at liberty to divert himself with his play-fellows. One of the greatest improvements that has been made upon this machine, since it was first invented, was in this manner the discovery of a boy who wanted to save his own labour.
All the improvements in machinery, however, have by no means been the inventions of those who had occasion to use the machines. Many improvements have been made by the ingenuity of the makers of the machines, when to make them became the business of a peculiar trade; and some by that of those who are called philosophers, or men of speculation, whose trade it is not to do any thing, but to observe every thing, and who, upon that account, are often capable of combining together the powers of the most distant and dissimilar objects in the progress of society, philosophy or speculation becomes, like every other employment, the principal or sole trade and occupation of a particular class of citizens. Like every other employment, too, it is subdivided into a great number of different branches, each of which affords occupation to a peculiar tribe or class of philosophers; and this subdivision of employment in philosophy, as well as in every other business, improves dexterity, and saves time. Each individual becomes more expert in his own peculiar branch, more work is done upon the whole, and the quantity of science is considerably increased by it.
It is the great multiplication of the productions of all the different arts, in consequence of the division of labour, which occasions, in a well-governed society, that universal opulence which extends itself to the lowest ranks of the people. Every workman has a great quantity of his own work to dispose of beyond what he himself has occasion for; and every other workman being exactly in the same situation, he is enabled to exchange a great quantity of his own goods for a great quantity or, what comes to the same thing, for the price of a great quantity of theirs. He supplies them abundantly with what they have occasion for, and they accommodate him as amply with what he has occasion for, and a general plenty diffuses itself through all the different ranks of the society.
Observe the accommodation of the most common artificer or daylabourer in a civilized and thriving country, and you will perceive that the number of people, of whose industry a part, though but a small part, has been employed in procuring him this accommodation, exceeds all computation. The woollen coat, for example, which covers the day-labourer, as coarse and rough as it may appear, is the produce of the joint labour of a great multitude of workmen. The shepherd, the sorter of the wool, the wool-comber or carder, the dyer, the scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many others, must all join their different arts in order to complete even this homely production. How many merchants and carriers, besides, must have been employed in transporting the materials from some of those workmen to others who often live in a very distant part of the country? How much commerce and navigation in particular, how many ship-builders, sailors, sail-makers, rope-makers, must have been employed in order to bring together the different drugs made use of by the dyer, which often come from the remotest corners of the world? What a variety of labour, too, is necessary in order to produce the tools of the meanest of those workmen! To say nothing of such complicated machines as the ship of the sailor, the mill of the fuller, or even the loom of the weaver, let us consider only what a variety of labour is requisite in order to form that very simple machine, the shears with which the shepherd clips the wool. The miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore, the feller of the timber, the burner of the charcoal to be made use of in the smelting-house, the brickmaker, the bricklayer, the workmen who attend the furnace, the millwright, the forger, the smith, must all of them join their different arts in order to produce them. Were we to examine, in the same manner, all the different parts of his dress and household furniture, the coarse linen shirt which he wears next his skin, the shoes which cover his feet, the bed which he lies on, and all the different parts which compose it, the kitchen-grate at which he prepares his victuals, the coals which he makes use of for that purpose, dug from the bowels of the earth, and brought to him, perhaps, by a long sea and a long land-carriage, all the other utensils of his kitchen, all the furniture of his table, the knives and forks, the earthen or pewter plates upon which he serves up and divides his victuals, the different hands employed in preparing his bread and his beer, the glass window which lets in the heat and the light, and keeps out the wind and the rain, with all the knowledge and art requisite for preparing that beautiful and happy invention, without which these northern parts of the world could scarce have afforded a very comfortable habitation, together with the tools of all the different workmen employed in producing those different conveniencies; if we examine, I say, all these things, and consider what a variety of labour is employed about each of them, we shall be sensible that, without the assistance and co-operation of many thousands, the very meanest person in a civilized country could not be provided, even according to, what we very falsely imagine, the easy and simple manner in which he is commonly accommodated. Compared, indeed, with the more extravagant luxury of the great, his accommodation must no doubt appear extremely simple and easy; and yet it may be true, perhaps, that the accommodation of an European prince does not always so much exceed that of an industrious and frugal peasant, as the accommodation of the latter exceeds that of many an African king, the absolute masters of the lives and liberties of ten thousand naked savages.
English
Second, the advantage gained by saving the time commonly lost in passing from one kind of work to another is much greater than we might at first imagine. One cannot move very quickly from one kind of work to another carried on in a different place with entirely different tools. A country weaver who cultivates a small farm must lose considerable time going from loom to field and back again. When both trades can be carried on in the same workshop, the loss of time is doubtless much smaller. Even then, however, it is substantial. A person commonly dawdles a little when turning from one occupation to another. At first he is seldom eager or wholehearted about the new work; his mind, as people say, is not in it, and for some time he idles rather than applies himself effectively. Every country worker who has to change his work and tools every half hour, and put his hands to twenty different tasks almost every day of his life, naturally—or rather necessarily—acquires a habit of dawdling and of working carelessly and without energy. This makes him nearly always sluggish and idle, incapable of vigorous effort even under the most pressing demands. Quite apart from any deficiency in his dexterity, this cause alone must always considerably reduce the quantity of work he can perform.
Third and last, everyone knows how greatly suitable machinery makes labor easier and shorter. There is no need to give an example. I shall only observe that the invention of all those machines by which labor is so greatly eased and shortened seems originally to have arisen from the division of labor. People are far more likely to discover easier and quicker ways of attaining an object when all their attention is directed to that single object than when it is scattered among many things. But the division of labor naturally directs every worker’s entire attention toward some one very simple object. We may therefore naturally expect that someone employed in each particular branch of labor will soon find easier and quicker ways of doing that particular work, whenever its nature allows such improvement. Many of the machines used in manufactures where labor is most subdivided were originally invented by ordinary workers, each of whom, occupied with a simple operation, naturally turned his thoughts to finding easier and quicker ways of performing it. Anyone who has often visited such factories must frequently have been shown ingenious little machines invented by such workers to make their own part of the work easier and faster. In the first fire engines [this was the current designation for steam engines], a boy was constantly employed to open and close in turn the passage between boiler and cylinder as the piston rose or fell. One of these boys, wishing to play with his companions, noticed that if he tied a string from the handle of the valve that opened this passage to another part of the machine, the valve would open and close without his help, leaving him free to amuse himself with his playmates. One of the greatest improvements made to this machine since its invention was thus the discovery of a boy seeking to save himself labor.
By no means all improvements to machinery, however, have been invented by those who needed to use the machines. Many have come from the ingenuity of machine makers once making machines became a specialized trade; others from those called philosophers, or speculative thinkers, whose trade is not to do anything but to observe everything, and who can therefore often combine the powers of the most remote and unlike objects. As society progresses, philosophy or speculation, like every other occupation, becomes the principal or sole trade and pursuit of a particular class of citizens. Like every other occupation, it is also subdivided into many branches, each employing a particular group or class of philosophers. This subdivision of work in philosophy, as in every other business, improves dexterity and saves time. Each person becomes more expert in his own branch; more work is done overall, and the quantity of knowledge is considerably increased.
It is the great multiplication of the products of all the different arts through the division of labor that, in a well-governed society, gives rise to a general wealth extending to the lowest ranks of the people. Each worker has a great quantity of his own work to dispose of beyond what he himself needs. Since every other worker is in exactly the same position, he can exchange a great quantity of his goods for a great quantity of theirs—or, what amounts to the same thing, for the price of a great quantity of theirs. He supplies them abundantly with what they need, and they supply him just as amply with what he needs; thus general plenty spreads through every rank of society.
Consider the comforts available to the most ordinary artisan or day laborer in a civilized and thriving country, and you will see that the number of people whose industry has contributed some part, however small, to providing those comforts is beyond calculation. The woolen coat worn by a day laborer, for example, however coarse and rough it looks, is the product of the combined labor of a great multitude of workers. The shepherd, the wool sorter, the wool comber or carder, the dyer, the wool scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the cloth finisher, and many others must bring their different skills together to complete even this humble article. How many merchants and carriers, besides, must transport the materials between workers who often live in widely separated parts of the country? How much commerce and navigation in particular, how many shipbuilders, sailors, sailmakers, and ropemakers must be employed to bring together the different substances used by the dyer, often arriving from the remotest corners of the world? And what a variety of labor is needed to produce even the tools of the humblest of these workers! Leaving aside such elaborate machines as the sailor’s ship, the fuller’s mill, and even the weaver’s loom, consider only the range of labor needed to make the very simple machine with which the shepherd clips the wool: a pair of shears. The miner, the builder of the furnace that smelts the ore, the timber cutter, the burner of charcoal for the smelting-house, the brickmaker, the bricklayer, the workers tending the furnace, the millwright, the forger, and the smith must all contribute their different skills to produce them. If we examined in the same way every part of his clothing and household furnishings—the coarse linen shirt worn next to his skin, the shoes on his feet, the bed he lies on and everything composing it, the kitchen grate on which he cooks his food, the coal he uses for that purpose, dug from the earth and perhaps brought to him by a long sea voyage and a long overland journey, all the other utensils of his kitchen, all the furnishings of his table, the knives and forks, the earthenware or pewter plates on which he serves and divides his food, the different hands engaged in preparing his bread and beer, the glass window that lets in heat and light while keeping out wind and rain, and all the knowledge and skill needed to make that beautiful and fortunate invention without which these northern parts of the world could scarcely have provided a very comfortable home, together with the tools of all the different workers who produce these many conveniences—if we examined all these things, I say, and considered the variety of labor involved in each, we would recognize that without the help and cooperation of many thousands, even the humblest person in a civilized country could not be provided for, even in what we quite falsely imagine to be the easy and simple manner in which he is ordinarily accommodated. Compared, certainly, with the more extravagant luxury of the great, his comforts must seem extremely simple and modest; and yet it may be true that the comforts of a European prince do not always exceed those of an industrious and frugal peasant by so much as the peasant’s exceed those of many an African king, an absolute master of the lives and liberties of ten thousand naked people.
Book I, Chapter II
18th-century English
OF THE PRINCIPLE WHICH GIVES OCCASION TO THE DIVISION OF LABOUR.
This division of labour, from which so many advantages are derived, is not originally the effect of any human wisdom, which foresees and intends that general opulence to which it gives occasion. 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.
Whether this propensity be one of those original principles in human nature, of which no further account can be given, or whether, as seems more probable, it be the necessary consequence of the faculties of reason and speech, it belongs not to our present subject to inquire. It is common to all men, and to be found in no other race of animals, which seem to know neither this nor any other species of contracts. Two greyhounds, in running down the same hare, have sometimes the appearance of acting in some sort of concert. Each turns her towards his companion, or endeavours to intercept her when his companion turns her towards himself. This, however, is not the effect of any contract, but of the accidental concurrence of their passions in the same object at that particular time. Nobody ever saw a dog make a fair and deliberate exchange of one bone for another with another dog. Nobody ever saw one animal, by its gestures and natural cries signify to another, this is mine, that yours; I am willing to give this for that. When an animal wants to obtain something either of a man, or of another animal, it has no other means of persuasion, but to gain the favour of those whose service it requires. A puppy fawns upon its dam, and a spaniel endeavours, by a thousand attractions, to engage the attention of its master who is at dinner, when it wants to be fed by him. Man sometimes uses the same arts with his brethren, and when he has no other means of engaging them to act according to his inclinations, endeavours by every servile and fawning attention to obtain their good will. He has not time, however, to do this upon every occasion. In civilized society he stands at all times in need of the co-operation and assistance of great multitudes, while his whole life is scarce sufficient to gain the friendship of a few persons. In almost every other race of animals, each individual, when it is grown up to maturity, is entirely independent, and in its natural state has occasion for the assistance of no other living creature. But man has almost constant occasion for the help of his brethren, and it is in vain for him to expect it from their benevolence only. He will be more likely to prevail if he can interest their self-love in his favour, and shew them that it is for their own advantage to do for him what he requires of them. Whoever offers to another a bargain of any kind, proposes to do this. Give me that which I want, and you shall have this which you want, is the meaning of every such offer; and it is in this manner that we obtain from one another the far greater part of those good offices which we stand in need of. It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest. We address ourselves, not to their humanity, but to their self-love, and never talk to them of our own necessities, but of their advantages. Nobody but a beggar chooses to depend chiefly upon the benevolence of his fellow-citizens. Even a beggar does not depend upon it entirely. The charity of well-disposed people, indeed, supplies him with the whole fund of his subsistence. But though this principle ultimately provides him with all the necessaries of life which he has occasion for, it neither does nor can provide him with them as he has occasion for them. The greater part of his occasional wants are supplied in the same manner as those of other people, by treaty, by barter, and by purchase. With the money which one man gives him he purchases food. The old clothes which another bestows upon him he exchanges for other clothes which suit him better, or for lodging, or for food, or for money, with which he can buy either food, clothes, or lodging, as he has occasion.
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. In a tribe of hunters or shepherds, a particular person makes bows and arrows, for example, with more readiness and dexterity than any other. He frequently exchanges them for cattle or for venison, with his companions; and he finds at last that he can, in this manner, get more cattle and venison, than if he himself went to the field to catch them. From a regard to his own interest, therefore, the making of bows and arrows grows to be his chief business, and he becomes a sort of armourer. Another excels in making the frames and covers of their little huts or moveable houses. He is accustomed to be of use in this way to his neighbours, who reward him in the same manner with cattle and with venison, till at last he finds it his interest to dedicate himself entirely to this employment, and to become a sort of house-carpenter. In the same manner a third becomes a smith or a brazier; a fourth, a tanner or dresser of hides or skins, the principal part of the clothing of savages. And thus the certainty of being able to exchange all that surplus part of the produce of his own labour, which is over and above his own consumption, for such parts of the produce of other men’s labour as he may have occasion for, encourages every man to apply himself to a particular occupation, and to cultivate and bring to perfection whatever talent or genius he may possess for that particular species of business.
The difference of natural talents in different men, is, in reality, much less than we are aware of; and the very different genius which appears to distinguish men of different professions, when grown up to maturity, is not upon many occasions so much the cause, as the effect of the division of labour. The difference between the most dissimilar characters, between a philosopher and a common street porter, for example, seems to arise not so much from nature, as from habit, custom, and education. When they came in to the world, and for the first six or eight years of their existence, they were, perhaps, very much alike, and neither their parents nor play-fellows could perceive any remarkable difference. About that age, or soon after, they come to be employed in very different occupations. The difference of talents comes then to be taken notice of, and widens by degrees, till at last the vanity of the philosopher is willing to acknowledge scarce any resemblance. But without the disposition to truck, barter, and exchange, every man must have procured to himself every necessary and conveniency of life which he wanted. All must have had the same duties to perform, and the same work to do, and there could have been no such difference of employment as could alone give occasion to any great difference of talents.
As it is this disposition which forms that difference of talents, so remarkable among men of different professions, so it is this same disposition which renders that difference useful. Many tribes of animals, acknowledged to be all of the same species, derive from nature a much more remarkable distinction of genius, than what, antecedent to custom and education, appears to take place among men. By nature a philosopher is not in genius and disposition half so different from a street porter, as a mastiff is from a grey-hound, or a grey-hound from a spaniel, or this last from a shepherd’s dog. Those different tribes of animals, however, though all of the same species are of scarce any use to one another. The strength of the mastiff is not in the least supported either by the swiftness of the greyhound, or by the sagacity of the spaniel, or by the docility of the shepherd’s dog. The effects of those different geniuses and talents, for want of the power or disposition to barter and exchange, cannot be brought into a common stock, and do not in the least contribute to the better accommodation and conveniency of the species. Each animal is still obliged to support and defend itself, separately and independently, and derives no sort of advantage from that variety of talents with which nature has distinguished its fellows. Among men, on the contrary, the most dissimilar geniuses are of use to one another; the different produces of their respective talents, by the general disposition to truck, barter, and exchange, being brought, as it were, into a common stock, where every man may purchase whatever part of the produce of other men’s talents he has occasion for.
English
Of the Principle Which Gives Rise to the Division of Labor.
This division of labor, from which so many advantages arise, is not originally the effect of human wisdom foreseeing and intending the general wealth it brings about. It is the necessary, though very slow and gradual, consequence of a certain propensity in human nature that has no such broad benefit in view: the propensity to trade, barter, and exchange one thing for another.
Whether this propensity is an original principle of human nature that admits no further explanation, or, as seems more likely, a necessary consequence of our faculties of reason and speech, is not a question for our present inquiry. It is common to all human beings and found in no other species of animal, which appear to know neither this nor any other kind of contract. Two grayhounds pursuing the same hare sometimes seem to act in concert. Each turns her toward its companion, or tries to intercept her when its companion turns her back. But this is not the result of any contract: their desires simply happen to converge on the same object at that particular moment. No one has ever seen a dog fairly and deliberately exchange one bone for another with another dog. No one has ever seen one animal signify to another, by its gestures and natural cries, “This is mine, that is yours; I will give this for that.” When an animal wants something from a human being or another animal, it has no means of persuasion except to win the favor of the one whose help it needs. A puppy fawns on its mother, and a spaniel tries by a thousand enticements to engage its master’s attention at dinner when it wants to be fed. People sometimes employ the same devices with one another; when they have no other means of inducing others to act as they wish, they try by every servile and fawning attention to gain their goodwill. But no one has time to do this on every occasion. In civilized society a person needs the cooperation and help of great multitudes at all times, while an entire life is scarcely enough to win the friendship of a few. Among almost all other species, each animal, when fully grown, is entirely independent and in its natural state needs no other living creature’s assistance. A human being, however, has almost constant need of others’ help, and it is futile to expect that help from their benevolence alone. He is more likely to succeed if he can enlist their self-interest on his side and show them that doing what he asks is to their own advantage. Anyone offering another person a bargain proposes just this. “Give me what I want, and you shall have what you want”: that is the meaning of every such offer. In this way we obtain from one another by far the greater part of the services we need. We expect our dinner not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker, but from their concern for their own interest. We appeal not to their humanity but to their self-interest, and we speak to them not of our own needs but of their advantages. No one except a beggar chooses to rely chiefly on the benevolence of his fellow citizens. Even a beggar does not depend on it entirely. The charity of kindly people does, indeed, supply the whole fund of his subsistence. Yet though this principle ultimately provides all the necessities of life he needs, it neither does nor can provide them as he needs them. Most of his immediate wants are met as other people’s are: by agreement, barter, and purchase. With the money one person gives him, he buys food. Old clothes given by another he exchanges for clothes that suit him better, or for lodging, food, or money with which to buy food, clothes, or lodging as he needs.
Just as it is by agreement, barter, and purchase that we obtain from one another most of the mutual services we need, so this same disposition to trade originally gives rise to the division of labor. In a tribe of hunters or shepherds, one person, for example, makes bows and arrows more quickly and skillfully than the others. He often exchanges them with his companions for cattle or venison, and at last discovers that this way he can obtain more cattle and venison than if he went out to catch them himself. With his own interest in mind, then, he makes bow-and-arrow-making his chief business and becomes a kind of armorer. Another excels at making the frames and coverings of their little huts or movable houses. He is accustomed to helping his neighbors in this way, and they reward him with cattle and venison too, until at last he sees that it is in his interest to devote himself wholly to this work and become a kind of house carpenter. In the same way a third person becomes a smith or a brassworker, a fourth a tanner or a dresser of hides and skins, the principal clothing of people in such societies. Thus the certainty of being able to exchange the surplus produce of one’s own labor—whatever exceeds one’s own consumption—for the produce of other people’s labor that one needs encourages everyone to devote himself to a particular occupation and develop to its fullest whatever talent or aptitude he has for that kind of business.
In reality, differences in natural talents among people are much smaller than we suppose. The very different aptitudes that seem to distinguish people in different professions when they reach maturity are often less the cause than the effect of the division of labor. The difference between the most dissimilar characters, a philosopher and an ordinary street porter, for example, seems to arise less from nature than from habit, custom, and education. When they first came into the world, and for their first six or eight years, they were perhaps very much alike, and neither parents nor playmates could detect any remarkable difference. At that age, or soon afterward, they begin to be employed in very different occupations. Differences in talent then become noticeable and gradually widen until at last the philosopher’s vanity can scarcely acknowledge any resemblance. Yet without the disposition to trade, barter, and exchange, everyone would have had to obtain for himself every necessity and convenience of life he wanted. All would have had the same duties to perform and the same work to do, and there could have been no difference of employment such as alone can give rise to any great difference of talents.
Just as this disposition produces the striking differences of talent among people of different professions, it also makes those differences useful. Many breeds of animals, acknowledged to be of one species, have by nature much greater differences of disposition and ability than appear among people before custom and education shape them. A philosopher is by nature not half so different in mind and disposition from a street porter as a mastiff is from a greyhound, a greyhound from a spaniel, or a spaniel from a shepherd’s dog. Yet these different breeds of animals, though all of one species, are of hardly any use to one another. The mastiff’s strength receives not the slightest support from the greyhound’s speed, the spaniel’s keen perception, or the shepherd dog’s obedience. For want of the power or disposition to barter and exchange, the fruits of these different abilities and talents cannot be brought into a common stock and do nothing to improve the comfort and well-being of the species. Every animal must still support and defend itself separately and independently, gaining no advantage from the range of talents with which nature has distinguished its fellows. Among human beings, on the contrary, the most dissimilar abilities benefit one another. Through the general disposition to trade, barter, and exchange, the different products of their respective talents are brought, as it were, into a common stock from which everyone can purchase whatever share of the produce of others’ talents he needs.
Book I, Chapter III
18th-century English
THAT THE DIVISION OF LABOUR IS LIMITED BY THE EXTENT OF THE MARKET.
As it is the power of exchanging that gives occasion to the division of labour, so the extent of this division must always be limited by the extent of that power, or, in other words, by the extent of the market. When the market is very small, no person can have any encouragement to dedicate himself entirely to one employment, for want of the power to exchange all that surplus part of the produce of his own labour, which is over and above his own consumption, for such parts of the produce of other men’s labour as he has occasion for.
There are some sorts of industry, even of the lowest kind, which can be carried on nowhere but in a great town. A porter, for example, can find employment and subsistence in no other place. A village is by much too narrow a sphere for him; even an ordinary market-town is scarce large enough to afford him constant occupation. In the lone houses and very small villages which are scattered about in so desert a country as the highlands of Scotland, every farmer must be butcher, baker, and brewer, for his own family. In such situations we can scarce expect to find even a smith, a carpenter, or a mason, within less than twenty miles of another of the same trade. The scattered families that live at eight or ten miles distance from the nearest of them, must learn to perform themselves a great number of little pieces of work, for which, in more populous countries, they would call in the assistance of those workmen. Country workmen are almost everywhere obliged to apply themselves to all the different branches of industry that have so much affinity to one another as to be employed about the same sort of materials. A country carpenter deals in every sort of work that is made of wood; a country smith in every sort of work that is made of iron. The former is not only a carpenter, but a joiner, a cabinet-maker, and even a carver in wood, as well as a wheel-wright, a plough-wright, a cart and waggon-maker. The employments of the latter are still more various. It is impossible there should be such a trade as even that of a nailer in the remote and inland parts of the highlands of Scotland. Such a workman at the rate of a thousand nails a-day, and three hundred working days in the year, will make three hundred thousand nails in the year. But in such a situation it would be impossible to dispose of one thousand, that is, of one day’s work in the year. As by means of water-carriage, a more extensive market is opened to every sort of industry than what land-carriage alone can afford it, so it is upon the sea-coast, and along the banks of navigable rivers, that industry of every kind naturally begins to subdivide and improve itself, and it is frequently not till a long time after that those improvements extend themselves to the inland parts of the country. A broad-wheeled waggon, attended by two men, and drawn by eight horses, in about six weeks time, carries and brings back between London and Edinburgh near four ton weight of goods. In about the same time a ship navigated by six or eight men, and sailing between the ports of London and Leith, frequently carries and brings back two hundred ton weight of goods. Six or eight men, therefore, by the help of water-carriage, can carry and bring back, in the same time, the same quantity of goods between London and Edinburgh as fifty broad-wheeled waggons, attended by a hundred men, and drawn by four hundred horses. Upon two hundred tons of goods, therefore, carried by the cheapest land-carriage from London to Edinburgh, there must be charged the maintenance of a hundred men for three weeks, and both the maintenance and what is nearly equal to maintenance the wear and tear of four hundred horses, as well as of fifty great waggons. Whereas, upon the same quantity of goods carried by water, there is to be charged only the maintenance of six or eight men, and the wear and tear of a ship of two hundred tons burthen, together with the value of the superior risk, or the difference of the insurance between land and water-carriage. Were there no other communication between those two places, therefore, but by land-carriage, as no goods could be transported from the one to the other, except such whose price was very considerable in proportion to their weight, they could carry on but a small part of that commerce which at present subsists between them, and consequently could give but a small part of that encouragement which they at present mutually afford to each other’s industry. There could be little or no commerce of any kind between the distant parts of the world. What goods could bear the expense of land-carriage between London and Calcutta? Or if there were any so precious as to be able to support this expense, with what safety could they be transported through the territories of so many barbarous nations? Those two cities, however, at present carry on a very considerable commerce with each other, and by mutually affording a market, give a good deal of encouragement to each other’s industry.
Since such, therefore, are the advantages of water-carriage, it is natural that the first improvements of art and industry should be made where this conveniency opens the whole world for a market to the produce of every sort of labour, and that they should always be much later in extending themselves into the inland parts of the country. The inland parts of the country can for a long time have no other market for the greater part of their goods, but the country which lies round about them, and separates them from the sea-coast, and the great navigable rivers. The extent of the market, therefore, must for a long time be in proportion to the riches and populousness of that country, and consequently their improvement must always be posterior to the improvement of that country. In our North American colonies, the plantations have constantly followed either the sea-coast or the banks of the navigable rivers, and have scarce anywhere extended themselves to any considerable distance from both.
The nations that, according to the best authenticated history, appear to have been first civilized, were those that dwelt round the coast of the Mediterranean sea. That sea, by far the greatest inlet that is known in the world, having no tides, nor consequently any waves, except such as are caused by the wind only, was, by the smoothness of its surface, as well as by the multitude of its islands, and the proximity of its neighbouring shores, extremely favourable to the infant navigation of the world; when, from their ignorance of the compass, men were afraid to quit the view of the coast, and from the imperfection of the art of ship-building, to abandon themselves to the boisterous waves of the ocean. To pass beyond the pillars of Hercules, that is, to sail out of the straits of Gibraltar, was, in the ancient world, long considered as a most wonderful and dangerous exploit of navigation. It was late before even the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, the most skilful navigators and ship-builders of those old times, attempted it; and they were, for a long time, the only nations that did attempt it.
Of all the countries on the coast of the Mediterranean sea, Egypt seems to have been the first in which either agriculture or manufactures were cultivated and improved to any considerable degree. Upper Egypt extends itself nowhere above a few miles from the Nile; and in Lower Egypt, that great river breaks itself into many different canals, which, with the assistance of a little art, seem to have afforded a communication by water-carriage, not only between all the great towns, but between all the considerable villages, and even to many farm-houses in the country, nearly in the same manner as the Rhine and the Maese do in Holland at present. The extent and easiness of this inland navigation was probably one of the principal causes of the early improvement of Egypt.
The improvements in agriculture and manufactures seem likewise to have been of very great antiquity in the provinces of Bengal, in the East Indies, and in some of the eastern provinces of China, though the great extent of this antiquity is not authenticated by any histories of whose authority we, in this part of the world, are well assured. In Bengal, the Ganges, and several other great rivers, form a great number of navigable canals, in the same manner as the Nile does in Egypt. In the eastern provinces of China, too, several great rivers form, by their different branches, a multitude of canals, and, by communicating with one another, afford an inland navigation much more extensive than that either of the Nile or the Ganges, or, perhaps, than both of them put together. It is remarkable, that neither the ancient Egyptians, nor the Indians, nor the Chinese, encouraged foreign commerce, but seem all to have derived their great opulence from this inland navigation.
All the inland parts of Africa, and all that part of Asia which lies any considerable way north of the Euxine and Caspian seas, the ancient Scythia, the modern Tartary and Siberia, seem, in all ages of the world, to have been in the same barbarous and uncivilized state in which we find them at present. The sea of Tartary is the frozen ocean, which admits of no navigation; and though some of the greatest rivers in the world run through that country, they are at too great a distance from one another to carry commerce and communication through the greater part of it. There are in Africa none of those great inlets, such as the Baltic and Adriatic seas in Europe, the Mediterranean and Euxine seas in both Europe and Asia, and the gulfs of Arabia, Persia, India, Bengal, and Siam, in Asia, to carry maritime commerce into the interior parts of that great continent; and the great rivers of Africa are at too great a distance from one another to give occasion to any considerable inland navigation. The commerce, besides, which any nation can carry on by means of a river which does not break itself into any great number of branches or canals, and which runs into another territory before it reaches the sea, can never be very considerable, because it is always in the power of the nations who possess that other territory to obstruct the communication between the upper country and the sea. The navigation of the Danube is of very little use to the different states of Bavaria, Austria, and Hungary, in comparison of what it would be, if any of them possessed the whole of its course, till it falls into the Black sea.
English
That the Division of Labor Is Limited by the Extent of the Market.
Since the power to exchange gives rise to the division of labor, the extent of that division must always be limited by the extent of the power to exchange—or, in other words, by the extent of the market. Where the market is very small, no one has an incentive to devote himself entirely to one occupation: he cannot exchange all the surplus produce of his own labor, beyond what he himself consumes, for the portions of other people’s produce that he needs.
Some kinds of work, even of the humblest sort, can be carried on only in a large town. A porter, for example, can find employment and a livelihood nowhere else. A village offers far too narrow a field for him; even an ordinary market town is scarcely large enough to provide him steady work. Among the isolated houses and very small villages scattered through a country as sparsely settled as the highlands of Scotland, every farmer must serve as butcher, baker, and brewer for his own family. In such places we can hardly expect to find even a smith, carpenter, or mason living within less than twenty miles of another in the same trade. Families scattered eight or ten miles from the nearest such worker must learn to perform for themselves many small jobs for which, in more populous countries, they would call on these craftsmen. Rural craftsmen are almost everywhere obliged to work in all the different branches of industry sufficiently related to use the same kinds of materials. A country carpenter undertakes every sort of work made of wood; a country smith, every sort of work made of iron. The former is not only a carpenter but a joiner, cabinetmaker, and even woodcarver, as well as a wheelwright, plowwright, and maker of carts and wagons. The latter’s occupations are more varied still. In the remote inland parts of the highlands of Scotland, it is impossible for even a nail-maker’s trade to exist. Such a worker, at the rate of a thousand nails a day and three hundred working days in the year, would make three hundred thousand nails in the year. But there he could not sell even one thousand—that is, a single day’s work—in the course of a year. Because water transport opens to every kind of industry a wider market than transport by land alone can offer, it is along the seacoast and the banks of navigable rivers that industry of every kind naturally first begins to subdivide and improve; often much time passes before these improvements reach the interior of the country. A broad-wheeled wagon accompanied by two men and drawn by eight horses carries goods between London and Edinburgh and returns in about six weeks, carrying nearly four ton weight of goods. In about the same time a ship sailed by six or eight men between the ports of London and Leith frequently carries and brings back two hundred ton weight of goods. Thus six or eight men using water transport can carry the same quantity of goods between London and Edinburgh and bring the same quantity back in the same time as fifty broad-wheeled wagons accompanied by a hundred men and drawn by four hundred horses. On two hundred tons of goods carried from London to Edinburgh by the cheapest land transport, then, one must charge the maintenance of a hundred men for three weeks, as well as the maintenance and the nearly equal cost of wear and tear of four hundred horses and fifty large wagons. On the same quantity carried by water, one must charge only the maintenance of six or eight men and the wear and tear of a ship with a carrying capacity of two hundred tons, together with the cost of the greater risk, or the difference in insurance between land and water transport. If land transport were the only connection between the two places, no goods could be transported between them except those of very considerable value in proportion to their weight. They could then carry on only a small part of their present commerce, and consequently offer each other’s industry only a small part of its present encouragement. There could be little or no commerce of any kind between the distant parts of the world. What goods could bear the expense of land transport between London and Calcutta? And if any were precious enough to bear it, how safely could they be transported through the territories of so many barbarous nations? Yet these two cities at present conduct very considerable commerce with one another and, by offering each other a market, provide considerable encouragement to each other’s industry.
Given these advantages of water transport, it is natural for the earliest improvements in arts and industry to occur where that convenience opens the whole world as a market for the produce of every kind of labor, and for them to reach inland regions only much later. For a long time, the inland parts of a country can have no market for most of their goods except the territory around them that separates them from the seacoast and the great navigable rivers. The size of their market must therefore long depend on the wealth and population of that surrounding territory, and their own improvement must accordingly always come after its improvement. In our North American colonies, plantations have consistently followed either the seacoast or the banks of navigable rivers, and have hardly anywhere extended any considerable distance from both.
The nations that, according to the most trustworthy history, appear to have first become civilized lived around the coast of the Mediterranean sea. That sea, by far the greatest inlet known in the world, has no tides and therefore no waves except those caused by wind. Its smooth surface, its many islands, and its nearby shores made it exceptionally favorable to navigation in the world’s infancy, when ignorance of the compass made people afraid to lose sight of land, and imperfect shipbuilding made them afraid to venture onto the rough waves of the ocean. To pass beyond the pillars of Hercules—that is, to sail out of the straits of Gibraltar—was long considered in the ancient world an astonishing and dangerous feat of navigation. Even the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, the most skilled navigators and shipbuilders of those ancient times, were late in attempting it; for a long time they were the only nations to do so.
Of all the countries on the Mediterranean coast, Egypt appears to have been the first in which either agriculture or manufactures were developed and improved to any considerable degree. Upper Egypt nowhere extends more than a few miles from the Nile. In Lower Egypt that great river divides into many canals, which with a little human ingenuity seem to have allowed transport by water not only between all the large towns but between all the substantial villages and even many farmhouses in the countryside, much as the Rhine and the Maese do in Holland today. The extent and ease of this inland navigation was probably one of the chief causes of Egypt’s early improvement.
Improvements in agriculture and manufactures also seem very ancient in the provinces of Bengal, in the East Indies, and in some eastern provinces of China, though the full extent of that antiquity is not established by any histories whose authority we in this part of the world can confidently accept. In Bengal, the Ganges and several other great rivers form numerous navigable canals, much as the Nile does in Egypt. In the eastern provinces of China, too, several great rivers form a multitude of canals through their various branches and, by communicating with one another, provide a system of inland navigation far more extensive than that of the Nile or the Ganges, or perhaps both together. It is remarkable that neither the ancient Egyptians nor the Indians nor the Chinese encouraged foreign commerce; all seem instead to have derived their great wealth from inland navigation.
All the inland regions of Africa, and the part of Asia lying any considerable distance north of the Euxine and Caspian seas—ancient Scythia, modern Tartary and Siberia—seem in every age to have remained in the same barbarous and uncivilized state in which we find them now. The sea of Tartary is the frozen ocean, which permits no navigation. Although some of the world’s greatest rivers run through that country, they are too far apart to carry trade and communication through most of it. Africa has none of the great inlets that can carry maritime commerce into the interior of that great continent: none such as the Baltic and Adriatic seas in Europe, the Mediterranean and Euxine seas in both Europe and Asia, or the gulfs of Arabia, Persia, India, Bengal, and Siam in Asia. Africa’s great rivers, moreover, are too far apart to make any considerable inland navigation possible. Further, a nation can never conduct very considerable commerce by a river that neither divides into many branches or canals nor reaches the sea before passing through another territory. The nations possessing that other territory always have the power to obstruct communication between the upper country and the sea. Navigation on the Danube is of very little use to the different states of Bavaria, Austria, and Hungary compared with what it would be if any one of them possessed its entire course until it falls into the Black sea.
Book I, Chapter IV
18th-century English
OF THE ORIGIN AND USE OF MONEY.
When the division of labour has been once thoroughly established, it is but a very small part of a man’s wants which the produce of his own labour can supply. He supplies the far greater part of them by exchanging that surplus part of the produce of his own labour, which is over and above his own consumption, for such parts of the produce of other men’s labour as he has occasion for. Every man thus lives by exchanging, or becomes, in some measure, a merchant, and the society itself grows to be what is properly a commercial society.
But when the division of labour first began to take place, this power of exchanging must frequently have been very much clogged and embarrassed in its operations. One man, we shall suppose, has more of a certain commodity than he himself has occasion for, while another has less. The former, consequently, would be glad to dispose of; and the latter to purchase, a part of this superfluity. But if this latter should chance to have nothing that the former stands in need of, no exchange can be made between them. The butcher has more meat in his shop than he himself can consume, and the brewer and the baker would each of them be willing to purchase a part of it. But they have nothing to offer in exchange, except the different productions of their respective trades, and the butcher is already provided with all the bread and beer which he has immediate occasion for. No exchange can, in this case, be made between them. He cannot be their merchant, nor they his customers; and they are all of them thus mutually less serviceable to one another. In order to avoid the inconveniency of such situations, every prudent man in every period of society, after the first establishment of the division of labour, must naturally have endeavoured to manage his affairs in such a manner, as to have at all times by him, besides the peculiar produce of his own industry, a certain quantity of some one commodity or other, such as he imagined few people would be likely to refuse in exchange for the produce of their industry. Many different commodities, it is probable, were successively both thought of and employed for this purpose. In the rude ages of society, cattle are said to have been the common instrument of commerce; and, though they must have been a most inconvenient one, yet, in old times, we find things were frequently valued according to the number of cattle which had been given in exchange for them. The armour of Diomede, says Homer, cost only nine oxen; but that of Glaucus cost a hundred oxen. Salt is said to be the common instrument of commerce and exchanges in Abyssinia; a species of shells in some parts of the coast of India; dried cod at Newfoundland; tobacco in Virginia; sugar in some of our West India colonies; hides or dressed leather in some other countries; and there is at this day a village in Scotland, where it is not uncommon, I am told, for a workman to carry nails instead of money to the baker’s shop or the ale-house.
In all countries, however, men seem at last to have been determined by irresistible reasons to give the preference, for this employment, to metals above every other commodity. Metals can not only be kept with as little loss as any other commodity, scarce any thing being less perishable than they are, but they can likewise, without any loss, be divided into any number of parts, as by fusion those parts can easily be re-united again; a quality which no other equally durable commodities possess, and which, more than any other quality, renders them fit to be the instruments of commerce and circulation. The man who wanted to buy salt, for example, and had nothing but cattle to give in exchange for it, must have been obliged to buy salt to the value of a whole ox, or a whole sheep, at a time. He could seldom buy less than this, because what he was to give for it could seldom be divided without loss; and if he had a mind to buy more, he must, for the same reasons, have been obliged to buy double or triple the quantity, the value, to wit, of two or three oxen, or of two or three sheep. If, on the contrary, instead of sheep or oxen, he had metals to give in exchange for it, he could easily proportion the quantity of the metal to the precise quantity of the commodity which he had immediate occasion for.
Different metals have been made use of by different nations for this purpose. Iron was the common instrument of commerce among the ancient Spartans, copper among the ancient Romans, and gold and silver among all rich and commercial nations.
Those metals seem originally to have been made use of for this purpose in rude bars, without any stamp or coinage. Thus we are told by Pliny (Plin. Hist Nat. lib. 33, cap. 3), upon the authority of Timaeus, an ancient historian, that, till the time of Servius Tullius, the Romans had no coined money, but made use of unstamped bars of copper, to purchase whatever they had occasion for. These rude bars, therefore, performed at this time the function of money.
The use of metals in this rude state was attended with two very considerable inconveniences; first, with the trouble of weighing, and secondly, with that of assaying them. In the precious metals, where a small difference in the quantity makes a great difference in the value, even the business of weighing, with proper exactness, requires at least very accurate weights and scales. The weighing of gold, in particular, is an operation of some nicety in the coarser metals, indeed, where a small error would be of little consequence, less accuracy would, no doubt, be necessary. Yet we should find it excessively troublesome if every time a poor man had occasion either to buy or sell a farthing’s worth of goods, he was obliged to weigh the farthing. The operation of assaying is still more difficult, still more tedious; and, unless a part of the metal is fairly melted in the crucible, with proper dissolvents, any conclusion that can be drawn from it is extremely uncertain. Before the institution of coined money, however, unless they went through this tedious and difficult operation, people must always have been liable to the grossest frauds and impositions; and instead of a pound weight of pure silver, or pure copper, might receive, in exchange for their goods, an adulterated composition of the coarsest and cheapest materials, which had, however, in their outward appearance, been made to resemble those metals. To prevent such abuses, to facilitate exchanges, and thereby to encourage all sorts of industry and commerce, it has been found necessary, in all countries that have made any considerable advances towards improvement, to affix a public stamp upon certain quantities of such particular metals, as were in those countries commonly made use of to purchase goods. Hence the origin of coined money, and of those public offices called mints; institutions exactly of the same nature with those of the aulnagers and stamp-masters of woollen and linen cloth. All of them are equally meant to ascertain, by means of a public stamp, the quantity and uniform goodness of those different commodities when brought to market.
The first public stamps of this kind that were affixed to the current metals, seem in many cases to have been intended to ascertain, what it was both most difficult and most important to ascertain, the goodness or fineness of the metal, and to have resembled the sterling mark which is at present affixed to plate and bars of silver, or the Spanish mark which is sometimes affixed to ingots of gold, and which, being struck only upon one side of the piece, and not covering the whole surface, ascertains the fineness, but not the weight of the metal. Abraham weighs to Ephron the four hundred shekels of silver which he had agreed to pay for the field of Machpelah. They are said, however, to be the current money of the merchant, and yet are received by weight, and not by tale, in the same manner as ingots of gold and bars of silver are at present. The revenues of the ancient Saxon kings of England are said to have been paid, not in money, but in kind, that is, in victuals and provisions of all sorts. William the Conqueror introduced the custom of paying them in money. This money, however, was for a long time, received at the exchequer, by weight, and not by tale.
The inconveniency and difficulty of weighing those metals with exactness, gave occasion to the institution of coins, of which the stamp, covering entirely both sides of the piece, and sometimes the edges too, was supposed to ascertain not only the fineness, but the weight of the metal. Such coins, therefore, were received by tale, as at present, without the trouble of weighing.
The denominations of those coins seem originally to have expressed the weight or quantity of metal contained in them. In the time of Servius Tullius, who first coined money at Rome, the Roman as or pondo contained a Roman pound of good copper. It was divided, in the same manner as our Troyes pound, into twelve ounces, each of which contained a real ounce of good copper. The English pound sterling, in the time of Edward I. contained a pound, Tower weight, of silver of a known fineness. The Tower pound seems to have been something more than the Roman pound, and something less than the Troyes pound. This last was not introduced into the mint of England till the 18th of Henry the VIII. The French livre contained, in the time of Charlemagne, a pound, Troyes weight, of silver of a known fineness. The fair of Troyes in Champaign was at that time frequented by all the nations of Europe, and the weights and measures of so famous a market were generally known and esteemed. The Scots money pound contained, from the time of Alexander the First to that of Robert Bruce, a pound of silver of the same weight and fineness with the English pound sterling. English, French, and Scots pennies, too, contained all of them originally a real penny-weight of silver, the twentieth part of an ounce, and the two hundred-and-fortieth part of a pound. The shilling, too, seems originally to have been the denomination of a weight. “When wheat is at twelve shillings the quarter,” says an ancient statute of Henry III. “then wastel bread of a farthing shall weigh eleven shillings and fourpence”. The proportion, however, between the shilling, and either the penny on the one hand, or the pound on the other, seems not to have been so constant and uniform as that between the penny and the pound. During the first race of the kings of France, the French sou or shilling appears upon different occasions to have contained five, twelve, twenty, and forty pennies. Among the ancient Saxons, a shilling appears at one time to have contained only five pennies, and it is not improbable that it may have been as variable among them as among their neighbours, the ancient Franks. From the time of Charlemagne among the French, and from that of William the Conqueror among the English, the proportion between the pound, the shilling, and the penny, seems to have been uniformly the same as at present, though the value of each has been very different; for in every country of the world, I believe, the avarice and injustice of princes and sovereign states, abusing the confidence of their subjects, have by degrees diminished the real quantity of metal, which had been originally contained in their coins. The Roman as, in the latter ages of the republic, was reduced to the twenty-fourth part of its original value, and, instead of weighing a pound, came to weigh only half an ounce. The English pound and penny contain at present about a third only; the Scots pound and penny about a thirty-sixth; and the French pound and penny about a sixty-sixth part of their original value. By means of those operations, the princes and sovereign states which performed them were enabled, in appearance, to pay their debts and fulfil their engagements with a smaller quantity of silver than would otherwise have been requisite. It was indeed in appearance only; for their creditors were really defrauded of a part of what was due to them. All other debtors in the state were allowed the same privilege, and might pay with the same nominal sum of the new and debased coin whatever they had borrowed in the old. Such operations, therefore, have always proved favourable to the debtor, and ruinous to the creditor, and have sometimes produced a greater and more universal revolution in the fortunes of private persons, than could have been occasioned by a very great public calamity.
It is in this manner that money has become, in all civilized nations, the universal instrument of commerce, by the intervention of which goods of all kinds are bought and sold, or exchanged for one another.
What are the rules which men naturally observe, in exchanging them either for money, or for one another, I shall now proceed to examine. These rules determine what may be called the relative or exchangeable value of goods.
The word VALUE, it is to be observed, has two different meanings, and sometimes expresses the utility of some particular object, and sometimes the power of purchasing other goods which the possession of that object conveys. The one may be called ‘value in use;’ the other, ‘value in exchange.’ The things which have the greatest value in use have frequently little or no value in exchange; and, on the contrary, those which have the greatest value in exchange have frequently little or no value in use. Nothing is more useful than water; but it will purchase scarce any thing; scarce any thing can be had in exchange for it. A diamond, on the contrary, has scarce any value in use; but a very great quantity of other goods may frequently be had in exchange for it.
In order to investigate the principles which regulate the exchangeable value of commodities, I shall endeavour to shew,
First, what is the real measure of this exchangeable value; or wherein consists the real price of all commodities.
Secondly, what are the different parts of which this real price is composed or made up.
And, lastly, what are the different circumstances which sometimes raise some or all of these different parts of price above, and sometimes sink them below, their natural or ordinary rate; or, what are the causes which sometimes hinder the market price, that is, the actual price of commodities, from coinciding exactly with what may be called their natural price.
I shall endeavour to explain, as fully and distinctly as I can, those three subjects in the three following chapters, for which I must very earnestly entreat both the patience and attention of the reader: his patience, in order to examine a detail which may, perhaps, in some places, appear unnecessarily tedious; and his attention, in order to understand what may perhaps, after the fullest explication which I am capable of giving it, appear still in some degree obscure. I am always willing to run some hazard of being tedious, in order to be sure that I am perspicuous; and, after taking the utmost pains that I can to be perspicuous, some obscurity may still appear to remain upon a subject, in its own nature extremely abstracted.
English
On the Origin and Use of Money.
Once the division of labor has been fully established, the product of a person’s own labor can supply only a very small part of what that person needs. Most needs are met by exchanging the part of one’s production that exceeds one’s own consumption for the products of other people’s labor. Everyone thus lives by exchange and becomes, in some degree, a merchant; society itself becomes what can properly be called a commercial society.
But when the division of labor first took hold, this power of exchange must often have been severely hampered. Suppose one person has more of a certain commodity than he needs, while another has less. The first would gladly sell part of his surplus, and the second would gladly buy it. But if the buyer happens to have nothing the seller needs, they cannot make an exchange. The butcher has more meat in his shop than he can consume, and the brewer and baker would each gladly buy some. Yet all they can offer are the products of their own trades, and the butcher already has all the bread and beer he needs at present. They cannot exchange with one another. He cannot serve as their merchant, nor they as his customers; each is consequently less useful to the others. To avoid this inconvenience, every prudent person, in every period of society after the division of labor was first established, must naturally have tried to keep on hand, besides the particular product of his own industry, a quantity of some commodity he thought few people would refuse in exchange for their products. Many commodities were probably considered and used in succession for this purpose. In the early ages of society, cattle are said to have been the common medium of commerce. Inconvenient as they must have been, we find that in ancient times things were often valued by the number of cattle exchanged for them. The armor of Diomede, Homer says, cost only nine oxen, but that of Glaucus cost a hundred oxen. Salt is said to be the common medium of commerce and exchange in Abyssinia; a kind of shell in parts of the coast of India; dried cod at Newfoundland; tobacco in Virginia; sugar in some of our West India colonies; hides or dressed leather in certain other countries. And I am told that, even today, in a village in Scotland, a workman will commonly take nails instead of money to the baker’s shop or the alehouse.
In every country, however, compelling reasons seem eventually to have led people to prefer metals to all other commodities for this purpose. Metals can be stored with as little loss as any commodity, since hardly anything is less perishable; and they can also be divided into any number of parts without loss, since melting can readily reunite the parts. No other commodity of equal durability has this quality, which, more than any other, makes metals fit to serve as instruments of commerce and circulation. A person wishing to buy salt, for example, who had nothing but cattle to exchange, would have to buy salt worth a whole ox or a whole sheep at once. He could seldom buy less, since what he had to give could seldom be divided without loss. If he wanted more, for the same reason he would have to buy double or triple the quantity: salt worth two or three oxen, or two or three sheep. If, instead, he had metal to exchange rather than sheep or oxen, he could easily match the amount of metal to the precise quantity of salt he needed at the time.
Different nations have employed different metals for this purpose. Iron was the common medium of commerce among the ancient Spartans, copper among the ancient Romans, and gold and silver among all wealthy commercial nations.
These metals appear originally to have been used as crude bars, without a stamp or coinage. Thus Pliny tells us (Plin. Hist Nat. lib. 33, cap. 3), on the authority of the ancient historian Timaeus, that until the time of Servius Tullius the Romans had no coined money: they used unstamped bars of copper to buy whatever they needed. At that time, then, these crude bars served as money.
Using metals in this raw form brought two serious inconveniences: first the trouble of weighing them, and second the trouble of assaying them. With precious metals, where a small difference in quantity produces a great difference in value, even weighing them accurately requires very precise weights and scales. Weighing gold in particular is a delicate operation. With coarser metals, to be sure, a small error matters little, and less precision would be required. Yet we would find it exceedingly troublesome if a poor person, each time he bought or sold a farthing’s worth of goods, had to weigh out the farthing. Assaying is still more difficult and time-consuming; unless some of the metal is properly melted in a crucible with suitable solvents, any conclusion is highly uncertain. Before coinage was established, however, people who did not perform this laborious and difficult test were always exposed to the crudest fraud. In exchange for their goods, instead of a pound weight of pure silver or copper, they might receive an adulterated mixture of the coarsest, cheapest materials made to look like those metals. To prevent these abuses, facilitate exchange, and thereby encourage every kind of industry and commerce, every country that has made considerable progress has found it necessary to place an official stamp on specified quantities of the metals commonly used there to purchase goods. This is the origin of coined money and of the public offices called mints, institutions of exactly the same kind as the offices of the aulnagers and stamp-masters of woolen and linen cloth. Each aims to certify, by a public stamp, the quantity and uniform quality of commodities brought to market.
In many cases the first public stamps placed on metals in circulation seem to have been intended to certify what was both hardest and most important to establish: the quality or fineness of the metal. They may have resembled the sterling mark now placed on silver plate and bars, or the Spanish mark sometimes placed on gold ingots. A mark struck on only one side, without covering the whole surface, certifies fineness but not weight. Abraham weighs out to Ephron the four hundred shekels of silver he agreed to pay for the field of Machpelah. They are called the merchant’s current money, yet are received by weight, not by counting, just as gold ingots and silver bars are today. The revenues of the ancient Saxon kings of England are said to have been paid not in money but in kind, that is, in food and provisions of all sorts. William the Conqueror introduced the practice of paying them in money. For a long time, however, this money was received at the exchequer by weight, not by counting.
The inconvenience and difficulty of weighing these metals accurately led to the introduction of coins. Their stamp covered both faces of a piece entirely, and sometimes its edges as well, and was supposed to certify not only the metal’s fineness but also its weight. These coins were therefore accepted by counting, as they are now, without the trouble of weighing them.
The names of these coins appear originally to have expressed the weight or quantity of metal they contained. In the time of Servius Tullius, who first coined money at Rome, the Roman as or pondo contained a Roman pound of good copper. Like our Troyes pound, it was divided into twelve ounces, each containing an actual ounce of good copper. In the time of Edward I. the English pound sterling contained a pound, Tower weight, of silver of a known fineness. The Tower pound appears to have been somewhat heavier than the Roman pound and somewhat lighter than the Troyes pound. The Troyes pound was not introduced into the English mint until the 18th of Henry the VIII. In the time of Charlemagne, the French livre contained a pound, Troyes weight, of silver of a known fineness. The fair of Troyes in Champaign then attracted all the nations of Europe, and the weights and measures of so celebrated a market were widely known and respected. From the time of Alexander the First to that of Robert Bruce, the Scots money pound contained a pound of silver equal in weight and fineness to the English pound sterling. English, French, and Scots pennies, too, all originally contained an actual pennyweight of silver, the twentieth part of an ounce and the two hundred-and-fortieth part of a pound. The shilling also appears originally to have named a weight. “When wheat is at twelve shillings the quarter,” says an ancient statute of Henry III., “then wastel bread of a farthing shall weigh eleven shillings and fourpence.” The ratio of the shilling to either the penny or the pound, however, seems not to have been as constant and uniform as that of the penny to the pound. During the first dynasty of French kings, the French sou, or shilling, appears at different times to have contained five, twelve, twenty, and forty pennies. Among the ancient Saxons, a shilling appears at one time to have contained only five pennies; it may well have varied as much among them as among their neighbors, the ancient Franks. From the time of Charlemagne among the French, and of William the Conqueror among the English, the ratio between pound, shilling, and penny appears to have remained uniformly what it is today, though the value of each has changed greatly. In every country of the world, I believe, princes and sovereign states, through greed and injustice, have abused their subjects’ trust and gradually reduced the actual quantity of metal originally contained in their coins. In the later Roman republic, the as fell to the twenty-fourth part of its original value: instead of weighing a pound, it weighed only half an ounce. The English pound and penny now contain only about a third of their original value; the Scots pound and penny about a thirty-sixth; and the French pound and penny about a sixty-sixth part. By these measures, princes and sovereign states appeared able to pay their debts and fulfill their obligations with less silver than would otherwise have been needed. But this was only an appearance: their creditors were in fact defrauded of part of what they were owed. Every other debtor in the state received the same privilege, being allowed to repay with the same nominal sum in the new debased coin whatever he had borrowed in the old. Such measures have therefore always favored debtors and ruined creditors, and have sometimes brought about a greater and more widespread upheaval in private fortunes than even a great public calamity could have caused.
It is in this way that money has become, in every civilized nation, the universal medium of commerce, through which goods of all kinds are bought and sold or exchanged with one another.
I shall now examine the rules people naturally follow when exchanging goods for money or for one another. These rules determine what may be called the relative or exchangeable value of goods.
The word value, it should be observed, has two meanings. Sometimes it expresses the usefulness of a particular object; at other times, the power to purchase other goods that possession of that object confers. The first may be called “value in use,” the second “value in exchange.” Things with the greatest value in use often have little or no value in exchange; conversely, things with the greatest value in exchange often have little or no value in use. Nothing is more useful than water, yet it will buy hardly anything; hardly anything can be obtained in exchange for it. A diamond, by contrast, has hardly any value in use, but can often be exchanged for a very great quantity of other goods.
To investigate the principles governing the exchangeable value of commodities, I shall try to show:
First, what the real measure of this exchangeable value is, or what constitutes the real price of all commodities.
Second, the different parts of which this real price is composed.
And last, the different circumstances that sometimes raise some or all of these parts above, and sometimes lower them below, their natural or ordinary rate; in other words, the causes that sometimes prevent the market price, the actual price of commodities, from coinciding exactly with what may be called their natural price.
I shall try to explain these three subjects as fully and clearly as I can in the next three chapters. For this I must earnestly ask both the reader’s patience, to follow an account that may sometimes seem needlessly tedious, and the reader’s attention, to understand what may still seem somewhat obscure even after the fullest explanation I can give. I am always willing to risk being tedious to make sure I am clear; and even after I have taken the greatest pains to be clear, some obscurity may remain in a subject that is by its nature extremely abstract.
Book I, Chapter V, 1
18th-century English
OF THE REAL AND NOMINAL PRICE OF COMMODITIES, OR OF THEIR PRICE IN LABOUR, AND THEIR PRICE IN MONEY.
Every man is rich or poor according to the degree in which he can afford to enjoy the necessaries, conveniencies, and amusements of human life. But after the division of labour has once thoroughly taken place, it is but a very small part of these with which a man’s own labour can supply him. The far greater part of them he must derive from the labour of other people, and he must be rich or poor according to the quantity of that labour which he can command, or which he can afford to purchase. The value of any commodity, therefore, to the person who possesses it, and who means not to use or consume it himself, but to exchange it for other commodities, is equal to the quantity of labour which it enables him to purchase or command. Labour therefore, is the real measure of the exchangeable value of all commodities.
The real price of every thing, what every thing really costs to the man who wants to acquire it, is the toil and trouble of acquiring it. What every thing is really worth to the man who has acquired it and who wants to dispose of it, or exchange it for something else, is the toil and trouble which it can save to himself, and which it can impose upon other people. What is bought with money, or with goods, is purchased by labour, as much as what we acquire by the toil of our own body. That money, or those goods, indeed, save us this toil. They contain the value of a certain quantity of labour, which we exchange for what is supposed at the time to contain the value of an equal quantity. Labour was the first price, the original purchase money that was paid for all things. It was not by gold or by silver, but by labour, that all the wealth of the world was originally purchased; and its value, to those who possess it, and who want to exchange it for some new productions, is precisely equal to the quantity of labour which it can enable them to purchase or command.
Wealth, as Mr Hobbes says, is power. But the person who either acquires, or succeeds to a great fortune, does not necessarily acquire or succeed to any political power, either civil or military. His fortune may, perhaps, afford him the means of acquiring both; but the mere possession of that fortune does not necessarily convey to him either. The power which that possession immediately and directly conveys to him, is the power of purchasing a certain command over all the labour, or over all the produce of labour which is then in the market. His fortune is greater or less, precisely in proportion to the extent of this power, or to the quantity either of other men’s labour, or, what is the same thing, of the produce of other men’s labour, which it enables him to purchase or command. The exchangeable value of every thing must always be precisely equal to the extent of this power which it conveys to its owner.
But though labour be the real measure of the exchangeable value of all commodities, it is not that by which their value is commonly estimated. It is often difficult to ascertain the proportion between two different quantities of labour. The time spent in two different sorts of work will not always alone determine this proportion. The different degrees of hardship endured, and of ingenuity exercised, must likewise be taken into account. There may be more labour in an hour’s hard work, than in two hours easy business; or in an hour’s application to a trade which it cost ten years labour to learn, than in a month’s industry, at an ordinary and obvious employment. But it is not easy to find any accurate measure either of hardship or ingenuity. In exchanging, indeed, the different productions of different sorts of labour for one another, some allowance is commonly made for both. It is adjusted, however, not by any accurate measure, but by the higgling and bargaining of the market, according to that sort of rough equality which, though not exact, is sufficient for carrying on the business of common life.
Every commodity, besides, is more frequently exchanged for, and thereby compared with, other commodities, than with labour. It is more natural, therefore, to estimate its exchangeable value by the quantity of some other commodity, than by that of the labour which it can produce. The greater part of people, too, understand better what is meant by a quantity of a particular commodity, than by a quantity of labour. The one is a plain palpable object; the other an abstract notion, which though it can be made sufficiently intelligible, is not altogether so natural and obvious.
But when barter ceases, and money has become the common instrument of commerce, every particular commodity is more frequently exchanged for money than for any other commodity. The butcher seldom carries his beef or his mutton to the baker or the brewer, in order to exchange them for bread or for beer; but he carries them to the market, where he exchanges them for money, and afterwards exchanges that money for bread and for beer. The quantity of money which he gets for them regulates, too, the quantity of bread and beer which he can afterwards purchase. It is more natural and obvious to him, therefore, to estimate their value by the quantity of money, the commodity for which he immediately exchanges them, than by that of bread and beer, the commodities for which he can exchange them only by the intervention of another commodity; and rather to say that his butcher’s meat is worth three-pence or fourpence a-pound, than that it is worth three or four pounds of bread, or three or four quarts of small beer. Hence it comes to pass, that the exchangeable value of every commodity is more frequently estimated by the quantity of money, than by the quantity either of labour or of any other commodity which can be had in exchange for it.
Gold and silver, however, like every other commodity, vary in their value; are sometimes cheaper and sometimes dearer, sometimes of easier and sometimes of more difficult purchase. The quantity of labour which any particular quantity of them can purchase or command, or the quantity of other goods which it will exchange for, depends always upon the fertility or barrenness of the mines which happen to be known about the time when such exchanges are made. The discovery of the abundant mines of America, reduced, in the sixteenth century, the value of gold and silver in Europe to about a third of what it had been before. As it cost less labour to bring those metals from the mine to the market, so, when they were brought thither, they could purchase or command less labour; and this revolution in their value, though perhaps the greatest, is by no means the only one of which history gives some account. But as a measure of quantity, such as the natural foot, fathom, or handful, which is continually varying in its own quantity, can never be an accurate measure of the quantity of other things; so a commodity which is itself continually varying in its own value, can never be an accurate measure of the value of other commodities. Equal quantities of labour, at all times and places, may be said to be of equal value to the labourer. In his ordinary state of health, strength, and spirits; in the ordinary degree of his skill and dexterity, he must always lay down the same portion of his ease, his liberty, and his happiness. The price which he pays must always be the same, whatever may be the quantity of goods which he receives in return for it. Of these, indeed, it may sometimes purchase a greater and sometimes a smaller quantity; but it is their value which varies, not that of the labour which purchases them. At all times and places, that is dear which it is difficult to come at, or which it costs much labour to acquire; and that cheap which is to be had easily, or with very little labour. Labour alone, therefore, never varying in its own value, is alone the ultimate and real standard by which the value of all commodities can at all times and places be estimated and compared. It is their real price; money is their nominal price only.
But though equal quantities of labour are always of equal value to the labourer, yet to the person who employs him they appear sometimes to be of greater, and sometimes of smaller value. He purchases them sometimes with a greater, and sometimes with a smaller quantity of goods, and to him the price of labour seems to vary like that of all other things. It appears to him dear in the one case, and cheap in the other. In reality, however, it is the goods which are cheap in the one case, and dear in the other.
In this popular sense, therefore, labour, like commodities, may be said to have a real and a nominal price. Its real price may be said to consist in the quantity of the necessaries and conveniencies of life which are given for it; its nominal price, in the quantity of money. The labourer is rich or poor, is well or ill rewarded, in proportion to the real, not to the nominal price of his labour.
The distinction between the real and the nominal price of commodities and labour is not a matter of mere speculation, but may sometimes be of considerable use in practice. The same real price is always of the same value; but on account of the variations in the value of gold and silver, the same nominal price is sometimes of very different values. When a landed estate, therefore, is sold with a reservation of a perpetual rent, if it is intended that this rent should always be of the same value, it is of importance to the family in whose favour it is reserved, that it should not consist in a particular sum of money. Its value would in this case be liable to variations of two different kinds: first, to those which arise from the different quantities of gold and silver which are contained at different times in coin of the same denomination; and, secondly, to those which arise from the different values of equal quantities of gold and silver at different times.
Princes and sovereign states have frequently fancied that they had a temporary interest to diminish the quantity of pure metal contained in their coins; but they seldom have fancied that they had any to augment it. The quantity of metal contained in the coins, I believe of all nations, has accordingly been almost continually diminishing, and hardly ever augmenting. Such variations, therefore, tend almost always to diminish the value of a money rent.
The discovery of the mines of America diminished the value of gold and silver in Europe. This diminution, it is commonly supposed, though I apprehend without any certain proof, is still going on gradually, and is likely to continue to do so for a long time. Upon this supposition, therefore, such variations are more likely to diminish than to augment the value of a money rent, even though it should be stipulated to be paid, not in such a quantity of coined money of such a denomination (in so many pounds sterling, for example), but in so many ounces, either of pure silver, or of silver of a certain standard.
The rents which have been reserved in corn, have preserved their value much better than those which have been reserved in money, even where the denomination of the coin has not been altered. By the 18th of Elizabeth, it was enacted, that a third of the rent of all college leases should be reserved in corn, to be paid either in kind, or according to the current prices at the nearest public market. The money arising from this corn rent, though originally but a third of the whole, is, in the present times, according to Dr Blackstone, commonly near double of what arises from the other two-thirds. The old money rents of colleges must, according to this account, have sunk almost to a fourth part of their ancient value, or are worth little more than a fourth part of the corn which they were formerly worth. But since the reign of Philip and Mary, the denomination of the English coin has undergone little or no alteration, and the same number of pounds, shillings, and pence, have contained very nearly the same quantity of pure silver. This degradation, therefore, in the value of the money rents of colleges, has arisen altogether from the degradation in the price of silver.
When the degradation in the value of silver is combined with the diminution of the quantity of it contained in the coin of the same denomination, the loss is frequently still greater. In Scotland, where the denomination of the coin has undergone much greater alterations than it ever did in England, and in France, where it has undergone still greater than it ever did in Scotland, some ancient rents, originally of considerable value, have, in this manner, been reduced almost to nothing.
English
On the Real and Nominal Price of Commodities, or Their Price in Labor and Their Price in Money.
Everyone is rich or poor according to the degree to which they can afford the necessities, comforts, and pleasures of human life. But once the division of labor is fully established, a person’s own labor can supply only a very small portion of these things. Most must come from other people’s labor, and a person will be rich or poor according to the amount of that labor he can command or afford to buy. The value of a commodity to someone who possesses it, not to use or consume it himself but to exchange it for other commodities, is therefore equal to the quantity of labor it enables him to buy or command. Labor, then, is the real measure of the exchangeable value of all commodities.
The real price of everything, what it truly costs the person who wants to acquire it, is the toil and trouble of acquiring it. What it is truly worth to the person who has acquired it and wants to sell it or exchange it for something else is the toil and trouble it can spare him and impose on others. What is bought with money or goods is purchased by labor just as surely as what we acquire through our own bodily toil. Money or goods, to be sure, spare us that toil. They contain the value of a certain quantity of labor, which we exchange for what is then thought to contain the value of an equal quantity. Labor was the first price, the original means of payment for everything. All the wealth of the world was originally purchased not with gold or silver, but with labor; and its value to those who possess it and wish to exchange it for new products is precisely the quantity of labor it enables them to buy or command.
Wealth, as Mr Hobbes says, is power. But a person who acquires or inherits a great fortune does not necessarily acquire or inherit political power, civil or military. His fortune may provide the means of obtaining both; mere possession of it does not necessarily give him either. The power it gives him immediately and directly is the power to purchase command over a certain amount of the labor, or of the product of labor, then available in the market. His fortune is greater or smaller in exact proportion to the extent of this power: the quantity of other people’s labor or, what amounts to the same thing, of the products of their labor, that it enables him to buy or command. The exchangeable value of anything must always be precisely equal to the extent of the power it gives its owner.
Although labor is the real measure of the exchangeable value of all commodities, it is not the measure by which that value is usually estimated. It is often hard to determine the ratio between two different quantities of labor. The time spent at two kinds of work does not by itself settle that ratio. Their different degrees of hardship and of skill must also be considered. There may be more labor in one hour of hard work than in two hours of easy work; or in an hour spent practicing a trade that took ten years of labor to learn than in a month spent at an ordinary, straightforward occupation. But neither hardship nor skill is easy to measure accurately. When the products of different kinds of labor are exchanged, some allowance is generally made for both. That allowance is determined, however, not by precise measurement but by haggling and bargaining in the market, according to a rough equivalence which, though not exact, is sufficient for the conduct of everyday life.
Moreover, every commodity is more often exchanged for, and thus compared with, other commodities than with labor. It is therefore more natural to estimate its exchangeable value by the amount of some other commodity than by the labor it can command. Most people, too, understand a quantity of a particular commodity better than they understand a quantity of labor. The first is a tangible, readily grasped thing; the second an abstract idea which, although it can be made intelligible enough, is not quite so natural or obvious.
But when barter ends and money becomes the common medium of commerce, each particular commodity is exchanged for money more often than for any other commodity. The butcher seldom takes his beef or mutton to the baker or brewer to exchange it for bread or beer. Instead, he takes it to market and exchanges it for money, which he then exchanges for bread and beer. The amount of money he receives also determines how much bread and beer he can subsequently buy. It is therefore more natural and obvious for him to estimate the meat’s value by the amount of money, the commodity he directly obtains in exchange, than by the amount of bread and beer, which he can obtain only by means of another commodity. He is more likely to say that his meat is worth three-pence or fourpence a-pound than that it is worth three or four pounds of bread or three or four quarts of small beer. Thus the exchangeable value of every commodity is more often estimated by the quantity of money than by the quantity of labor or any other commodity obtainable in exchange for it.
Gold and silver, however, vary in value like every other commodity. Sometimes they are cheaper, sometimes dearer; sometimes easier and sometimes harder to acquire. The quantity of labor a given amount of either can buy or command, or the quantity of other goods for which it can be exchanged, always depends on the richness or poverty of the mines known around the time of the exchange. The discovery of the abundant American mines reduced the value of gold and silver in Europe in the sixteenth century to about a third of its former level. Less labor was required to bring these metals from mine to market, and once there they could buy or command less labor. Though this change in their value was perhaps the greatest, it is by no means the only one recorded by history. A measure of quantity such as the natural foot, fathom, or handful, whose own magnitude continually changes, can never accurately measure the quantity of other things. In the same way, a commodity whose own value continually changes can never accurately measure the value of other commodities. Equal quantities of labor at all times and places may be said to have equal value to the laborer. Given ordinary health, strength, and spirits, and an ordinary level of skill and dexterity, he must always give up the same portion of his ease, liberty, and happiness. The price he pays must always be the same, whatever quantity of goods he receives in return. That labor may indeed buy more goods at one time and fewer at another; but it is the value of the goods that changes, not that of the labor which buys them. Everywhere and always, what is hard to obtain or costs much labor to acquire is dear; what can be had easily or for very little labor is cheap. Labor alone, then, because its own value never changes, is the ultimate and real standard by which the value of all commodities can be estimated and compared at all times and places. Labor is their real price; money is only their nominal price.
Although equal quantities of labor always have equal value to the laborer, to the person who employs him they sometimes appear to be worth more and sometimes less. The employer sometimes purchases them with more goods, sometimes with fewer; to him the price of labor seems to change like the price of everything else. In one case it appears dear, in the other cheap. In reality, however, it is the goods that are cheap in the first case and dear in the second.
In this common sense, therefore, labor, like commodities, may be said to have both a real and a nominal price. Its real price consists of the quantity of necessities and comforts of life given for it; its nominal price, of the quantity of money. The laborer is rich or poor, well or poorly paid, according to the real price of his labor, not the nominal one.
The distinction between the real and nominal price of commodities and labor is not mere speculation; at times it can be of considerable practical use. The same real price always has the same value, but because the value of gold and silver changes, the same nominal price sometimes has very different values. When a landed estate is sold subject to a perpetual rent, therefore, if that rent is meant always to have the same value, it matters to the family for whose benefit it is reserved that it not be a fixed sum of money. Otherwise its value will be exposed to two kinds of change: first, changes in the quantity of gold and silver contained at different times in coins of the same denomination; second, changes over time in the value of equal quantities of gold and silver.
Princes and sovereign states have often imagined that they had a temporary interest in reducing the amount of pure metal in their coins, but have rarely imagined they had any interest in increasing it. Accordingly, the amount of metal in the coins of almost all nations, I believe, has declined almost continuously and has hardly ever increased. Such changes, therefore, almost always tend to reduce the value of a money rent.
The discovery of the American mines reduced the value of gold and silver in Europe. This decline is commonly supposed to be continuing gradually and likely to continue for a long time, though I think there is no certain proof of it. On that supposition, such changes are more likely to diminish than increase the value of a money rent, even if payment is specified not as a quantity of coin of a certain denomination—in so many pounds sterling, for example—but as so many ounces of pure silver or of silver of a certain standard.
Rents reserved in corn have preserved their value far better than rents reserved in money, even where the coin’s denomination has remained unchanged. By the 18th of Elizabeth, a third of the rent on all college leases was required to be reserved in corn, payable either in kind or according to current prices at the nearest public market. According to Dr Blackstone, the money yielded by this corn rent, originally only a third of the whole, is now commonly nearly twice what is yielded by the other two-thirds. On this account, the colleges’ old money rents must have fallen almost to a fourth of their former value, or be worth little more than a fourth of the corn they formerly bought. Yet since the reign of Philip and Mary, the denomination of English coin has changed little if at all, and the same number of pounds, shillings, and pence has contained very nearly the same amount of pure silver. This fall in the value of college money rents, therefore, arises entirely from the fall in the value of silver.
When the fall in the value of silver is combined with a reduction in the quantity of silver contained in a coin of the same denomination, the loss is often greater still. In Scotland, where the denomination of coin has changed far more than it ever did in England, and in France, where it has changed even more than it ever did in Scotland, some old rents that originally had considerable value have in this way been reduced to almost nothing.
Book I, Chapter V, 2
18th-century English
Equal quantities of labour will, at distant times, be purchased more nearly with equal quantities of corn, the subsistence of the labourer, than with equal quantities of gold and silver, or, perhaps, of any other commodity. Equal quantities of corn, therefore, will, at distant times, be more nearly of the same real value, or enable the possessor to purchase or command more nearly the same quantity of the labour of other people. They will do this, I say, more nearly than equal quantities of almost any other commodity; for even equal quantities of corn will not do it exactly. The subsistence of the labourer, or the real price of labour, as I shall endeavour to shew hereafter, is very different upon different occasions; more liberal in a society advancing to opulence, than in one that is standing still, and in one that is standing still, than in one that is going backwards. Every other commodity, however, will, at any particular time, purchase a greater or smaller quantity of labour, in proportion to the quantity of subsistence which it can purchase at that time. A rent, therefore, reserved in corn, is liable only to the variations in the quantity of labour which a certain quantity of corn can purchase. But a rent reserved in any other commodity is liable, not only to the variations in the quantity of labour which any particular quantity of corn can purchase, but to the variations in the quantity of corn which can be purchased by any particular quantity of that commodity.
Though the real value of a corn rent, it is to be observed, however, varies much less from century to century than that of a money rent, it varies much more from year to year. The money price of labour, as I shall endeavour to shew hereafter, does not fluctuate from year to year with the money price of corn, but seems to be everywhere accommodated, not to the temporary or occasional, but to the average or ordinary price of that necessary of life. The average or ordinary price of corn, again is regulated, as I shall likewise endeavour to shew hereafter, by the value of silver, by the richness or barrenness of the mines which supply the market with that metal, or by the quantity of labour which must be employed, and consequently of corn which must be consumed, in order to bring any particular quantity of silver from the mine to the market. But the value of silver, though it sometimes varies greatly from century to century, seldom varies much from year to year, but frequently continues the same, or very nearly the same, for half a century or a century together. The ordinary or average money price of corn, therefore, may, during so long a period, continue the same, or very nearly the same, too, and along with it the money price of labour, provided, at least, the society continues, in other respects, in the same, or nearly in the same, condition. In the mean time, the temporary and occasional price of corn may frequently be double one year of what it had been the year before, or fluctuate, for example, from five-and-twenty to fifty shillings the quarter. But when corn is at the latter price, not only the nominal, but the real value of a corn rent, will be double of what it is when at the former, or will command double the quantity either of labour, or of the greater part of other commodities; the money price of labour, and along with it that of most other things, continuing the same during all these fluctuations.
Labour, therefore, it appears evidently, is the only universal, as well as the only accurate, measure of value, or the only standard by which we can compare the values of different commodities, at all times, and at all places. We cannot estimate, it is allowed, the real value of different commodities from century to century by the quantities of silver which were given for them. We cannot estimate it from year to year by the quantities of corn. By the quantities of labour, we can, with the greatest accuracy, estimate it, both from century to century, and from year to year. From century to century, corn is a better measure than silver, because, from century to century, equal quantities of corn will command the same quantity of labour more nearly than equal quantities of silver. From year to year, on the contrary, silver is a better measure than corn, because equal quantities of it will more nearly command the same quantity of labour.
But though, in establishing perpetual rents, or even in letting very long leases, it may be of use to distinguish between real and nominal price; it is of none in buying and selling, the more common and ordinary transactions of human life.
At the same time and place, the real and the nominal price of all commodities are exactly in proportion to one another. The more or less money you get for any commodity, in the London market, for example, the more or less labour it will at that time and place enable you to purchase or command. At the same time and place, therefore, money is the exact measure of the real exchangeable value of all commodities. It is so, however, at the same time and place only.
Though at distant places there is no regular proportion between the real and the money price of commodities, yet the merchant who carries goods from the one to the other, has nothing to consider but the money price, or the difference between the quantity of silver for which he buys them, and that for which he is likely to sell them. Half an ounce of silver at Canton in China may command a greater quantity both of labour and of the necessaries and conveniencies of life, than an ounce at London. A commodity, therefore, which sells for half an ounce of silver at Canton, may there be really dearer, of more real importance to the man who possesses it there, than a commodity which sells for an ounce at London is to the man who possesses it at London. If a London merchant, however, can buy at Canton, for half an ounce of silver, a commodity which he can afterwards sell at London for an ounce, he gains a hundred per cent. by the bargain, just as much as if an ounce of silver was at London exactly of the same value as at Canton. It is of no importance to him that half an ounce of silver at Canton would have given him the command of more labour, and of a greater quantity of the necessaries and conveniencies of life than an ounce can do at London. An ounce at London will always give him the command of double the quantity of all these, which half an ounce could have done there, and this is precisely what he wants.
As it is the nominal or money price of goods, therefore, which finally determines the prudence or imprudence of all purchases and sales, and thereby regulates almost the whole business of common life in which price is concerned, we cannot wonder that it should have been so much more attended to than the real price.
In such a work as this, however, it may sometimes be of use to compare the different real values of a particular commodity at different times and places, or the different degrees of power over the labour of other people which it may, upon different occasions, have given to those who possessed it. We must in this case compare, not so much the different quantities of silver for which it was commonly sold, as the different quantities or labour which those different quantities of silver could have purchased. But the current prices of labour, at distant times and places, can scarce ever be known with any degree of exactness. Those of corn, though they have in few places been regularly recorded, are in general better known, and have been more frequently taken notice of by historians and other writers. We must generally, therefore, content ourselves with them, not as being always exactly in the same proportion as the current prices of labour, but as being the nearest approximation which can commonly be had to that proportion. I shall hereafter have occasion to make several comparisons of this kind.
In the progress of industry, commercial nations have found it convenient to coin several different metals into money; gold for larger payments, silver for purchases of moderate value, and copper, or some other coarse metal, for those of still smaller consideration, They have always, however, considered one of those metals as more peculiarly the measure of value than any of the other two; and this preference seems generally to have been given to the metal which they happen first to make use of as the instrument of commerce. Having once begun to use it as their standard, which they must have done when they had no other money, they have generally continued to do so even when the necessity was not the same.
The Romans are said to have had nothing but copper money till within five years before the first Punic war (Pliny, lib. xxxiii. cap. 3), when they first began to coin silver. Copper, therefore, appears to have continued always the measure of value in that republic. At Rome all accounts appear to have been kept, and the value of all estates to have been computed, either in asses or in sestertii. The as was always the denomination of a copper coin. The word sestertius signifies two asses and a half. Though the sestertius, therefore, was originally a silver coin, its value was estimated in copper. At Rome, one who owed a great deal of money was said to have a great deal of other people’s copper.
The northern nations who established themselves upon the ruins of the Roman empire, seem to have had silver money from the first beginning of their settlements, and not to have known either gold or copper coins for several ages thereafter. There were silver coins in England in the time of the Saxons; but there was little gold coined till the time of Edward III nor any copper till that of James I. of Great Britain. In England, therefore, and for the same reason, I believe, in all other modern nations of Europe, all accounts are kept, and the value of all goods and of all estates is generally computed, in silver: and when we mean to express the amount of a person’s fortune, we seldom mention the number of guineas, but the number of pounds sterling which we suppose would be given for it.
Originally, in all countries, I believe, a legal tender of payment could be made only in the coin of that metal which was peculiarly considered as the standard or measure of value. In England, gold was not considered as a legal tender for a long time after it was coined into money. The proportion between the values of gold and silver money was not fixed by any public law or proclamation, but was left to be settled by the market. If a debtor offered payment in gold, the creditor might either reject such payment altogether, or accept of it at such a valuation of the gold as he and his debtor could agree upon. Copper is not at present a legal tender, except in the change of the smaller silver coins.
In this state of things, the distinction between the metal which was the standard, and that which was not the standard, was something more than a nominal distinction.
In process of time, and as people became gradually more familiar with the use of the different metals in coin, and consequently better acquainted with the proportion between their respective values, it has, in most countries, I believe, been found convenient to ascertain this proportion, and to declare by a public law, that a guinea, for example, of such a weight and fineness, should exchange for one-and-twenty shillings, or be a legal tender for a debt of that amount. In this state of things, and during the continuance of any one regulated proportion of this kind, the distinction between the metal, which is the standard, and that which is not the standard, becomes little more than a nominal distinction.
In consequence of any change, however, in this regulated proportion, this distinction becomes, or at least seems to become, something more than nominal again. If the regulated value of a guinea, for example, was either reduced to twenty, or raised to two-and-twenty shillings, all accounts being kept, and almost all obligations for debt being expressed, in silver money, the greater part of payments could in either case be made with the same quantity of silver money as before; but would require very different quantities of gold money; a greater in the one case, and a smaller in the other. Silver would appear to be more invariable in its value than gold. Silver would appear to measure the value of gold, and gold would not appear to measure the value of silver. The value of gold would seem to depend upon the quantity of silver which it would exchange for, and the value of silver would not seem to depend upon the quantity of gold which it would exchange for. This difference, however, would be altogether owing to the custom of keeping accounts, and of expressing the amount of all great and small sums rather in silver than in gold money. One of Mr Drummond’s notes for five-and-twenty or fifty guineas would, after an alteration of this kind, be still payable with five-and-twenty or fifty guineas, in the same manner as before. It would, after such an alteration, be payable with the same quantity of gold as before, but with very different quantities of silver. In the payment of such a note, gold would appear to be more invariable in its value than silver. Gold would appear to measure the value of silver, and silver would not appear to measure the value of gold. If the custom of keeping accounts, and of expressing promissory-notes and other obligations for money, in this manner should ever become general, gold, and not silver, would be considered as the metal which was peculiarly the standard or measure of value.
English
Across widely separated periods, equal quantities of labor can be purchased more nearly with equal quantities of corn, the laborer’s subsistence, than with equal quantities of gold and silver, or perhaps of any other commodity. Thus equal quantities of corn will have more nearly the same real value across distant periods, enabling their possessor to buy or command more nearly the same amount of other people’s labor. I say more nearly than almost any other commodity, for equal quantities of corn will not do so exactly. As I shall try to show later, the laborer’s subsistence, or the real price of labor, differs greatly under different conditions: it is more generous in a society advancing toward prosperity than in one standing still, and more generous in one standing still than in one in decline. Yet at any given time every other commodity will purchase more or less labor in proportion to how much subsistence it can purchase at that time. A rent reserved in corn, therefore, is subject only to changes in the quantity of labor that a fixed amount of corn can buy. A rent reserved in any other commodity is subject both to those changes and to changes in the amount of corn that a fixed amount of that commodity can buy.
It should be noted, however, that although the real value of a corn rent changes much less from century to century than that of a money rent, it changes much more from year to year. As I shall try to show later, the money price of labor does not fluctuate from year to year with the money price of corn. Rather, everywhere it seems to adjust not to the temporary or occasional price of that necessary of life, but to its average or ordinary price. The average or ordinary price of corn, in turn, is governed, as I shall also try to show later, by the value of silver: by the richness or poverty of the mines that supply the market with that metal, or by the labor that must be employed, and therefore the corn that must be consumed, to bring a given amount of silver from mine to market. Although the value of silver sometimes changes greatly from century to century, it seldom changes much from year to year; often it remains the same, or very nearly so, for half a century or a century at a time. The ordinary or average money price of corn may therefore remain the same, or nearly so, for just as long, along with the money price of labor, provided at least that society remains in the same or nearly the same condition in other respects. Meanwhile the temporary, occasional price of corn may often be twice as high one year as the year before, fluctuating, for example, from five-and-twenty to fifty shillings the quarter. But when corn is at the higher price, not only the nominal but the real value of a corn rent will be twice what it is at the lower price. It will command twice as much labor, or twice as much of most other commodities, while the money price of labor and of most other things remains unchanged through these fluctuations.
It is evident, then, that labor is the only universal and the only accurate measure of value: the only standard by which we can compare the values of different commodities at every time and place. We cannot, admittedly, estimate their real value across centuries from the quantities of silver paid for them. We cannot estimate it from year to year from quantities of corn. By quantities of labor we can estimate it with the greatest accuracy both from century to century and from year to year. Across centuries corn is a better measure than silver, since equal quantities of corn will command more nearly the same amount of labor than equal quantities of silver. From year to year, by contrast, silver is a better measure than corn, since equal quantities of silver will more nearly command the same amount of labor.
But although the distinction between real and nominal price may be useful in establishing perpetual rents or even granting very long leases, it is of no use in buying and selling, the more common transactions of human life.
At the same time and place, the real and nominal prices of all commodities bear exactly the same proportion to each other. The more money you receive for a commodity in the London market, for example, the more labor that money will allow you to buy or command there and then; the less money, the less labor. At a given time and place, then, money measures the real exchangeable value of all commodities exactly. It does so, however, only at that time and place.
Although there is no regular proportion between the real and money prices of commodities in distant places, a merchant carrying goods from one to another need consider only the money price: the difference between the amount of silver for which he buys them and the amount for which he expects to sell them. Half an ounce of silver at Canton in China may command more labor and more of the necessities and comforts of life than an ounce at London. A commodity that sells at Canton for half an ounce of silver may thus be genuinely dearer there, of greater real importance to its owner there, than a commodity selling for an ounce at London is to its owner in London. If, however, a London merchant can buy at Canton for half an ounce of silver something he can then sell at London for an ounce, he gains a hundred per cent. on the deal, exactly as if an ounce of silver had the same value in London as in Canton. It makes no difference to him that half an ounce of silver at Canton would command more labor and more of the necessities and comforts of life than an ounce can command at London. An ounce at London will always command twice as much of all these things there as half an ounce would, and that is precisely what he wants.
Since it is the nominal or money price of goods that ultimately determines whether purchases and sales are prudent, and thus regulates almost all the business of everyday life that involves price, it is no wonder that it has received far more attention than the real price.
In a work such as this, however, it may sometimes be useful to compare the real values of a particular commodity at different times and places, or the varying degrees of power over other people’s labor it has given its possessors. In such a case we must compare not so much the different quantities of silver for which the commodity was usually sold as the quantities of labor those quantities of silver could buy. But prevailing prices of labor at distant times and places can hardly ever be known with any precision. Corn prices, though regularly recorded in few places, are generally better known and have more often been noted by historians and other writers. We must therefore usually make do with them, not because they are always in exactly the same proportion as prevailing labor prices, but because they are commonly the closest approximation available to that proportion. Later I shall have occasion to make several comparisons of this kind.
As industry has advanced, commercial nations have found it convenient to mint money from several different metals: gold for larger payments, silver for purchases of moderate value, and copper or another base metal for still smaller ones. They have always, however, regarded one of these metals as more particularly the measure of value than either of the other two. This preference seems generally to have gone to the metal they first happened to use as a medium of commerce. Once they began to use it as their standard, as they must have done when they had no other money, they generally continued to do so even when it was no longer necessary.
The Romans are said to have had only copper money until within five years before the first Punic war (Pliny, lib. xxxiii. cap. 3), when they first began to coin silver. Copper therefore seems always to have remained the measure of value in that republic. At Rome accounts appear to have been kept, and the values of estates reckoned, in either asses or sestertii. The as was always the name of a copper coin. The word sestertius means two asses and a half. Thus, although the sestertius was originally a silver coin, its value was reckoned in copper. At Rome a person who owed a great deal of money was said to owe a great deal of other people’s copper.
The northern nations that settled on the ruins of the Roman empire appear to have had silver money from the beginning of their settlements, and to have known neither gold nor copper coins for several centuries afterward. There were silver coins in England in Saxon times, but little gold was coined until the time of Edward III and no copper until that of James I. of Great Britain. In England, therefore, and for the same reason, I believe, in every other modern European nation, accounts are kept and the values of goods and estates usually reckoned in silver. When we state the size of a person’s fortune, we rarely give the number of guineas, but instead the number of pounds sterling we think it would fetch.
Originally, I believe, in every country a payment could be made as legal tender only in coins of the metal regarded particularly as the standard or measure of value. In England gold was not considered legal tender for a long time after it began to be coined. The ratio between the values of gold and silver money was not fixed by law or public proclamation, but left to the market. If a debtor offered to pay in gold, the creditor could reject it altogether or accept it at whatever valuation he and the debtor agreed upon. Copper is not now legal tender except as change for the smaller silver coins.
Under these conditions, the distinction between the metal that was the standard and the metal that was not amounted to more than a distinction in name.
As time passed and people grew more familiar with coins made of different metals, and so better understood the ratio between their respective values, most countries, I believe, found it convenient to fix that ratio. They declared by law, for example, that a guinea of a specified weight and fineness should exchange for one-and-twenty shillings, or be legal tender for a debt of that amount. Under these conditions, and for as long as any one regulated ratio remains in force, the distinction between the metal that is the standard and the metal that is not becomes little more than a distinction in name.
With any change in this regulated ratio, however, the distinction again becomes, or at least seems to become, more than nominal. Suppose, for example, that the regulated value of a guinea were reduced to twenty shillings or raised to two-and-twenty. Because all accounts are kept and nearly all debts are stated in silver money, most payments could still be made in either case with the same amount of silver money as before, but would require very different amounts of gold money—more in the first case, less in the second. Silver would appear to hold its value more steadily than gold. Silver would appear to measure gold’s value, while gold would not appear to measure silver’s. Gold’s value would seem to depend on the amount of silver for which it could be exchanged, while silver’s value would not seem to depend on the amount of gold it would bring. This difference, however, would arise entirely from the custom of keeping accounts and stating the amounts of both large and small sums in silver rather than gold money. After a change of this kind, one of Mr Drummond’s notes for five-and-twenty or fifty guineas would still be payable in five-and-twenty or fifty guineas, just as before. It would be payable with the same quantity of gold as before, but with very different quantities of silver. In paying such a note, gold would appear to hold its value more steadily than silver. Gold would appear to measure silver’s value, while silver would not appear to measure gold’s. If it ever became general practice to keep accounts and state promissory-notes and other monetary obligations in this way, gold rather than silver would be regarded as the metal that particularly served as the standard or measure of value.
Book I, Chapter V, 3
18th-century English
In reality, during the continuance of any one regulated proportion between the respective values of the different metals in coin, the value of the most precious metal regulates the value of the whole coin. Twelve copper pence contain half a pound avoirdupois of copper, of not the best quality, which, before it is coined, is seldom worth seven-pence in silver. But as, by the regulation, twelve such pence are ordered to exchange for a shilling, they are in the market considered as worth a shilling, and a shilling can at any time be had for them. Even before the late reformation of the gold coin of Great Britain, the gold, that part of it at least which circulated in London and its neighbourhood, was in general less degraded below its standard weight than the greater part of the silver. One-and-twenty worn and defaced shillings, however, were considered as equivalent to a guinea, which, perhaps, indeed, was worn and defaced too, but seldom so much so. The late regulations have brought the gold coin as near, perhaps, to its standard weight as it is possible to bring the current coin of any nation; and the order to receive no gold at the public offices but by weight, is likely to preserve it so, as long as that order is enforced. The silver coin still continues in the same worn and degraded state as before the reformation of the cold coin. In the market, however, one-and-twenty shillings of this degraded silver coin are still considered as worth a guinea of this excellent gold coin.
The reformation of the gold coin has evidently raised the value of the silver coin which can be exchanged for it.
In the English mint, a pound weight of gold is coined into forty-four guineas and a half, which at one-and-twenty shillings the guinea, is equal to forty-six pounds fourteen shillings and sixpence. An ounce of such gold coin, therefore, is worth £ 3:17:10½ in silver. In England, no duty or seignorage is paid upon the coinage, and he who carries a pound weight or an ounce weight of standard gold bullion to the mint, gets back a pound weight or an ounce weight of gold in coin, without any deduction. Three pounds seventeen shillings and tenpence halfpenny an ounce, therefore, is said to be the mint price of gold in England, or the quantity of gold coin which the mint gives in return for standard gold bullion.
Before the reformation of the gold coin, the price of standard gold bullion in the market had, for many years, been upwards of £3:18s. sometimes £ 3:19s, and very frequently £4 an ounce; that sum, it is probable, in the worn and degraded gold coin, seldom containing more than an ounce of standard gold. Since the reformation of the gold coin, the market price of standard gold bullion seldom exceeds £ 3:17:7 an ounce. Before the reformation of the gold coin, the market price was always more or less above the mint price. Since that reformation, the market price has been constantly below the mint price. But that market price is the same whether it is paid in gold or in silver coin. The late reformation of the gold coin, therefore, has raised not only the value of the gold coin, but likewise that of the silver coin in proportion to gold bullion, and probably, too, in proportion to all other commodities; though the price of the greater part of other commodities being influenced by so many other causes, the rise in the value of either gold or silver coin in proportion to them may not be so distinct and sensible.
In the English mint, a pound weight of standard silver bullion is coined into sixty-two shillings, containing, in the same manner, a pound weight of standard silver. Five shillings and twopence an ounce, therefore, is said to be the mint price of silver in England, or the quantity of silver coin which the mint gives in return for standard silver bullion. Before the reformation of the gold coin, the market price of standard silver bullion was, upon different occasions, five shillings and fourpence, five shillings and fivepence, five shillings and sixpence, five shillings and sevenpence, and very often five shillings and eightpence an ounce. Five shillings and sevenpence, however, seems to have been the most common price. Since the reformation of the gold coin, the market price of standard silver bullion has fallen occasionally to five shillings and threepence, five shillings and fourpence, and five shillings and fivepence an ounce, which last price it has scarce ever exceeded. Though the market price of silver bullion has fallen considerably since the reformation of the gold coin, it has not fallen so low as the mint price.
In the proportion between the different metals in the English coin, as copper is rated very much above its real value, so silver is rated somewhat below it. In the market of Europe, in the French coin and in the Dutch coin, an ounce of fine gold exchanges for about fourteen ounces of fine silver. In the English coin, it exchanges for about fifteen ounces, that is, for more silver than it is worth, according to the common estimation of Europe. But as the price of copper in bars is not, even in England, raised by the high price of copper in English coin, so the price of silver in bullion is not sunk by the low rate of silver in English coin. Silver in bullion still preserves its proper proportion to gold, for the same reason that copper in bars preserves its proper proportion to silver.
Upon the reformation of the silver coin, in the reign of William III., the price of silver bullion still continued to be somewhat above the mint price. Mr Locke imputed this high price to the permission of exporting silver bullion, and to the prohibition of exporting silver coin. This permission of exporting, he said, rendered the demand for silver bullion greater than the demand for silver coin. But the number of people who want silver coin for the common uses of buying and selling at home, is surely much greater than that of those who want silver bullion either for the use of exportation or for any other use. There subsists at present a like permission of exporting gold bullion, and a like prohibition of exporting gold coin; and yet the price of gold bullion has fallen below the mint price. But in the English coin, silver was then, in the same manner as now, under-rated in proportion to gold; and the gold coin (which at that time, too, was not supposed to require any reformation) regulated then, as well as now, the real value of the whole coin. As the reformation of the silver coin did not then reduce the price of silver bullion to the mint price, it is not very probable that a like reformation will do so now.
Were the silver coin brought back as near to its standard weight as the gold, a guinea, it is probable, would, according to the present proportion, exchange for more silver in coin than it would purchase in bullion. The silver coin containing its full standard weight, there would in this case, be a profit in melting it down, in order, first to sell the bullion for gold coin, and afterwards to exchange this gold coin for silver coin, to be melted down in the same manner. Some alteration in the present proportion seems to be the only method of preventing this inconveniency.
The inconveniency, perhaps, would be less, if silver was rated in the coin as much above its proper proportion to gold as it is at present rated below it, provided it was at the same time enacted, that silver should not be a legal tender for more than the change of a guinea, in the same manner as copper is not a legal tender for more than the change of a shilling. No creditor could, in this case, be cheated in consequence of the high valuation of silver in coin; as no creditor can at present be cheated in consequence of the high valuation of copper. The bankers only would suffer by this regulation. When a run comes upon them, they sometimes endeavour to gain time, by paying in sixpences, and they would be precluded by this regulation from this discreditable method of evading immediate payment. They would be obliged, in consequence, to keep at all times in their coffers a greater quantity of cash than at present; and though this might, no doubt, be a considerable inconveniency to them, it would, at the same time, be a considerable security to their creditors.
Three pounds seventeen shillings and tenpence halfpenny (the mint price of gold) certainly does not contain, even in our present excellent gold coin, more than an ounce of standard gold, and it may be thought, therefore, should not purchase more standard bullion. But gold in coin is more convenient than gold in bullion; and though, in England, the coinage is free, yet the gold which is carried in bullion to the mint, can seldom be returned in coin to the owner till after a delay of several weeks. In the present hurry of the mint, it could not be returned till after a delay of several months. This delay is equivalent to a small duty, and renders gold in coin somewhat more valuable than an equal quantity of gold in bullion. If, in the English coin, silver was rated according to its proper proportion to gold, the price of silver bullion would probably fall below the mint price, even without any reformation of the silver coin; the value even of the present worn and defaced silver coin being regulated by the value of the excellent gold coin for which it can be changed.
A small seignorage or duty upon the coinage of both gold and silver, would probably increase still more the superiority of those metals in coin above an equal quantity of either of them in bullion. The coinage would, in this case, increase the value of the metal coined in proportion to the extent of this small duty, for the same reason that the fashion increases the value of plate in proportion to the price of that fashion. The superiority of coin above bullion would prevent the melting down of the coin, and would discourage its exportation. If, upon any public exigency, it should become necessary to export the coin, the greater part of it would soon return again, of its own accord. Abroad, it could sell only for its weight in bullion. At home, it would buy more than that weight. There would be a profit, therefore, in bringing it home again. In France, a seignorage of about eight per cent. is imposed upon the coinage, and the French coin, when exported, is said to return home again, of its own accord.
The occasional fluctuations in the market price of gold and silver bullion arise from the same causes as the like fluctuations in that of all other commodities. The frequent loss of those metals from various accidents by sea and by land, the continual waste of them in gilding and plating, in lace and embroidery, in the wear and tear of coin, and in that of plate, require, in all countries which possess no mines of their own, a continual importation, in order to repair this loss and this waste. The merchant importers, like all other merchants, we may believe, endeavour, as well as they can, to suit their occasional importations to what they judge is likely to be the immediate demand. With all their attention, however, they sometimes overdo the business, and sometimes underdo it. When they import more bullion than is wanted, rather than incur the risk and trouble of exporting it again, they are sometimes willing to sell a part of it for something less than the ordinary or average price. When, on the other hand, they import less than is wanted, they get something more than this price. But when, under all those occasional fluctuations, the market price either of gold or silver bullion continues for several years together steadily and constantly, either more or less above, or more or less below the mint price, we may be assured that this steady and constant, either superiority or inferiority of price, is the effect of something in the state of the coin, which, at that time, renders a certain quantity of coin either of more value or of less value than the precise quantity of bullion which it ought to contain. The constancy and steadiness of the effect supposes a proportionable constancy and steadiness in the cause.
The money of any particular country is, at any particular time and place, more or less an accurate measure or value, according as the current coin is more or less exactly agreeable to its standard, or contains more or less exactly the precise quantity of pure gold or pure silver which it ought to contain. If in England, for example, forty-four guineas and a half contained exactly a pound weight of standard gold, or eleven ounces of fine gold, and one ounce of alloy, the gold coin of England would be as accurate a measure of the actual value of goods at any particular time and place as the nature of the thing would admit. But if, by rubbing and wearing, forty-four guineas and a half generally contain less than a pound weight of standard gold, the diminution, however, being greater in some pieces than in others, the measure of value comes to be liable to the same sort of uncertainty to which all other weights and measures are commonly exposed. As it rarely happens that these are exactly agreeable to their standard, the merchant adjusts the price of his goods as well as he can, not to what those weights and measures ought to be, but to what, upon an average, he finds, by experience, they actually are. In consequence of a like disorder in the coin, the price of goods comes, in the same manner, to be adjusted, not to the quantity of pure gold or silver which the coin ought to contain, but to that which, upon an average, it is found, by experience, it actually does contain.
By the money price of goods, it is to be observed, I understand always the quantity of pure gold or silver for which they are sold, without any regard to the denomination of the coin. Six shillings and eight pence, for example, in the time of Edward I., I consider as the same money price with a pound sterling in the present times, because it contained, as nearly as we can judge, the same quantity of pure silver.
English
In fact, so long as a fixed ratio governs the respective values of the metals in the coinage, the most precious metal determines the value of all the coin. Twelve copper pence contain half a pound avoirdupois of copper of less than the best quality, which before minting is seldom worth seven-pence in silver. Yet because the regulation requires twelve such pence to exchange for a shilling, the market treats them as worth a shilling, and a shilling can always be obtained for them. Even before the recent reform of Great Britain's gold coin, the gold coin circulating in London and its neighborhood was generally less worn below its standard weight than most of the silver coin. Nevertheless, one-and-twenty worn and defaced shillings were reckoned equal to a guinea, itself perhaps worn and defaced, but seldom to the same extent. The recent regulations have brought gold coin perhaps as close to its standard weight as any nation's circulating coin can be brought; the order that public offices accept gold only by weight should keep it so for as long as it is enforced. Silver coin remains as worn and degraded as it was before the reform of the gold coin. In the market, however, one-and-twenty shillings of this degraded silver coin are still held to be worth a guinea of this excellent gold coin.
The reform of the gold coin has plainly raised the value of the silver coin for which it can be exchanged.
At the English mint, a pound weight of gold is coined into forty-four guineas and a half; at one-and-twenty shillings per guinea, this equals forty-six pounds fourteen shillings and sixpence. An ounce of such gold coin is therefore worth £ 3:17:10½ in silver. In England no duty or seignorage is charged for coinage: someone who takes a pound weight or an ounce weight of standard gold bullion to the mint receives the same weight of gold coin, without deduction. Three pounds seventeen shillings and tenpence halfpenny per ounce is thus called the English mint price of gold: the quantity of gold coin the mint gives for standard gold bullion.
Before the reform of the gold coin, standard gold bullion had for many years sold in the market for upwards of £3:18s. an ounce, sometimes £ 3:19s, and very often £4; in worn and degraded gold coin, that sum probably seldom contained more than an ounce of standard gold. Since the reform, the market price of standard gold bullion seldom exceeds £ 3:17:7 an ounce. Before the reform its market price was always somewhat above its mint price; since then it has consistently been below it. Yet the market price is the same whether paid in gold coin or silver coin. Thus the recent reform has raised not only the value of gold coin but that of silver coin relative to gold bullion, and probably relative to every other commodity as well. Because so many other causes affect the prices of most commodities, however, the rise in the value of gold or silver coin relative to them may be less clear and perceptible.
At the English mint, a pound weight of standard silver bullion is coined into sixty-two shillings, which likewise contain a pound weight of standard silver. Five shillings and twopence an ounce is therefore called the mint price of silver in England: the quantity of silver coin the mint gives for standard silver bullion. Before the reform of the gold coin, standard silver bullion sold in the market at various times for five shillings and fourpence, five shillings and fivepence, five shillings and sixpence, five shillings and sevenpence, and very often five shillings and eightpence an ounce. Five shillings and sevenpence, however, seems to have been the commonest price. Since the reform, its market price has sometimes fallen to five shillings and threepence, five shillings and fourpence, or five shillings and fivepence an ounce; it has scarcely ever exceeded the last of these prices. Though the market price of silver bullion has fallen considerably since the reform of the gold coin, it has not fallen as low as the mint price.
Among the metals in English coin, copper is valued far above its real value, while silver is valued somewhat below its own. In European markets, and in French and Dutch coinage, an ounce of fine gold exchanges for about fourteen ounces of fine silver. In English coinage it exchanges for about fifteen ounces—more silver than it is worth by the usual European reckoning. Yet just as the high valuation of English copper coin does not raise the price of copper in bars, even in England, the low valuation of English silver coin does not depress the price of silver bullion. Bullion silver preserves its proper ratio to gold for the same reason that bar copper preserves its proper ratio to silver.
After the reform of the silver coin under William III., the price of silver bullion still remained somewhat above the mint price. Mr Locke attributed this high price to the permission to export silver bullion and the prohibition on exporting silver coin. Permission to export, he said, made the demand for silver bullion greater than the demand for silver coin. Surely, however, far more people need silver coin for ordinary domestic buying and selling than need silver bullion for export or any other purpose. Today gold bullion may likewise be exported while gold coin may not, and yet the price of gold bullion has fallen below the mint price. At that time, as now, silver was undervalued relative to gold in English coinage; and gold coin, which even then was not thought to need reform, determined the real value of all the coin, as it does today. Since reforming the silver coin did not then bring the price of silver bullion down to the mint price, a similar reform is unlikely to do so now.
If silver coin were restored as nearly to standard weight as gold coin, a guinea would probably, at the present ratio, exchange for more silver in coin than it could buy in bullion. With silver coin at its full standard weight, a profit could be made by melting it down, selling the bullion for gold coin, and then exchanging that gold coin for more silver coin to be melted in turn. Some change in the present ratio seems the only way to prevent this inconvenience.
The inconvenience might be smaller if silver were valued in coin as far above its proper ratio to gold as it is now valued below it, provided the law at the same time limited silver as legal tender to no more than the change of a guinea, just as copper is legal tender for no more than the change of a shilling. In that case no creditor could be cheated by the high valuation of silver coin, just as no creditor can now be cheated by the high valuation of copper. Only bankers would suffer from the regulation. When a run on a bank occurs, bankers sometimes try to gain time by paying in sixpences; this rule would deny them that discreditable means of evading immediate payment. They would consequently have to keep more cash in their coffers at all times. Although this would undoubtedly be a considerable inconvenience to them, it would also give their creditors considerable security.
Three pounds seventeen shillings and tenpence halfpenny, the mint price of gold, certainly contains no more than an ounce of standard gold even in our excellent present gold coin; it may therefore seem that it ought not to buy more than an ounce of standard bullion. But coined gold is more convenient than bullion. Although coinage is free in England, gold taken to the mint as bullion seldom comes back to its owner in coin before several weeks have passed. With the mint presently so busy, the delay would be several months. Such delay amounts to a small duty and makes coined gold somewhat more valuable than an equal quantity of bullion. If English silver coin were valued at its proper ratio to gold, the price of silver bullion would probably fall below the mint price without any reform of the silver coin: even today's worn and defaced silver coin derives its value from the excellent gold coin for which it can be exchanged.
A small seignorage or coinage duty on both gold and silver would probably increase still further the advantage that the coined metals have over equal amounts of bullion. Minting would raise the value of the metal coined in proportion to the size of this small duty, just as workmanship raises the value of plate by the price of that workmanship. The higher value of coin would prevent its being melted down and discourage its export. If a public emergency made export necessary, most of the coin would soon return home of its own accord. Abroad it would sell only for its weight as bullion; at home it would buy more than that weight. Bringing it home again would therefore be profitable. France imposes a seignorage of about eight per cent. on coinage, and exported French coin is said to return home of its own accord.
Occasional fluctuations in the market prices of gold and silver bullion have the same causes as fluctuations in the prices of other commodities. Accidents on land and sea frequently destroy some of these metals; gilding, plating, lace, embroidery, and wear to coin and plate consume them continually. Countries without mines must therefore import them continually to replace these losses. We may suppose that importing merchants, like other merchants, try to match their occasional imports to what they judge the immediate demand will be. Yet for all their care, they sometimes bring in too much and sometimes too little. When they bring in more bullion than is wanted, they may prefer selling some of it below its usual or average price to risking and troubling themselves with exporting it again. When they bring in less, they obtain somewhat more than that price. But if, despite these occasional fluctuations, the market price of gold or silver bullion remains steadily above or below the mint price for years together, we can be sure that the persistent difference is caused by some condition of the coin. That condition makes a given quantity of coin worth either more or less than the exact quantity of bullion it ought to contain. An enduring and steady effect presupposes an equally enduring and steady cause.
A country's money at any given place and time measures value more or less accurately according to how closely its circulating coin meets its standard—how exactly it contains the prescribed quantity of pure gold or silver. If, for example, forty-four guineas and a half in England contained exactly a pound weight of standard gold, or eleven ounces of fine gold and one ounce of alloy, English gold coin would measure the actual value of goods at that place and time as accurately as its nature permits. But if wear and abrasion generally reduce forty-four guineas and a half to less than a pound weight of standard gold, and reduce some coins more than others, that measure of value becomes subject to the uncertainty common to all weights and measures. Since these rarely correspond exactly to their standards, merchants set the prices of their goods as best they can by what experience shows those weights and measures to be on average, rather than by what they ought to be. When coinage is similarly disordered, prices likewise come to reflect the amount of pure gold or silver the coins contain on average in practice, not the amount they ought to contain.
By the money price of goods, I should note, I always mean the quantity of pure gold or silver for which they sell, whatever the denomination of the coin. Thus I regard six shillings and eight pence in the time of Edward I. as the same money price as a pound sterling today, because, so far as we can judge, each contained the same quantity of pure silver.
Book I, Chapter VI, 1
18th-century English
OF THE COMPONENT PART OF THE PRICE OF COMMODITIES.
In that early and rude state of society which precedes both the accumulation of stock and the appropriation of land, the proportion between the quantities of labour necessary for acquiring different objects, seems to be the only circumstance which can afford any rule for exchanging them for one another. If among a nation of hunters, for example, it usually costs twice the labour to kill a beaver which it does to kill a deer, one beaver should naturally exchange for or be worth two deer. It is natural that what is usually the produce of two days or two hours labour, should be worth double of what is usually the produce of one day’s or one hour’s labour.
If the one species of labour should be more severe than the other, some allowance will naturally be made for this superior hardship; and the produce of one hour’s labour in the one way may frequently exchange for that of two hour’s labour in the other.
Or if the one species of labour requires an uncommon degree of dexterity and ingenuity, the esteem which men have for such talents, will naturally give a value to their produce, superior to what would be due to the time employed about it. Such talents can seldom be acquired but in consequence of long application, and the superior value of their produce may frequently be no more than a reasonable compensation for the time and labour which must be spent in acquiring them. In the advanced state of society, allowances of this kind, for superior hardship and superior skill, are commonly made in the wages of labour; and something of the same kind must probably have taken place in its earliest and rudest period.
In this state of things, the whole produce of labour belongs to the labourer; and the quantity of labour commonly employed in acquiring or producing any commodity, is the only circumstance which can regulate the quantity of labour which it ought commonly to purchase, command, or exchange for.
As soon as stock has accumulated in the hands of particular persons, some of them will naturally employ it in setting to work industrious people, whom they will supply with materials and subsistence, in order to make a profit by the sale of their work, or by what their labour adds to the value of the materials. In exchanging the complete manufacture either for money, for labour, or for other goods, over and above what may be sufficient to pay the price of the materials, and the wages of the workmen, something must be given for the profits of the undertaker of the work, who hazards his stock in this adventure. The value which the workmen add to the materials, therefore, resolves itself in this case into two parts, of which the one pays their wages, the other the profits of their employer upon the whole stock of materials and wages which he advanced. He could have no interest to employ them, unless he expected from the sale of their work something more than what was sufficient to replace his stock to him; and he could have no interest to employ a great stock rather than a small one, unless his profits were to bear some proportion to the extent of his stock.
The profits of stock, it may perhaps be thought, are only a different name for the wages of a particular sort of labour, the labour of inspection and direction. They are, however, altogether different, are regulated by quite different principles, and bear no proportion to the quantity, the hardship, or the ingenuity of this supposed labour of inspection and direction. They are regulated altogether by the value of the stock employed, and are greater or smaller in proportion to the extent of this stock. Let us suppose, for example, that in some particular place, where the common annual profits of manufacturing stock are ten per cent. there are two different manufactures, in each of which twenty workmen are employed, at the rate of fifteen pounds a year each, or at the expense of three hundred a-year in each manufactory. Let us suppose, too, that the coarse materials annually wrought up in the one cost only seven hundred pounds, while the finer materials in the other cost seven thousand. The capital annually employed in the one will, in this case, amount only to one thousand pounds; whereas that employed in the other will amount to seven thousand three hundred pounds. At the rate of ten per cent. therefore, the undertaker of the one will expect a yearly profit of about one hundred pounds only; while that of the other will expect about seven hundred and thirty pounds. But though their profits are so very different, their labour of inspection and direction may be either altogether or very nearly the same. In many great works, almost the whole labour of this kind is committed to some principal clerk. His wages properly express the value of this labour of inspection and direction. Though in settling them some regard is had commonly, not only to his labour and skill, but to the trust which is reposed in him, yet they never bear any regular proportion to the capital of which he oversees the management; and the owner of this capital, though he is thus discharged of almost all labour, still expects that his profit should bear a regular proportion to his capital. In the price of commodities, therefore, the profits of stock constitute a component part altogether different from the wages of labour, and regulated by quite different principles.
In this state of things, the whole produce of labour does not always belong to the labourer. He must in most cases share it with the owner of the stock which employs him. Neither is the quantity of labour commonly employed in acquiring or producing any commodity, the only circumstance which can regulate the quantity which it ought commonly to purchase, command or exchange for. An additional quantity, it is evident, must be due for the profits of the stock which advanced the wages and furnished the materials of that labour.
As soon as the land of any country has all become private property, the landlords, like all other men, love to reap where they never sowed, and demand a rent even for its natural produce. The wood of the forest, the grass of the field, and all the natural fruits of the earth, which, when land was in common, cost the labourer only the trouble of gathering them, come, even to him, to have an additional price fixed upon them. He must then pay for the licence to gather them, and must give up to the landlord a portion of what his labour either collects or produces. This portion, or, what comes to the same thing, the price of this portion, constitutes the rent of land, and in the price of the greater part of commodities, makes a third component part.
The real value of all the different component parts of price, it must be observed, is measured by the quantity of labour which they can, each of them, purchase or command. Labour measures the value, not only of that part of price which resolves itself into labour, but of that which resolves itself into rent, and of that which resolves itself into profit.
In every society, the price of every commodity finally resolves itself into some one or other, or all of those three parts; and in every improved society, all the three enter, more or less, as component parts, into the price of the far greater part of commodities.
In the price of corn, for example, one part pays the rent of the landlord, another pays the wages or maintenance of the labourers and labouring cattle employed in producing it, and the third pays the profit of the farmer. These three parts seem either immediately or ultimately to make up the whole price of corn. A fourth part, it may perhaps be thought is necessary for replacing the stock of the farmer, or for compensating the wear and tear of his labouring cattle, and other instruments of husbandry. But it must be considered, that the price of any instrument of husbandry, such as a labouring horse, is itself made up of the same time parts; the rent of the land upon which he is reared, the labour of tending and rearing him, and the profits of the farmer, who advances both the rent of this land, and the wages of this labour. Though the price of the corn, therefore, may pay the price as well as the maintenance of the horse, the whole price still resolves itself, either immediately or ultimately, into the same three parts of rent, labour, and profit.
English
Of the Component Part of the Price of Commodities.
In the early and undeveloped state of society, before stock has accumulated and land has become private property, the relative amounts of labor needed to acquire different things seem to provide the only rule for exchanging them. If, for example, hunters generally expend twice as much labor killing a beaver as killing a deer, a beaver should naturally exchange for two deer. What ordinarily takes two days or two hours of labor to produce should naturally be worth twice what takes one day or one hour.
If one kind of labor is harder than another, some allowance will naturally be made for the greater hardship; the product of one hour's work at the harder task may often exchange for the product of two hours at the other.
Or if one kind of labor calls for exceptional skill and ingenuity, people's esteem for those abilities will naturally give its product a value beyond what its hours alone would justify. Such abilities can rarely be gained without long practice, and the extra value of their product may often amount only to fair compensation for the time and labor spent acquiring them. In an advanced society, allowances for greater hardship and skill are commonly included in wages; something similar probably occurred even in society's earliest and least developed period.
Under these conditions the whole product of labor belongs to the laborer. The amount of labor commonly needed to acquire or produce a commodity is the only thing that can govern how much labor it should ordinarily purchase, command, or exchange for.
Once stock accumulates in the hands of particular people, some will naturally use it to employ industrious workers, providing their materials and subsistence in order to profit from the sale of their work, or from the value their labor adds to the materials. Whether the finished product is exchanged for money, labor, or other goods, its price must cover not only the materials and the workers' wages but something for the profit of the person who undertakes the work and risks stock on the venture. The value workers add to their materials thus divides into two parts: one pays their wages, the other pays their employer's profit on all the stock advanced for materials and wages. The employer would have no reason to hire them unless the sale of their work promised more than enough to replace that stock; nor would there be reason to employ a large stock instead of a small one unless profit bore some relation to its size.
It might be thought that the profits of stock are merely another name for the wages of a particular kind of labor: supervision and management. They are altogether different, however, governed by different principles and bearing no relation to the amount, hardship, or skill of this supposed labor. Profit depends entirely on the value of stock employed and grows or shrinks with that stock. Suppose, for example, that the ordinary annual profit on manufacturing stock in a certain place is ten per cent. and that two manufacturers each employ twenty workers at fifteen pounds a year, spending three hundred a-year on wages in each establishment. Suppose also that one spends only seven hundred pounds annually on coarse materials, while the other spends seven thousand on finer ones. The capital annually employed by the first is then only one thousand pounds, while the other's is seven thousand three hundred pounds. At ten per cent. the first entrepreneur expects an annual profit of about one hundred pounds, the second about seven hundred and thirty pounds. Yet their work of supervision and management may be exactly, or almost, the same. In many large works nearly all such labor is entrusted to a chief clerk. His wages properly express the value of supervising and managing. In setting those wages some account is usually taken not only of his work and skill but of the trust placed in him; still, they bear no regular proportion to the capital whose management he oversees. The owner, relieved of nearly all this labor, nevertheless expects profit in regular proportion to his capital. In the price of commodities, therefore, profits of stock form a component part quite distinct from wages of labor, governed by entirely different principles.
Under these conditions the whole product of labor does not always belong to the laborer: in most cases it must be shared with the owner of the stock that employs the worker. Nor is the labor ordinarily required to acquire or produce a commodity the only thing that governs how much labor it should ordinarily purchase, command, or exchange for. An additional amount must plainly be allowed for the profit on the stock that supplied the materials and advanced the wages.
Once all the land in a country has become private property, landlords, like other people, love to reap where they have not sown and demand rent even on what the land produces naturally. Forest wood, field grass, and all the earth's natural fruits once cost the worker, when land was held in common, nothing but the effort of gathering them. Now even that worker must pay an additional price: for permission to collect them, a share of what the labor collects or produces must be surrendered to the landlord. This share, or its price, is the rent of land, a third component in the price of most commodities.
It should be noted that the real value of each of these components of price is measured by the amount of labor it can purchase or command. Labor measures not only the value of the part going to labor, but also that going to rent and that going to profit.
In every society the price of every commodity ultimately resolves into one, another, or all three of these parts; and in every developed society all three enter, to some degree, into the price of the vast majority of commodities.
In the price of corn, for example, one part pays the landlord's rent, another the wages or maintenance of the laborers and working animals that produce it, and a third the farmer's profit. These three parts appear to make up the whole price of corn, either directly or ultimately. Perhaps a fourth seems necessary to replace the farmer's stock or compensate for wear on working animals and other farm implements. But the price of any such implement, a working horse for example, itself consists of the same three parts: rent for the land on which it was raised, labor spent tending and raising it, and profit for the farmer who advances the rent for that land and the wages for that labor. So although the price of corn may pay for both the purchase and the upkeep of the horse, the whole price still resolves, directly or ultimately, into the same three parts: rent, labor, and profit.
Book I, Chapter VI, 2
18th-century English
In the price of flour or meal, we must add to the price of the corn, the profits of the miller, and the wages of his servants; in the price of bread, the profits of the baker, and the wages of his servants; and in the price of both, the labour of transporting the corn from the house of the farmer to that of the miller, and from that of the miller to that of the baker, together with the profits of those who advance the wages of that labour.
The price of flax resolves itself into the same three parts as that of corn. In the price of linen we must add to this price the wages of the flax-dresser, of the spinner, of the weaver, of the bleacher, etc. together with the profits of their respective employers.
As any particular commodity comes to be more manufactured, that part of the price which resolves itself into wages and profit, comes to be greater in proportion to that which resolves itself into rent. In the progress of the manufacture, not only the number of profits increase, but every subsequent profit is greater than the foregoing; because the capital from which it is derived must always be greater. The capital which employs the weavers, for example, must be greater than that which employs the spinners; because it not only replaces that capital with its profits, but pays, besides, the wages of the weavers: and the profits must always bear some proportion to the capital.
In the most improved societies, however, there are always a few commodities of which the price resolves itself into two parts only: the wages of labour, and the profits of stock; and a still smaller number, in which it consists altogether in the wages of labour. In the price of sea-fish, for example, one part pays the labour of the fisherman, and the other the profits of the capital employed in the fishery. Rent very seldom makes any part of it, though it does sometimes, as I shall shew hereafter. It is otherwise, at least through the greater part of Europe, in river fisheries. A salmon fishery pays a rent; and rent, though it cannot well be called the rent of land, makes a part of the price of a salmon, as well as wares and profit. In some parts of Scotland, a few poor people make a trade of gathering, along the sea-shore, those little variegated stones commonly known by the name of Scotch pebbles. The price which is paid to them by the stone-cutter, is altogether the wages of their labour; neither rent nor profit makes any part of it.
But the whole price of any commodity must still finally resolve itself into some one or other or all of those three parts; as whatever part of it remains after paying the rent of the land, and the price of the whole labour employed in raising, manufacturing, and bringing it to market, must necessarily be profit to somebody.
As the price or exchangeable value of every particular commodity, taken separately, resolves itself into some one or other, or all of those three parts; so that of all the commodities which compose the whole annual produce of the labour of every country, taken complexly, must resolve itself into the same three parts, and be parcelled out among different inhabitants of the country, either as the wages of their labour, the profits of their stock, or the rent of their land. The whole of what is annually either collected or produced by the labour of every society, or, what comes to the same thing, the whole price of it, is in this manner originally distributed among some of its different members. Wages, profit, and rent, are the three original sources of all revenue, as well as of all exchangeable value. All other revenue is ultimately derived from some one or other of these.
Whoever derives his revenue from a fund which is his own, must draw it either from his labour, from his stock, or from his land. The revenue derived from labour is called wages; that derived from stock, by the person who manages or employs it, is called profit; that derived from it by the person who does not employ it himself, but lends it to another, is called the interest or the use of money. It is the compensation which the borrower pays to the lender, for the profit which he has an opportunity of making by the use of the money. Part of that profit naturally belongs to the borrower, who runs the risk and takes the trouble of employing it, and part to the lender, who affords him the opportunity of making this profit. The interest of money is always a derivative revenue, which, if it is not paid from the profit which is made by the use of the money, must be paid from some other source of revenue, unless perhaps the borrower is a spendthrift, who contracts a second debt in order to pay the interest of the first. The revenue which proceeds altogether from land, is called rent, and belongs to the landlord. The revenue of the farmer is derived partly from his labour, and partly from his stock. To him, land is only the instrument which enables him to earn the wages of this labour, and to make the profits of this stock. All taxes, and all the revenue which is founded upon them, all salaries, pensions, and annuities of every kind, are ultimately derived from some one or other of those three original sources of revenue, and are paid either immediately or mediately from the wages of labour, the profits of stock, or the rent of land.
When those three different sorts of revenue belong to different persons, they are readily distinguished; but when they belong to the same, they are sometimes confounded with one another, at least in common language.
A gentleman who farms a part of his own estate, after paying the expense of cultivation, should gain both the rent of the landlord and the profit of the farmer. He is apt to denominate, however, his whole gain, profit, and thus confounds rent with profit, at least in common language. The greater part of our North American and West Indian planters are in this situation. They farm, the greater part of them, their own estates: and accordingly we seldom hear of the rent of a plantation, but frequently of its profit.
Common farmers seldom employ any overseer to direct the general operations of the farm. They generally, too, work a good deal with their own hands, as ploughmen, harrowers, etc. What remains of the crop, after paying the rent, therefore, should not only replace to them their stock employed in cultivation, together with its ordinary profits, but pay them the wages which are due to them, both as labourers and overseers. Whatever remains, however, after paying the rent and keeping up the stock, is called profit. But wages evidently make a part of it. The farmer, by saving these wages, must necessarily gain them. Wages, therefore, are in this case confounded with profit.
An independent manufacturer, who has stock enough both to purchase materials, and to maintain himself till he can carry his work to market, should gain both the wages of a journeyman who works under a master, and the profit which that master makes by the sale of that journeyman’s work. His whole gains, however, are commonly called profit, and wages are, in this case, too, confounded with profit.
A gardener who cultivates his own garden with his own hands, unites in his own person the three different characters, of landlord, farmer, and labourer. His produce, therefore, should pay him the rent of the first, the profit of the second, and the wages of the third. The whole, however, is commonly considered as the earnings of his labour. Both rent and profit are, in this case, confounded with wages.
As in a civilized country there are but few commodities of which the exchangeable value arises from labour only, rent and profit contributing largely to that of the far greater part of them, so the annual produce of its labour will always be sufficient to purchase or command a much greater quantity of labour than what was employed in raising, preparing, and bringing that produce to market. If the society were annually to employ all the labour which it can annually purchase, as the quantity of labour would increase greatly every year, so the produce of every succeeding year would be of vastly greater value than that of the foregoing. But there is no country in which the whole annual produce is employed in maintaining the industrious. The idle everywhere consume a great part of it; and, according to the different proportions in which it is annually divided between those two different orders of people, its ordinary or average value must either annually increase or diminish, or continue the same from one year to another.
English
In the price of flour or meal, besides the price of corn we must count the miller's profit and the wages of his workers; in the price of bread, the baker's profit and the wages of his workers. In the price of both, we must also count the labor of carrying the corn from the farmer's house to the miller's, and from the miller's to the baker's, together with the profits of those who advance the wages for that labor.
The price of flax resolves into the same three parts as the price of corn. For linen, we must add to the price of flax the wages of the flax dresser, spinner, weaver, bleacher, etc., and the profits of their respective employers.
As a commodity passes through more stages of manufacture, the share of its price that goes to wages and profit grows relative to the share that goes to rent. As manufacture proceeds, not only do profits multiply, but each succeeding profit is greater than the last, because the capital yielding it must be greater. The capital employing weavers, for example, must be greater than that employing spinners, for it must replace the spinners' capital with its profits and pay the weavers' wages besides; and profits must always bear some relation to capital.
Even in the most developed societies, however, a few commodities have prices consisting of only two parts, wages of labor and profits of stock, and still fewer have prices consisting entirely of wages. In the price of sea fish, for instance, one part pays for the fisherman's labor and another for the profit on capital employed in fishing. Rent rarely enters the price, though sometimes it does, as I shall show later. River fisheries are different, at least across most of Europe. A salmon fishery pays rent, and rent, though it can hardly be called rent of land, enters the price of a salmon along with wages and profit. In some parts of Scotland a few poor people make their living gathering the small, many-colored stones known as Scotch pebbles along the seashore. The price a stonecutter pays them is entirely the wages of their labor; neither rent nor profit enters it.
But the whole price of any commodity must ultimately resolve into one, another, or all three of those parts. Whatever remains after paying rent for the land and the price of all labor spent raising, manufacturing, and bringing it to market must necessarily be someone's profit.
Just as the price or exchangeable value of each commodity, considered separately, resolves into one, another, or all three of these parts, so must the value of all the commodities that make up a country's entire annual product of labor, considered together. It must be distributed among the country's inhabitants as wages for their labor, profits on their stock, or rent for their land. Everything gathered or produced annually by a society's labor—or, equivalently, its entire price—is originally distributed in this way among some of its members. Wages, profit, and rent are the three original sources of all revenue as well as all exchangeable value. Every other kind of revenue ultimately derives from one of them.
Whoever derives revenue from resources of their own must draw it from labor, stock, or land. Revenue from labor is called wages; revenue from stock, when received by the person who manages or employs it, is profit; when received by someone who does not employ the stock but lends it to another, it is interest, or the use of money. This is what the borrower pays the lender for the opportunity to make a profit through the use of the money. Part of that profit naturally belongs to the borrower, who takes the risk and trouble of employing it, and part to the lender, who makes the profit possible. Interest on money is always derivative revenue: unless the borrower is a spendthrift who incurs a second debt to pay interest on the first, interest not paid from profits earned with the money must be paid from some other source of revenue. Revenue coming entirely from land is called rent and belongs to the landlord. A farmer's revenue comes partly from labor and partly from stock. For the farmer, land is merely the instrument that enables wages to be earned from that labor and profits to be made on that stock. All taxes and the revenues based on them, and all salaries, pensions, and annuities of every kind, ultimately derive from one or another of these three original sources of revenue. They are paid directly or indirectly from wages of labor, profits of stock, or rent of land.
When these three kinds of revenue belong to different people they are readily distinguished. When they belong to the same person, common speech at least sometimes confuses them.
A gentleman who farms part of his own estate should, after paying the costs of cultivation, receive both the landlord's rent and the farmer's profit. Yet he is apt to call all his earnings profit, thus confusing rent with profit, at least in ordinary speech. Most of our North American and West Indian planters are in this position: most farm their own estates. Accordingly, we rarely hear of a plantation's rent, but often of its profit.
Ordinary farmers rarely hire an overseer to manage the farm as a whole. They generally do a good deal of work with their own hands as plowmen, harrowers, etc. What remains of the crop after paying rent should therefore do more than replace the stock they invested in cultivation and provide its ordinary profits: it should also pay them wages for working as laborers and overseers. Yet whatever remains after rent has been paid and stock maintained is called profit. Clearly wages are part of it. By saving the wages they would otherwise pay, the farmers necessarily earn them. Here, then, wages are confused with profit.
An independent manufacturer with enough stock to buy materials and support himself until his work can be taken to market should earn both the wages of a journeyman employed by a master and the profit that master would make from selling the journeyman's work. Yet his entire earnings are usually called profit; here too wages are confused with profit.
A gardener who cultivates his own garden with his own hands combines in one person the three roles of landlord, farmer, and laborer. His produce should therefore pay him rent in the first role, profit in the second, and wages in the third. Yet the whole is commonly treated as earnings from his labor. In this case both rent and profit are confused with wages.
In a civilized country few commodities derive their exchangeable value from labor alone; rent and profit contribute greatly to the value of most. Its annual product of labor will therefore always be able to purchase or command far more labor than was employed to raise, prepare, and bring that product to market. If society annually employed all the labor its annual product could purchase, the quantity of labor would grow greatly each year, and the product of each succeeding year would be worth vastly more than the preceding year's. But no country employs its whole annual product to support the industrious. The idle everywhere consume a large share of it; and according to the proportions in which it is divided each year between these two groups, its ordinary or average value must rise, fall, or remain unchanged from year to year.
Book I, Chapter VII, 1
18th-century English
OF THE NATURAL AND MARKET PRICE OF COMMODITIES.
There is in every society or neighbourhood an ordinary or average rate, both of wages and profit, in every different employment of labour and stock. This rate is naturally regulated, as I shall shew hereafter, partly by the general circumstances of the society, their riches or poverty, their advancing, stationary, or declining condition, and partly by the particular nature of each employment.
There is likewise in every society or neighbourhood an ordinary or average rate of rent, which is regulated, too, as I shall shew hereafter, partly by the general circumstances of the society or neighbourhood in which the land is situated, and partly by the natural or improved fertility of the land.
These ordinary or average rates may be called the natural rates of wages, profit and rent, at the time and place in which they commonly prevail.
When the price of any commodity is neither more nor less than what is sufficient to pay the rent of the land, the wages of the labour, and the profits of the stock employed in raising, preparing, and bringing it to market, according to their natural rates, the commodity is then sold for what may be called its natural price.
The commodity is then sold precisely for what it is worth, or for what it really costs the person who brings it to market; for though, in common language, what is called the prime cost of any commodity does not comprehend the profit of the person who is to sell it again, yet, if he sells it at a price which does not allow him the ordinary rate of profit in his neighbourhood, he is evidently a loser by the trade; since, by employing his stock in some other way, he might have made that profit. His profit, besides, is his revenue, the proper fund of his subsistence. As, while he is preparing and bringing the goods to market, he advances to his workmen their wages, or their subsistence; so he advances to himself, in the same manner, his own subsistence, which is generally suitable to the profit which he may reasonably expect from the sale of his goods. Unless they yield him this profit, therefore, they do not repay him what they may very properly be said to have really cost him.
Though the price, therefore, which leaves him this profit, is not always the lowest at which a dealer may sometimes sell his goods, it is the lowest at which he is likely to sell them for any considerable time; at least where there is perfect liberty, or where he may change his trade as often as he pleases.
The actual price at which any commodity is commonly sold, is called its market price. It may either be above, or below, or exactly the same with its natural price.
The market price of every particular commodity is regulated by the proportion between the quantity which is actually brought to market, and the demand of those who are willing to pay the natural price of the commodity, or the whole value of the rent, labour, and profit, which must be paid in order to bring it thither. Such people may be called the effectual demanders, and their demand the effectual demand; since it maybe sufficient to effectuate the bringing of the commodity to market. It is different from the absolute demand. A very poor man may be said, in some sense, to have a demand for a coach and six; he might like to have it; but his demand is not an effectual demand, as the commodity can never be brought to market in order to satisfy it.
When the quantity of any commodity which is brought to market falls short of the effectual demand, all those who are willing to pay the whole value of the rent, wages, and profit, which must be paid in order to bring it thither, cannot be supplied with the quantity which they want. Rather than want it altogether, some of them will be willing to give more. A competition will immediately begin among them, and the market price will rise more or less above the natural price, according as either the greatness of the deficiency, or the wealth and wanton luxury of the competitors, happen to animate more or less the eagerness of the competition. Among competitors of equal wealth and luxury, the same deficiency will generally occasion a more or less eager competition, according as the acquisition of the commodity happens to be of more or less importance to them. Hence the exorbitant price of the necessaries of life during the blockade of a town, or in a famine.
When the quantity brought to market exceeds the effectual demand, it cannot be all sold to those who are willing to pay the whole value of the rent, wages, and profit, which must be paid in order to bring it thither. Some part must be sold to those who are willing to pay less, and the low price which they give for it must reduce the price of the whole. The market price will sink more or less below the natural price, according as the greatness of the excess increases more or less the competition of the sellers, or according as it happens to be more or less important to them to get immediately rid of the commodity. The same excess in the importation of perishable, will occasion a much greater competition than in that of durable commodities; in the importation of oranges, for example, than in that of old iron.
When the quantity brought to market is just sufficient to supply the effectual demand, and no more, the market price naturally comes to be either exactly, or as nearly as can be judged of, the same with the natural price. The whole quantity upon hand can be disposed of for this price, and can not be disposed of for more. The competition of the different dealers obliges them all to accept of this price, but does not oblige them to accept of less.
The quantity of every commodity brought to market naturally suits itself to the effectual demand. It is the interest of all those who employ their land, labour, or stock, in bringing any commodity to market, that the quantity never should exceed the effectual demand; and it is the interest of all other people that it never should fall short of that demand.
If at any time it exceeds the effectual demand, some of the component parts of its price must be paid below their natural rate. If it is rent, the interest of the landlords will immediately prompt them to withdraw a part of their land; and if it is wages or profit, the interest of the labourers in the one case, and of their employers in the other, will prompt them to withdraw a part of their labour or stock, from this employment. The quantity brought to market will soon be no more than sufficient to supply the effectual demand. All the different parts of its price will rise to their natural rate, and the whole price to its natural price.
If, on the contrary, the quantity brought to market should at any time fall short of the effectual demand, some of the component parts of its price must rise above their natural rate. If it is rent, the interest of all other landlords will naturally prompt them to prepare more land for the raising of this commodity; if it is wages or profit, the interest of all other labourers and dealers will soon prompt them to employ more labour and stock in preparing and bringing it to market. The quantity brought thither will soon be sufficient to supply the effectual demand. All the different parts of its price will soon sink to their natural rate, and the whole price to its natural price.
The natural price, therefore, is, as it were, the central price, to which the prices of all commodities are continually gravitating. Different accidents may sometimes keep them suspended a good deal above it, and sometimes force them down even somewhat below it. But whatever may be the obstacles which hinder them from settling in this centre of repose and continuance, they are constantly tending towards it.
The whole quantity of industry annually employed in order to bring any commodity to market, naturally suits itself in this manner to the effectual demand. It naturally aims at bringing always that precise quantity thither which may be sufficient to supply, and no more than supply, that demand.
But, in some employments, the same quantity of industry will, in different years, produce very different quantities of commodities; while, in others, it will produce always the same, or very nearly the same. The same number of labourers in husbandry will, in different years, produce very different quantities of corn, wine, oil, hops, etc. But the same number of spinners or weavers will every year produce the same, or very nearly the same, quantity of linen and woollen cloth. It is only the average produce of the one species of industry which can be suited, in any respect, to the effectual demand; and as its actual produce is frequently much greater, and frequently much less, than its average produce, the quantity of the commodities brought to market will sometimes exceed a good deal, and sometimes fall short a good deal, of the effectual demand. Even though that demand, therefore, should continue always the same, their market price will be liable to great fluctuations, will sometimes fall a good deal below, and sometimes rise a good deal above, their natural price. In the other species of industry, the produce of equal quantities of labour being always the same, or very nearly the same, it can be more exactly suited to the effectual demand. While that demand continues the same, therefore, the market price of the commodities is likely to do so too, and to be either altogether, or as nearly as can be judged of, the same with the natural price. That the price of linen and woollen cloth is liable neither to such frequent, nor to such great variations, as the price of corn, every man’s experience will inform him. The price of the one species of commodities varies only with the variations in the demand; that of the other varies not only with the variations in the demand, but with the much greater, and more frequent, variations in the quantity of what is brought to market, in order to supply that demand.
English
Of the Natural and Market Price of Commodities.
In every society or neighborhood there is an ordinary or average rate of both wages and profit for each kind of employment of labor and stock. As I shall show later, this rate is governed partly by the society's general circumstances—its wealth or poverty, whether it is advancing, standing still, or declining—and partly by the particular nature of each employment.
Every society or neighborhood likewise has an ordinary or average rate of rent. This too, as I shall show later, is governed partly by the general circumstances of the society or neighborhood where the land lies, and partly by the land's natural or improved fertility.
These ordinary or average rates may be called the natural rates of wages, profit, and rent at the time and place where they prevail.
When a commodity's price is just enough to pay, at their natural rates, the rent of the land, the wages of the labor, and the profits on the stock used to raise, prepare, and bring it to market, the commodity is sold at what may be called its natural price.
It is then sold for precisely what it is worth, or what it really costs the person bringing it to market. In ordinary language, the prime cost of a commodity does not include the profit of a person who buys it for resale. Yet if that person sells for a price that does not allow the ordinary local rate of profit, the trade plainly brings a loss, since the same stock could have earned that profit elsewhere. Moreover, profit is that person's revenue, the proper fund for subsistence. Just as the seller advances wages or subsistence to workers while preparing and bringing goods to market, so too the seller advances a personal subsistence, generally suited to the profit reasonably expected on the sale. Unless the goods yield that profit, they fail to repay what may properly be called their real cost.
Thus a price that leaves this profit is not necessarily the lowest at which a dealer might ever sell goods, but it is the lowest at which they are likely to be sold for any considerable length of time, at least where there is complete freedom to change trades as often as one wishes.
The actual price at which a commodity ordinarily sells is called its market price. It may stand above, below, or exactly at its natural price.
The market price of any commodity is governed by the ratio of the quantity actually brought to market to the demand of those willing to pay its natural price: the whole value of the rent, labor, and profit necessary to bring it there. Such buyers may be called effectual demanders, and their demand effectual demand, since it may suffice to bring the commodity to market. This differs from absolute demand. In a sense a very poor person might demand a coach and six, and might like to have it. But this is not effectual demand: no such commodity can be brought to market to satisfy it.
When the quantity brought to market falls short of effectual demand, not everyone willing to pay the full value of the rent, wages, and profit necessary to bring it there can obtain as much as desired. Rather than go without entirely, some will offer more. Competition immediately arises among them, raising the market price above the natural price by an amount that depends both on the size of the shortage and on how strongly the wealth and extravagant luxury of the competitors spur their eagerness. Among competitors of equal wealth and luxury, a given shortage will provoke fiercer or weaker competition according to how important acquiring the commodity is to them. Hence the exorbitant prices of necessities during a town's blockade or a famine.
When the quantity brought to market exceeds effectual demand, it cannot all be sold to buyers willing to pay the full value of the rent, wages, and profit necessary to bring it there. Some must be sold to people willing to pay less, and the low price they pay must lower the price of all of it. The market price falls further or less far below the natural price depending on how much the excess intensifies competition among sellers, or on how urgently they need to dispose of the commodity. The same excess of perishable imports produces much fiercer competition than an excess of durable imports: oranges, for example, provoke more competition than old iron.
When the quantity brought to market is just sufficient to meet effectual demand and no more, the market price naturally equals the natural price, or comes as close to it as can be judged. All the stock on hand can be sold at this price, but not for more. Competition among dealers compels them all to accept it, but does not compel them to accept less.
The quantity of each commodity brought to market naturally adjusts to effectual demand. Everyone who uses land, labor, or stock to bring a commodity to market has an interest in keeping that quantity from exceeding effectual demand; everyone else has an interest in keeping it from falling short.
If the quantity at any time exceeds effectual demand, one or more components of its price must be paid below their natural rates. If rent is reduced, landlords' interest will immediately prompt them to withdraw some land. If wages or profit are reduced, the interest of laborers or their employers, respectively, will prompt them to withdraw some labor or stock from that employment. Soon the quantity brought to market will be no more than enough to meet effectual demand. Each component of price will rise to its natural rate, and the whole price to its natural price.
If, on the other hand, the quantity brought to market falls short of effectual demand, one or more components of its price must rise above their natural rates. If rent rises, other landlords will naturally be prompted to prepare more land to grow the commodity. If wages or profit rise, other laborers and dealers will soon be prompted to employ more labor and stock in preparing and bringing it to market. Soon the quantity arriving there will be sufficient to meet effectual demand. Each component of price will fall to its natural rate, and the whole price to its natural price.
Natural price, then, is something like the center of gravity toward which the prices of all commodities continually move. Accidents may sometimes hold them far above it, and sometimes drive them somewhat below it. Yet whatever obstacles prevent them from settling at this point of rest and persistence, they always tend toward it.
In this way, all the industry annually employed to bring a commodity to market naturally adjusts to effectual demand. It naturally aims to bring just enough of the commodity to meet that demand, and no more.
But in some employments the same quantity of industry yields very different quantities of goods from year to year; in others it always yields the same quantity, or nearly so. The same number of farm laborers will produce very different quantities of corn, wine, oil, hops, etc., in different years. The same number of spinners or weavers, however, will produce the same or almost the same amount of linen and woolen cloth each year. Only the average output of the first kind of industry can be adjusted in any measure to effectual demand. Because its actual output is often much greater or much less than the average, the amount brought to market will sometimes considerably exceed and sometimes considerably fall short of effectual demand. Even if demand remains unchanged, therefore, the market price of such goods will fluctuate greatly, sometimes falling well below and sometimes rising well above their natural price. In the other kind of industry, equal amounts of labor yield the same or nearly the same output, which can therefore be matched more exactly to effectual demand. While demand remains the same, the market price of these goods is likely to remain the same too, exactly or as nearly as can be judged equal to their natural price. Everyone's experience shows that the price of linen and woolen cloth fluctuates less often and less sharply than the price of corn. The price of the former varies only as demand varies; the price of the latter varies not only with demand but with the much greater and more frequent changes in the supply brought to market to meet it.
Book I, Chapter VII, 2
18th-century English
The occasional and temporary fluctuations in the market price of any commodity fall chiefly upon those parts of its price which resolve themselves into wages and profit. That part which resolves itself into rent is less affected by them. A rent certain in money is not in the least affected by them, either in its rate or in its value. A rent which consists either in a certain proportion, or in a certain quantity, of the rude produce, is no doubt affected in its yearly value by all the occasional and temporary fluctuations in the market price of that rude produce; but it is seldom affected by them in its yearly rate. In settling the terms of the lease, the landlord and farmer endeavour, according to their best judgment, to adjust that rate, not to the temporary and occasional, but to the average and ordinary price of the produce.
Such fluctuations affect both the value and the rate, either of wages or of profit, according as the market happens to be either overstocked or understocked with commodities or with labour, with work done, or with work to be done. A public mourning raises the price of black cloth (with which the market is almost always understocked upon such occasions), and augments the profits of the merchants who possess any considerable quantity of it. It has no effect upon the wages of the weavers. The market is understocked with commodities, not with labour, with work done, not with work to be done. It raises the wages of journeymen tailors. The market is here understocked with labour. There is an effectual demand for more labour, for more work to be done, than can be had. It sinks the price of coloured silks and cloths, and thereby reduces the profits of the merchants who have any considerable quantity of them upon hand. It sinks, too, the wages of the workmen employed in preparing such commodities, for which all demand is stopped for six months, perhaps for a twelvemonth. The market is here overstocked both with commodities and with labour.
But though the market price of every particular commodity is in this manner continually gravitating, if one may say so, towards the natural price; yet sometimes particular accidents, sometimes natural causes, and sometimes particular regulations of policy, may, in many commodities, keep up the market price, for a long time together, a good deal above the natural price.
When, by an increase in the effectual demand, the market price of some particular commodity happens to rise a good deal above the natural price, those who employ their stocks in supplying that market, are generally careful to conceal this change. If it was commonly known, their great profit would tempt so many new rivals to employ their stocks in the same way, that, the effectual demand being fully supplied, the market price would soon be reduced to the natural price, and, perhaps, for some time even below it. If the market is at a great distance from the residence of those who supply it, they may sometimes be able to keep the secret for several years together, and may so long enjoy their extraordinary profits without any new rivals. Secrets of this kind, however, it must be acknowledged, can seldom be long kept; and the extraordinary profit can last very little longer than they are kept.
Secrets in manufactures are capable of being longer kept than secrets in trade. A dyer who has found the means of producing a particular colour with materials which cost only half the price of those commonly made use of, may, with good management, enjoy the advantage of his discovery as long as he lives, and even leave it as a legacy to his posterity. His extraordinary gains arise from the high price which is paid for his private labour. They properly consist in the high wages of that labour. But as they are repeated upon every part of his stock, and as their whole amount bears, upon that account, a regular proportion to it, they are commonly considered as extraordinary profits of stock.
Such enhancements of the market price are evidently the effects of particular accidents, of which, however, the operation may sometimes last for many years together.
Some natural productions require such a singularity of soil and situation, that all the land in a great country, which is fit for producing them, may not be sufficient to supply the effectual demand. The whole quantity brought to market, therefore, may be disposed of to those who are willing to give more than what is sufficient to pay the rent of the land which produced them, together with the wages of the labour and the profits of the stock which were employed in preparing and bringing them to market, according to their natural rates. Such commodities may continue for whole centuries together to be sold at this high price; and that part of it which resolves itself into the rent of land, is in this case the part which is generally paid above its natural rate. The rent of the land which affords such singular and esteemed productions, like the rent of some vineyards in France of a peculiarly happy soil and situation, bears no regular proportion to the rent of other equally fertile and equally well cultivated land in its neighbourhood. The wages of the labour, and the profits of the stock employed in bringing such commodities to market, on the contrary, are seldom out of their natural proportion to those of the other employments of labour and stock in their neighbourhood.
Such enhancements of the market price are evidently the effect of natural causes, which may hinder the effectual demand from ever being fully supplied, and which may continue, therefore, to operate for ever.
A monopoly granted either to an individual or to a trading company, has the same effect as a secret in trade or manufactures. The monopolists, by keeping the market constantly understocked by never fully supplying the effectual demand, sell their commodities much above the natural price, and raise their emoluments, whether they consist in wages or profit, greatly above their natural rate.
The price of monopoly is upon every occasion the highest which can be got. The natural price, or the price of free competition, on the contrary, is the lowest which can be taken, not upon every occasion indeed, but for any considerable time together. The one is upon every occasion the highest which can be squeezed out of the buyers, or which it is supposed they will consent to give; the other is the lowest which the sellers can commonly afford to take, and at the same time continue their business.
The exclusive privileges of corporations, statutes of apprenticeship, and all those laws which restrain in particular employments, the competition to a smaller number than might otherwise go into them, have the same tendency, though in a less degree. They are a sort of enlarged monopolies, and may frequently, for ages together, and in whole classes of employments, keep up the market price of particular commodities above the natural price, and maintain both the wages of the labour and the profits of the stock employed about them somewhat above their natural rate.
Such enhancements of the market price may last as long as the regulations of policy which give occasion to them.
The market price of any particular commodity, though it may continue long above, can seldom continue long below, its natural price. Whatever part of it was paid below the natural rate, the persons whose interest it affected would immediately feel the loss, and would immediately withdraw either so much land or so much labour, or so much stock, from being employed about it, that the quantity brought to market would soon be no more than sufficient to supply the effectual demand. Its market price, therefore, would soon rise to the natural price; this at least would be the case where there was perfect liberty.
The same statutes of apprenticeship and other corporation laws, indeed, which, when a manufacture is in prosperity, enable the workman to raise his wages a good deal above their natural rate, sometimes oblige him, when it decays, to let them down a good deal below it. As in the one case they exclude many people from his employment, so in the other they exclude him from many employments. The effect of such regulations, however, is not near so durable in sinking the workman’s wages below, as in raising them above their natural rate. Their operation in the one way may endure for many centuries, but in the other it can last no longer than the lives of some of the workmen who were bred to the business in the time of its prosperity. When they are gone, the number of those who are afterwards educated to the trade will naturally suit itself to the effectual demand. The policy must be as violent as that of Indostan or ancient Egypt (where every man was bound by a principle of religion to follow the occupation of his father, and was supposed to commit the most horrid sacrilege if he changed it for another), which can in any particular employment, and for several generations together, sink either the wages of labour or the profits of stock below their natural rate.
This is all that I think necessary to be observed at present concerning the deviations, whether occasional or permanent, of the market price of commodities from the natural price.
The natural price itself varies with the natural rate of each of its component parts, of wages, profit, and rent; and in every society this rate varies according to their circumstances, according to their riches or poverty, their advancing, stationary, or declining condition. I shall, in the four following chapters, endeavour to explain, as fully and distinctly as I can, the causes of those different variations.
First, I shall endeavour to explain what are the circumstances which naturally determine the rate of wages, and in what manner those circumstances are affected by the riches or poverty, by the advancing, stationary, or declining state of the society.
Secondly, I shall endeavour to shew what are the circumstances which naturally determine the rate of profit; and in what manner, too, those circumstances are affected by the like variations in the state of the society.
Though pecuniary wages and profit are very different in the different employments of labour and stock; yet a certain proportion seems commonly to take place between both the pecuniary wages in all the different employments of labour, and the pecuniary profits in all the different employments of stock. This proportion, it will appear hereafter, depends partly upon the nature of the different employments, and partly upon the different laws and policy of the society in which they are carried on. But though in many respects dependent upon the laws and policy, this proportion seems to be little affected by the riches or poverty of that society, by its advancing, stationary, or declining condition, but to remain the same, or very nearly the same, in all those different states. I shall, in the third place, endeavour to explain all the different circumstances which regulate this proportion.
In the fourth and last place, I shall endeavour to shew what are the circumstances which regulate the rent of land, and which either raise or lower the real price of all the different substances which it produces.
English
Occasional and temporary fluctuations in the market price of a commodity fall chiefly on the parts of its price that resolve into wages and profit. The part that resolves into rent is less affected. A rent fixed in money is not affected at all, either in its rate or its value. A rent consisting of a fixed proportion or quantity of the raw produce is certainly affected in its annual value by every occasional and temporary fluctuation in the market price of that produce; but its annual rate is seldom affected. In settling a lease, landlord and farmer try, as best they can, to set that rate by the average and ordinary price of the produce, not by its temporary and occasional price.
Such fluctuations affect both the value and the rate of wages or profit, according to whether the market is overstocked or understocked with commodities or labor, with work already done or work still to be done. Public mourning raises the price of black cloth (of which the market is almost always short on such occasions) and increases the profits of merchants who hold a considerable quantity of it. It does not affect weavers’ wages. The shortage is of commodities, not labor; of finished work, not work yet to be done. But it raises journeymen tailors’ wages: here the market is short of labor. There is an effectual demand for more labor, more work to be done, than can be supplied. Mourning lowers the price of colored silks and cloths, and thus reduces the profits of merchants who hold a considerable quantity of them. It also lowers the wages of workers who prepare such goods, for which demand stops for six months, perhaps for a twelvemonth. In this case the market is overstocked with both commodities and labor.
Although the market price of each commodity is thus continually gravitating, so to speak, toward its natural price, particular accidents, natural causes, or particular regulations of policy can sometimes keep the market price of many commodities considerably above the natural price for a long time.
When an increase in effectual demand raises the market price of a particular commodity considerably above its natural price, those who employ their stocks to supply that market generally take care to conceal the change. If it became widely known, their large profit would tempt so many new rivals to employ their stocks in the same way that the effectual demand would soon be fully supplied, bringing the market price down to its natural price and perhaps, for a time, even below it. If the market lies far from the homes of its suppliers, they may sometimes keep the secret for several years, enjoying their extraordinary profits all that time without new rivals. Yet secrets of this kind, it must be admitted, can seldom be kept long; and the extraordinary profit can last little longer than the secrecy.
Secrets in manufacture can be kept longer than secrets in trade. A dyer who discovers how to produce a particular color with materials costing only half as much as those ordinarily used may, with good management, enjoy the advantage of his discovery throughout his life and even bequeath it to his descendants. His extraordinary gains arise from the high price paid for his own labor; strictly speaking, they are high wages for that labor. But because these gains recur on every part of his stock, and their total consequently bears a regular proportion to it, they are commonly regarded as extraordinary profits of stock.
Such increases in the market price are plainly the effects of particular accidents, though their influence may sometimes last for many years.
Some natural products require such a peculiar soil and situation that all the land suited to producing them in a great country may be insufficient to supply the effectual demand. The whole quantity brought to market may therefore be sold to buyers willing to pay more than is needed to cover, at their natural rates, the rent of the land that produced them, the wages of the labor, and the profits of the stock employed in preparing and bringing them to market. Such commodities may sell at this high price for whole centuries; in this case it is the portion of the price that resolves into land rent that is generally paid above its natural rate. The rent of land yielding such rare and valued products, like the rent of certain vineyards in France exceptionally favored by soil and situation, bears no regular proportion to the rent of equally fertile and equally well-cultivated neighboring land. By contrast, the wages of the labor and the profits of the stock employed to bring these goods to market seldom depart from their natural proportion to wages and profits in other local employments of labor and stock.
Such increases in the market price are plainly the effects of natural causes that may prevent the effectual demand from ever being fully supplied, and may therefore continue to operate forever.
A monopoly granted to an individual or a trading company has the same effect as a secret in trade or manufacture. By constantly keeping the market undersupplied, never fully meeting effectual demand, monopolists sell their commodities far above the natural price and raise their earnings, whether wages or profit, far above their natural rate.
The monopoly price is on every occasion the highest obtainable. The natural price, or price under free competition, by contrast, is the lowest that can be accepted—not on every occasion, certainly, but over any considerable stretch of time. The first is always the most that can be wrung from buyers, or that they are thought willing to pay; the second is the least that sellers can ordinarily accept and still remain in business.
The exclusive privileges of corporations, statutes of apprenticeship, and all laws that restrict competition in particular employments to fewer people than would otherwise enter them have the same tendency, though to a lesser degree. They are a kind of extended monopoly and may often, for ages and across entire classes of employments, hold the market price of particular commodities above its natural price, and maintain both labor’s wages and the profits of the stock employed in them somewhat above their natural rates.
Such increases in the market price can last as long as the policies that produce them.
The market price of a particular commodity, though it may stay above its natural price for a long time, can seldom stay below it for long. Whichever part of the price fell below its natural rate, those whose interests suffered would immediately feel the loss and withdraw enough land, labor, or stock from that employment to bring the quantity offered on the market down to what was just sufficient to supply effectual demand. Its market price would therefore soon rise to its natural price; at least this would happen under perfect liberty.
Indeed, the same apprenticeship statutes and other corporation laws that allow a worker in a thriving manufacture to raise his wages considerably above their natural rate sometimes compel him, when it declines, to accept wages considerably below it. As they bar many people from his employment in the first case, so they bar him from many employments in the second. Yet these regulations have a much less lasting effect in depressing wages below their natural rate than in raising them above it. Their operation in one direction may endure for many centuries; in the other it cannot outlast the lives of some of the workers trained in the business during its prosperity. When they are gone, the number subsequently trained for the trade will naturally adjust to effectual demand. Only a policy as severe as that of Indostan or ancient Egypt—where religion bound every man to his father’s occupation, and changing it was thought the most dreadful sacrilege—could hold either wages of labor or profits of stock below their natural rate in a particular employment for several generations.
This is all I think it necessary to say for now about the occasional or lasting deviations of commodities’ market prices from their natural prices.
The natural price itself varies with the natural rate of each of its components—wages, profit, and rent—and in every society these rates vary with its circumstances: its wealth or poverty, its advancing, stationary, or declining condition. In the four chapters that follow, I shall try to explain as fully and clearly as I can the causes of these variations.
First, I shall try to explain the circumstances that naturally determine the rate of wages and how those circumstances are affected by a society’s wealth or poverty, and by its advancing, stationary, or declining condition.
Second, I shall try to show the circumstances that naturally determine the rate of profit, and how those circumstances too are affected by similar changes in a society’s condition.
Although money wages and profits differ greatly among the various employments of labor and stock, a certain proportion commonly seems to hold both among money wages in all the different employments of labor and among money profits in all the different employments of stock. As will appear later, this proportion depends partly on the nature of the different employments and partly on the laws and policies of the society in which they are pursued. Yet, though dependent in many respects on those laws and policies, it seems little affected by the society’s wealth or poverty or by its advancing, stationary, or declining condition, remaining the same, or nearly so, in all those states. Third, then, I shall try to explain all the different circumstances that govern this proportion.
Fourth and last, I shall try to show the circumstances that govern land rent and either raise or lower the real price of all the different substances the land produces.
Book I, Chapter VIII, 1
18th-century English
OF THE WAGES OF LABOUR.
The produce of labour constitutes the natural recompence or wages of labour. In that original state of things which precedes both the appropriation of land and the accumulation of stock, the whole produce of labour belongs to the labourer. He has neither landlord nor master to share with him.
Had this state continued, the wages of labour would have augmented with all those improvements in its productive powers, to which the division of labour gives occasion. All things would gradually have become cheaper. They would have been produced by a smaller quantity of labour; and as the commodities produced by equal quantities of labour would naturally in this state of things be exchanged for one another, they would have been purchased likewise with the produce of a smaller quantity.
But though all things would have become cheaper in reality, in appearance many things might have become dearer, than before, or have been exchanged for a greater quantity of other goods. Let us suppose, for example, that in the greater part of employments the productive powers of labour had been improved to tenfold, or that a day’s labour could produce ten times the quantity of work which it had done originally; but that in a particular employment they had been improved only to double, or that a day’s labour could produce only twice the quantity of work which it had done before. In exchanging the produce of a day’s labour in the greater part of employments for that of a day’s labour in this particular one, ten times the original quantity of work in them would purchase only twice the original quantity in it. Any particular quantity in it, therefore, a pound weight, for example, would appear to be five times dearer than before. In reality, however, it would be twice as cheap. Though it required five times the quantity of other goods to purchase it, it would require only half the quantity of labour either to purchase or to produce it. The acquisition, therefore, would be twice as easy as before.
But this original state of things, in which the labourer enjoyed the whole produce of his own labour, could not last beyond the first introduction of the appropriation of land and the accumulation of stock. It was at an end, therefore, long before the most considerable improvements were made in the productive powers of labour; and it would be to no purpose to trace further what might have been its effects upon the recompence or wages of labour.
As soon as land becomes private property, the landlord demands a share of almost all the produce which the labourer can either raise or collect from it. His rent makes the first deduction from the produce of the labour which is employed upon land.
It seldom happens that the person who tills the ground has wherewithal to maintain himself till he reaps the harvest. His maintenance is generally advanced to him from the stock of a master, the farmer who employs him, and who would have no interest to employ him, unless he was to share in the produce of his labour, or unless his stock was to be replaced to him with a profit. This profit makes a second deduction from the produce of the labour which is employed upon land.
The produce of almost all other labour is liable to the like deduction of profit. In all arts and manufactures, the greater part of the workmen stand in need of a master, to advance them the materials of their work, and their wages and maintenance, till it be completed. He shares in the produce of their labour, or in the value which it adds to the materials upon which it is bestowed; and in this share consists his profit.
It sometimes happens, indeed, that a single independent workman has stock sufficient both to purchase the materials of his work, and to maintain himself till it be completed. He is both master and workman, and enjoys the whole produce of his own labour, or the whole value which it adds to the materials upon which it is bestowed. It includes what are usually two distinct revenues, belonging to two distinct persons, the profits of stock, and the wages of labour.
Such cases, however, are not very frequent; and in every part of Europe twenty workmen serve under a master for one that is independent, and the wages of labour are everywhere understood to be, what they usually are, when the labourer is one person, and the owner of the stock which employs him another.
What are the common wages of labour, depends everywhere upon the contract usually made between those two parties, whose interests are by no means the same. The workmen desire to get as much, the masters to give as little, as possible. The former are disposed to combine in order to raise, the latter in order to lower, the wages of labour.
It is not, however, difficult to foresee which of the two parties must, upon all ordinary occasions, have the advantage in the dispute, and force the other into a compliance with their terms. The masters, being fewer in number, can combine much more easily: and the law, besides, authorises, or at least does not prohibit, their combinations, while it prohibits those of the workmen. We have no acts of parliament against combining to lower the price of work, but many against combining to raise it. In all such disputes, the masters can hold out much longer. A landlord, a farmer, a master manufacturer, or merchant, though they did not employ a single workman, could generally live a year or two upon the stocks, which they have already acquired. Many workmen could not subsist a week, few could subsist a month, and scarce any a year, without employment. In the long run, the workman may be as necessary to his master as his master is to him; but the necessity is not so immediate.
We rarely hear, it has been said, of the combinations of masters, though frequently of those of workmen. But whoever imagines, upon this account, that masters rarely combine, is as ignorant of the world as of the subject. Masters are always and everywhere in a sort of tacit, but constant and uniform, combination, not to raise the wages of labour above their actual rate. To violate this combination is everywhere a most unpopular action, and a sort of reproach to a master among his neighbours and equals. We seldom, indeed, hear of this combination, because it is the usual, and, one may say, the natural state of things, which nobody ever hears of. Masters, too, sometimes enter into particular combinations to sink the wages of labour even below this rate. These are always conducted with the utmost silence and secrecy till the moment of execution; and when the workmen yield, as they sometimes do without resistance, though severely felt by them, they are never heard of by other people. Such combinations, however, are frequently resisted by a contrary defensive combination of the workmen, who sometimes, too, without any provocation of this kind, combine, of their own accord, to raise the price of their labour. Their usual pretences are, sometimes the high price of provisions, sometimes the great profit which their masters make by their work. But whether their combinations be offensive or defensive, they are always abundantly heard of. In order to bring the point to a speedy decision, they have always recourse to the loudest clamour, and sometimes to the most shocking violence and outrage. They are desperate, and act with the folly and extravagance of desperate men, who must either starve, or frighten their masters into an immediate compliance with their demands. The masters, upon these occasions, are just as clamorous upon the other side, and never cease to call aloud for the assistance of the civil magistrate, and the rigorous execution of those laws which have been enacted with so much severity against the combination of servants, labourers, and journeymen. The workmen, accordingly, very seldom derive any advantage from the violence of those tumultuous combinations, which, partly from the interposition of the civil magistrate, partly from the superior steadiness of the masters, partly from the necessity which the greater part of the workmen are under of submitting for the sake of present subsistence, generally end in nothing but the punishment or ruin of the ringleaders.
But though, in disputes with their workmen, masters must generally have the advantage, there is, however, a certain rate, below which it seems impossible to reduce, for any considerable time, the ordinary wages even of the lowest species of labour.
A man must always live by his work, and his wages must at least be sufficient to maintain him. They must even upon most occasions be somewhat more, otherwise it would be impossible for him to bring up a family, and the race of such workmen could not last beyond the first generation. Mr Cantillon seems, upon this account, to suppose that the lowest species of common labourers must everywhere earn at least double their own maintenance, in order that, one with another, they may be enabled to bring up two children; the labour of the wife, on account of her necessary attendance on the children, being supposed no more than sufficient to provide for herself: But one half the children born, it is computed, die before the age of manhood. The poorest labourers, therefore, according to this account, must, one with another, attempt to rear at least four children, in order that two may have an equal chance of living to that age. But the necessary maintenance of four children, it is supposed, may be nearly equal to that of one man. The labour of an able-bodied slave, the same author adds, is computed to be worth double his maintenance; and that of the meanest labourer, he thinks, cannot be worth less than that of an able-bodied slave. Thus far at least seems certain, that, in order to bring up a family, the labour of the husband and wife together must, even in the lowest species of common labour, be able to earn something more than what is precisely necessary for their own maintenance; but in what proportion, whether in that above-mentioned, or any other, I shall not take upon me to determine.
There are certain circumstances, however, which sometimes give the labourers an advantage, and enable them to raise their wages considerably above this rate, evidently the lowest which is consistent with common humanity.
When in any country the demand for those who live by wages, labourers, journeymen, servants of every kind, is continually increasing; when every year furnishes employment for a greater number than had been employed the year before, the workmen have no occasion to combine in order to raise their wages. The scarcity of hands occasions a competition among masters, who bid against one another in order to get workmen, and thus voluntarily break through the natural combination of masters not to raise wages. The demand for those who live by wages, it is evident, cannot increase but in proportion to the increase of the funds which are destined to the payment of wages. These funds are of two kinds, first, the revenue which is over and above what is necessary for the maintenance; and, secondly, the stock which is over and above what is necessary for the employment of their masters.
When the landlord, annuitant, or monied man, has a greater revenue than what he judges sufficient to maintain his own family, he employs either the whole or a part of the surplus in maintaining one or more menial servants. Increase this surplus, and he will naturally increase the number of those servants.
When an independent workman, such as a weaver or shoemaker, has got more stock than what is sufficient to purchase the materials of his own work, and to maintain himself till he can dispose of it, he naturally employs one or more journeymen with the surplus, in order to make a profit by their work. Increase this surplus, and he will naturally increase the number of his journeymen.
The demand for those who live by wages, therefore, necessarily increases with the increase of the revenue and stock of every country, and cannot possibly increase without it. The increase of revenue and stock is the increase of national wealth. The demand for those who live by wages, therefore, naturally increases with the increase of national wealth, and cannot possibly increase without it.
It is not the actual greatness of national wealth, but its continual increase, which occasions a rise in the wages of labour. It is not, accordingly, in the richest countries, but in the most thriving, or in those which are growing rich the fastest, that the wages of labour are highest. England is certainly, in the present times, a much richer country than any part of North America. The wages of labour, however, are much higher in North America than in any part of England. In the province of New York, common labourers earned in 1773, before the commencement of the late disturbances, three shillings and sixpence currency, equal to two shillings sterling, a-day; ship-carpenters, ten shillings and sixpence currency, with a pint of rum, worth sixpence sterling, equal in all to six shillings and sixpence sterling; house-carpenters and bricklayers, eight shillings currency, equal to four shillings and sixpence sterling; journeymen tailors, five shillings currency, equal to about two shillings and tenpence sterling. These prices are all above the London price; and wages are said to be as high in the other colonies as in New York. The price of provisions is everywhere in North America much lower than in England. A dearth has never been known there. In the worst seasons they have always had a sufficiency for themselves, though less for exportation. If the money price of labour, therefore, be higher than it is anywhere in the mother-country, its real price, the real command of the necessaries and conveniencies of life which it conveys to the labourer, must be higher in a still greater proportion.
English
ON THE WAGES OF LABOR.
The produce of labor is labor’s natural reward or wages. In that original state of affairs before both the appropriation of land and the accumulation of stock, the whole produce of labor belongs to the laborer. He has neither landlord nor master to share it with him.
Had this state continued, labor’s wages would have risen with every improvement in its productive powers brought about by the division of labor. Everything would gradually have grown cheaper. Goods would have been produced with less labor; and since commodities produced by equal quantities of labor would naturally, in this state, be exchanged for one another, they would also have been bought with the produce of less labor.
But though everything would really have grown cheaper, many things might have appeared dearer than before, or exchanged for a greater quantity of other goods. Suppose, for example, that in most employments labor’s productive powers had increased tenfold, so that a day’s labor produced ten times as much work as at first, but in one particular employment they had only doubled, so that a day’s labor produced just twice as much as before. In exchanging the produce of a day’s labor in most employments for that of a day’s labor in this one, ten times the former quantity of work would purchase only twice the former quantity in the latter. A given quantity of the latter product—a pound weight, for example—would thus appear five times dearer than before. In reality, however, it would be twice as cheap. Though it would take five times as many other goods to buy it, it would take only half as much labor either to buy or produce it. It would therefore be twice as easy to acquire.
But this original state, in which the laborer enjoyed all the produce of his own labor, could not survive the first appropriation of land and accumulation of stock. It ended, therefore, long before the greatest improvements in labor’s productive powers; there is no purpose in pursuing further what its effects on the reward or wages of labor might have been.
As soon as land becomes private property, the landlord demands a share of almost everything the laborer can raise or gather from it. His rent is the first deduction from the produce of labor employed on the land.
The person tilling the ground seldom has the means to support himself until the harvest. His support is generally advanced from the stock of a master, the farmer who employs him, and who would have no reason to do so unless he shared in the produce of the labor or recovered his stock with a profit. That profit is a second deduction from the produce of labor employed on the land.
The produce of almost every other kind of labor is subject to a similar deduction for profit. In every art and manufacture most workers need a master to advance the materials for their work and their wages and support until it is finished. He shares in the produce of their labor, or in the value it adds to the materials on which it is spent; this share is his profit.
Sometimes, indeed, an independent worker has enough stock both to buy his materials and to support himself until the work is finished. He is both master and worker, and enjoys the whole produce of his own labor, or all the value it adds to the materials on which it is spent. It includes what are usually two distinct revenues belonging to two distinct people: the profits of stock and the wages of labor.
Such cases, however, are uncommon. In every part of Europe twenty workers serve a master for every one who is independent, and the wages of labor are everywhere understood in their usual sense, when the laborer is one person and the owner of the stock employing him another.
The usual wages of labor everywhere depend on the contract ordinarily made between these two parties, whose interests are far from identical. Workers want to receive as much as possible, masters to pay as little as possible. The former are inclined to combine to raise wages, the latter to lower them.
It is not difficult, however, to foresee which side must ordinarily have the advantage in this contest and force the other to accept its terms. Being fewer, masters can combine much more easily; besides, the law authorizes, or at least does not prohibit, their combinations while prohibiting those of workers. We have no acts of parliament against combining to lower the price of work, but many against combining to raise it. In every such dispute, masters can hold out far longer. A landlord, farmer, master manufacturer, or merchant could generally live for a year or two on stocks already acquired even if he employed no workers at all. Without employment, many workers could not live a week, few a month, and scarcely any a year. In the long run, a worker may be as necessary to his master as the master is to him; but the need is not equally immediate.
We rarely hear, it is said, of masters combining, though we often hear of workers doing so. But anyone who imagines on that account that masters rarely combine knows as little of the world as of this subject. Masters are always and everywhere in a sort of tacit but constant and uniform combination not to raise wages above their current rate. Breaking this combination is everywhere deeply unpopular and brings a kind of reproach on a master from his neighbors and equals. We seldom hear of the combination precisely because it is the usual, one might say natural, state of things, which no one thinks worth reporting. Masters also sometimes form particular combinations to push wages even below that rate. These are always conducted in the greatest silence and secrecy until they are put into effect; and when workers give way, as sometimes happens without resistance, the hardship they feel is never heard of by others. Such combinations are often met, however, by a defensive combination of workers, who also sometimes combine on their own initiative, without such provocation, to raise the price of their labor. Their usual grounds are sometimes the high price of provisions, sometimes the great profit their masters make from their work. But whether these combinations are offensive or defensive, everyone hears of them. To settle the matter quickly, workers invariably resort to the loudest outcry, and sometimes to shocking violence and outrage. They are desperate, and act with the folly and excess of desperate men who must either starve or frighten their masters into immediately meeting their demands. The masters on these occasions are just as loud on the other side, calling incessantly for the help of the civil magistrate and for strict enforcement of the severe laws enacted against combinations of servants, laborers, and journeymen. Workers accordingly very seldom gain anything from the violence of these tumultuous combinations. Partly because the civil magistrate intervenes, partly because masters stand firmer, and partly because most workers must submit in order to survive for the present, such combinations usually end only in punishment or ruin for their leaders.
Though masters must generally prevail in disputes with their workers, there is nevertheless a certain rate below which the ordinary wages of even the lowest kind of labor seem impossible to reduce for any considerable time.
A man must live by his work, and his wages must at least maintain him. Usually they must be somewhat more; otherwise he could not raise a family, and the line of such workers would end with the first generation. Mr Cantillon therefore seems to suppose that the lowest class of common laborers must everywhere earn at least twice what is needed for their own support, so that on average they can raise two children; the wife’s labor, because she must attend to the children, is assumed to provide no more than her own support. But it is calculated that one half of children born die before adulthood. On this account the poorest workers must, on average, try to raise at least four children so that two have an equal chance of reaching that age. The necessary support of four children, it is supposed, may nearly equal that of one man. The same author adds that the labor of an able-bodied slave is reckoned worth twice the cost of his support, and thinks that the labor of the humblest worker cannot be worth less than an able-bodied slave’s. At least this much seems certain: to raise a family, a husband and wife together must be able to earn, even in the lowest kind of common labor, something more than precisely what their own support requires. In what proportion—whether the one just mentioned or another—I will not presume to decide.
Certain circumstances, however, sometimes give laborers an advantage, enabling them to raise their wages considerably above this rate, plainly the lowest compatible with ordinary humanity.
When a country’s demand for people who live on wages—laborers, journeymen, and servants of every kind—is constantly growing; when every year provides employment for more people than the year before, workers need not combine to raise their wages. A shortage of hands makes masters compete, bidding against one another for workers and thus voluntarily breaking the masters’ natural combination against wage increases. Clearly, demand for wage earners can grow only in proportion to growth in the funds set aside to pay wages. These funds are of two kinds: first, revenue beyond what is needed for their masters’ support; and second, stock beyond what is needed for their masters’ employment.
When a landlord, annuitant, or man of money has more revenue than he judges necessary to support his own family, he spends all or part of the surplus supporting one or more domestic servants. Increase the surplus and he will naturally employ more servants.
When an independent worker, such as a weaver or shoemaker, has more stock than he needs to buy his own materials and support himself until he can sell his work, he naturally employs one or more journeymen with the surplus to profit from their work. Increase that surplus and he will naturally employ more journeymen.
Demand for wage earners therefore necessarily grows with the revenue and stock of every country and cannot possibly grow without them. Growth in revenue and stock is growth in national wealth. Demand for wage earners therefore naturally grows with national wealth and cannot possibly grow without it.
It is not the existing magnitude of national wealth, but its continual growth, that raises wages. Accordingly, wages are highest not in the richest countries but in those most prosperous, or growing rich most rapidly. England at present is certainly much richer than any part of North America. Yet wages are much higher in North America than anywhere in England. In the province of New York, in 1773, before the late disturbances began, common laborers earned three shillings and sixpence currency, equal to two shillings sterling, a day; ship-carpenters, ten shillings and sixpence currency, with a pint of rum worth sixpence sterling, equal in all to six shillings and sixpence sterling; house-carpenters and bricklayers, eight shillings currency, equal to four shillings and sixpence sterling; journeymen tailors, five shillings currency, equal to about two shillings and tenpence sterling. All these prices exceed London’s, and wages are said to be as high in the other colonies as in New York. Provisions everywhere in North America cost much less than in England. A dearth has never been known there. Even in the worst seasons they have always had enough for themselves, though less to export. If the money price of labor is higher than anywhere in the mother country, then its real price—the real command over life’s necessities and comforts that it gives the laborer—must be higher by an even greater proportion.
Book I, Chapter VIII, 2
18th-century English
But though North America is not yet so rich as England, it is much more thriving, and advancing with much greater rapidity to the further acquisition of riches. The most decisive mark of the prosperity of any country is the increase of the number of its inhabitants. In Great Britain, and most other European countries, they are not supposed to double in less than five hundred years. In the British colonies in North America, it has been found that they double in twenty or five-and-twenty years. Nor in the present times is this increase principally owing to the continual importation of new inhabitants, but to the great multiplication of the species. Those who live to old age, it is said, frequently see there from fifty to a hundred, and sometimes many more, descendants from their own body. Labour is there so well rewarded, that a numerous family of children, instead of being a burden, is a source of opulence and prosperity to the parents. The labour of each child, before it can leave their house, is computed to be worth a hundred pounds clear gain to them. A young widow with four or five young children, who, among the middling or inferior ranks of people in Europe, would have so little chance for a second husband, is there frequently courted as a sort of fortune. The value of children is the greatest of all encouragements to marriage. We cannot, therefore, wonder that the people in North America should generally marry very young. Notwithstanding the great increase occasioned by such early marriages, there is a continual complaint of the scarcity of hands in North America. The demand for labourers, the funds destined for maintaining them increase, it seems, still faster than they can find labourers to employ.
Though the wealth of a country should be very great, yet if it has been long stationary, we must not expect to find the wages of labour very high in it. The funds destined for the payment of wages, the revenue and stock of its inhabitants, may be of the greatest extent; but if they have continued for several centuries of the same, or very nearly of the same extent, the number of labourers employed every year could easily supply, and even more than supply, the number wanted the following year. There could seldom be any scarcity of hands, nor could the masters be obliged to bid against one another in order to get them. The hands, on the contrary, would, in this case, naturally multiply beyond their employment. There would be a constant scarcity of employment, and the labourers would be obliged to bid against one another in order to get it. If in such a country the wages of labour had ever been more than sufficient to maintain the labourer, and to enable him to bring up a family, the competition of the labourers and the interest of the masters would soon reduce them to the lowest rate which is consistent with common humanity. China has been long one of the richest, that is, one of the most fertile, best cultivated, most industrious, and most populous, countries in the world. It seems, however, to have been long stationary. Marco Polo, who visited it more than five hundred years ago, describes its cultivation, industry, and populousness, almost in the same terms in which they are described by travellers in the present times. It had, perhaps, even long before his time, acquired that full complement of riches which the nature of its laws and institutions permits it to acquire. The accounts of all travellers, inconsistent in many other respects, agree in the low wages of labour, and in the difficulty which a labourer finds in bringing up a family in China. If by digging the ground a whole day he can get what will purchase a small quantity of rice in the evening, he is contented. The condition of artificers is, if possible, still worse. Instead of waiting indolently in their work-houses for the calls of their customers, as in Europe, they are continually running about the streets with the tools of their respective trades, offering their services, and, as it were, begging employment. The poverty of the lower ranks of people in China far surpasses that of the most beggarly nations in Europe. In the neighbourhood of Canton, many hundred, it is commonly said, many thousand families have no habitation on the land, but live constantly in little fishing-boats upon the rivers and canals. The subsistence which they find there is so scanty, that they are eager to fish up the nastiest garbage thrown overboard from any European ship. Any carrion, the carcase of a dead dog or cat, for example, though half putrid and stinking, is as welcome to them as the most wholesome food to the people of other countries. Marriage is encouraged in China, not by the profitableness of children, but by the liberty of destroying them. In all great towns, several are every night exposed in the street, or drowned like puppies in the water. The performance of this horrid office is even said to be the avowed business by which some people earn their subsistence.
China, however, though it may, perhaps, stand still, does not seem to go backwards. Its towns are nowhere deserted by their inhabitants. The lands which had once been cultivated, are nowhere neglected. The same, or very nearly the same, annual labour, must, therefore, continue to be performed, and the funds destined for maintaining it must not, consequently, be sensibly diminished. The lowest class of labourers, therefore, notwithstanding their scanty subsistence, must some way or another make shift to continue their race so far as to keep up their usual numbers.
But it would be otherwise in a country where the funds destined for the maintenance of labour were sensibly decaying. Every year the demand for servants and labourers would, in all the different classes of employments, be less than it had been the year before. Many who had been bred in the superior classes, not being able to find employment in their own business, would be glad to seek it in the lowest. The lowest class being not only overstocked with its own workmen, but with the overflowings of all the other classes, the competition for employment would be so great in it, as to reduce the wages of labour to the most miserable and scanty subsistence of the labourer. Many would not be able to find employment even upon these hard terms, but would either starve, or be driven to seek a subsistence, either by begging, or by the perpetration perhaps, of the greatest enormities. Want, famine, and mortality, would immediately prevail in that class, and from thence extend themselves to all the superior classes, till the number of inhabitants in the country was reduced to what could easily be maintained by the revenue and stock which remained in it, and which had escaped either the tyranny or calamity which had destroyed the rest. This, perhaps, is nearly the present state of Bengal, and of some other of the English settlements in the East Indies. In a fertile country, which had before been much depopulated, where subsistence, consequently, should not be very difficult, and where, notwithstanding, three or four hundred thousand people die of hunger in one year, we may be assured that the funds destined for the maintenance of the labouring poor are fast decaying. The difference between the genius of the British constitution, which protects and governs North America, and that of the mercantile company which oppresses and domineers in the East Indies, cannot, perhaps, be better illustrated than by the different state of those countries.
The liberal reward of labour, therefore, as it is the necessary effect, so it is the natural symptom of increasing national wealth. The scanty maintenance of the labouring poor, on the other hand, is the natural symptom that things are at a stand, and their starving condition, that they are going fast backwards.
In Great Britain, the wages of labour seem, in the present times, to be evidently more than what is precisely necessary to enable the labourer to bring up a family. In order to satisfy ourselves upon this point, it will not be necessary to enter into any tedious or doubtful calculation of what may be the lowest sum upon which it is possible to do this. There are many plain symptoms, that the wages of labour are nowhere in this country regulated by this lowest rate, which is consistent with common humanity.
First, in almost every part of Great Britain there is a distinction, even in the lowest species of labour, between summer and winter wages. Summer wages are always highest. But, on account of the extraordinary expense of fuel, the maintenance of a family is most expensive in winter. Wages, therefore, being highest when this expense is lowest, it seems evident that they are not regulated by what is necessary for this expense, but by the quantity and supposed value of the work. A labourer, it may be said, indeed, ought to save part of his summer wages, in order to defray his winter expense; and that, through the whole year, they do not exceed what is necessary to maintain his family through the whole year. A slave, however, or one absolutely dependent on us for immediate subsistence, would not be treated in this manner. His daily subsistence would be proportioned to his daily necessities.
Secondly, the wages of labour do not, in Great Britain, fluctuate with the price of provisions. These vary everywhere from year to year, frequently from month to month. But in many places, the money price of labour remains uniformly the same, sometimes for half a century together. If, in these places, therefore, the labouring poor can maintain their families in dear years, they must be at their ease in times of moderate plenty, and in affluence in those of extraordinary cheapness. The high price of provisions during these ten years past, has not, in many parts of the kingdom, been accompanied with any sensible rise in the money price of labour. It has, indeed, in some; owing, probably, more to the increase of the demand for labour, than to that of the price of provisions.
Thirdly, as the price of provisions varies more from year to year than the wages of labour, so, on the other hand, the wages of labour vary more from place to place than the price of provisions. The prices of bread and butchers’ meat are generally the same, or very nearly the same, through the greater part of the united kingdom. These, and most other things which are sold by retail, the way in which the labouring poor buy all things, are generally fully as cheap, or cheaper, in great towns than in the remoter parts of the country, for reasons which I shall have occasion to explain hereafter. But the wages of labour in a great town and its neighbourhood are frequently a fourth or a fifth part, twenty or five-and—twenty per cent. higher than at a few miles distance. Eighteen pence a day may be reckoned the common price of labour in London and its neighbourhood. At a few miles distance, it falls to fourteen and fifteen pence. Tenpence may be reckoned its price in Edinburgh and its neighbourhood. At a few miles distance, it falls to eightpence, the usual price of common labour through the greater part of the low country of Scotland, where it varies a good deal less than in England. Such a difference of prices, which, it seems, is not always sufficient to transport a man from one parish to another, would necessarily occasion so great a transportation of the most bulky commodities, not only from one parish to another, but from one end of the kingdom, almost from one end of the world to the other, as would soon reduce them more nearly to a level. After all that has been said of the levity and inconstancy of human nature, it appears evidently from experience, that man is, of all sorts of luggage, the most difficult to be transported. If the labouring poor, therefore, can maintain their families in those parts of the kingdom where the price of labour is lowest, they must be in affluence where it is highest.
Fourthly, the variations in the price of labour not only do not correspond, either in place or time, with those in the price of provisions, but they are frequently quite opposite.
Grain, the food of the common people, is dearer in Scotland than in England, whence Scotland receives almost every year very large supplies. But English corn must be sold dearer in Scotland, the country to which it is brought, than in England, the country from which it comes; and in proportion to its quality it cannot be sold dearer in Scotland than the Scotch corn that comes to the same market in competition with it. The quality of grain depends chiefly upon the quantity of flour or meal which it yields at the mill; and, in this respect, English grain is so much superior to the Scotch, that though often dearer in appearance, or in proportion to the measure of its bulk, it is generally cheaper in reality, or in proportion to its quality, or even to the measure of its weight. The price of labour, on the contrary, is dearer in England than in Scotland. If the labouring poor, therefore, can maintain their families in the one part of the united kingdom, they must be in affluence in the other. Oatmeal, indeed, supplies the common people in Scotland with the greatest and the best part of their food, which is, in general, much inferior to that of their neighbours of the same rank in England. This difference, however, in the mode of their subsistence, is not the cause, but the effect, of the difference in their wages; though, by a strange misapprehension, I have frequently heard it represented as the cause. It is not because one man keeps a coach, while his neighbour walks a-foot, that the one is rich, and the other poor; but because the one is rich, he keeps a coach, and because the other is poor, he walks a-foot.
English
Although North America is not yet as rich as England, it is far more prosperous and advancing much faster toward still greater wealth. The clearest mark of a country’s prosperity is growth in its population. In Great Britain and most other European countries, the population is thought to take at least five hundred years to double. In the British colonies in North America, it has been found to double in twenty or five-and-twenty years. At present this increase is due chiefly not to the constant arrival of new inhabitants but to the great multiplication of those already there. People who live to old age, it is said, frequently see from fifty to a hundred descendants of their own, and sometimes many more. Labor is so well rewarded there that a large family of children is a source of wealth and prosperity to parents rather than a burden. Before each child leaves home, the value of that child’s labor is reckoned at a hundred pounds of clear gain to them. A young widow with four or five young children, who among Europe’s middle or lower ranks would stand little chance of finding a second husband, is often courted there as a kind of fortune. The value of children is the strongest possible encouragement to marriage. We cannot therefore wonder that people in North America generally marry very young. Despite the great increase brought about by such early marriages, complaints of a shortage of hands are constant. The demand for workers, and the funds intended to support them, seem to grow faster still than the supply of workers they can employ.
Even if a country’s wealth is very great, we should not expect high wages if that wealth has long stood still. The funds set aside to pay wages—the revenue and stock of its inhabitants—may be immense; but if they have remained the same, or nearly so, for several centuries, the number of workers employed each year could easily meet, and even exceed, the number needed the next year. Hands would seldom be scarce, and masters would not have to bid against one another for them. On the contrary, workers would naturally multiply beyond the available employment. Jobs would be constantly scarce, and workers would have to bid against one another for them. If wages in such a country had ever been more than enough to support a laborer and enable him to raise a family, competition among workers and the interest of masters would soon reduce them to the lowest rate compatible with ordinary humanity. China has long been one of the richest countries in the world—that is, one of the most fertile, best cultivated, most industrious, and most populous. It seems, however, to have long stood still. Marco Polo, who visited it more than five hundred years ago, describes its cultivation, industry, and population in almost the same terms used by travelers today. Perhaps long before his time it had already acquired all the wealth its laws and institutions permit it to acquire. Travelers’ accounts disagree in many other respects, but agree on the low wages and on the difficulty a worker faces in raising a family in China. If a whole day digging the ground earns him enough to buy a little rice that evening, he is content. The condition of artisans is, if possible, still worse. Rather than sit idly in their workshops waiting for customers, as in Europe, they continually run through the streets carrying the tools of their trades, offering their services and virtually begging for work. The poverty of the lower ranks in China far exceeds that of the poorest nations of Europe. Near Canton, many hundred—commonly, it is said, many thousand—families have no dwelling on land, but live permanently in small fishing boats on the rivers and canals. Their sustenance is so scant that they eagerly fish up the foulest refuse thrown overboard from any European ship. Carrion, such as the carcass of a dead dog or cat, half-rotten and stinking, is as welcome to them as the most wholesome food is to people elsewhere. Marriage is encouraged in China not by the profit children bring, but by the liberty to destroy them. In every large town, several are left in the street each night or drowned in the water like puppies. Carrying out this dreadful task is even said to be the openly acknowledged livelihood of some people.
China, however, though it may perhaps stand still, does not seem to be moving backward. Nowhere are its towns deserted by their inhabitants; nowhere is land once cultivated left neglected. The same, or almost the same, annual labor must therefore still be performed, and the funds set aside to support it cannot have diminished noticeably. Despite their meager sustenance, then, the lowest class of workers must somehow manage to reproduce in sufficient numbers to maintain their customary population.
Things would be different in a country where the funds available to maintain labor were noticeably shrinking. Each year demand for servants and laborers throughout every class of employment would be less than the year before. Many people trained for higher classes of employment, unable to find work in their own calling, would gladly seek it in the lowest. That lowest class, overcrowded not only with its own workers but also with the overflow from every other class, would face such fierce competition for work that wages would fall to the most wretched and meager subsistence. Many could find no work even on these harsh terms, but would starve or be driven to seek a living through begging, or perhaps through the gravest crimes. Poverty, famine, and death would immediately spread through that class, and from there through all the higher classes, until the country’s population was reduced to the number that could readily be supported by the revenue and stock left to it—what had escaped the tyranny or calamity that destroyed the rest. This, perhaps, comes close to the present condition of Bengal and some other English settlements in the East Indies. When, in a fertile country previously much depopulated, where food should consequently not be very hard to obtain, three or four hundred thousand people nevertheless die of hunger in one year, we may be certain that the funds available to maintain the laboring poor are rapidly dwindling. The contrast between the character of the British constitution, which protects and governs North America, and that of the mercantile company, which oppresses and rules the East Indies, can perhaps be illustrated no better than by the differing conditions of those countries.
A generous reward for labor, therefore, is both the necessary effect and the natural sign of growing national wealth. Meager subsistence among the laboring poor, by contrast, is the natural sign of stagnation; starvation among them, the sign of rapid decline.
In Great Britain at present, wages plainly seem to exceed what is strictly necessary to enable a laborer to raise a family. To establish this we need not undertake a long and uncertain calculation of the smallest sum on which a family can be raised. There are many clear signs that nowhere in this country are wages governed by this lowest rate compatible with ordinary humanity.
First, in almost every part of Great Britain, even in the lowest kind of labor, wages differ between summer and winter. Summer wages are always higher. Yet the extra cost of fuel makes supporting a family most expensive in winter. Since wages are highest when that cost is lowest, they are evidently governed not by the expense of subsistence but by the quantity and supposed value of the work. A laborer, it might be argued, ought to save part of his summer wages to cover winter expenses, and across the year his wages do not exceed what is necessary to support his family throughout the year. A slave, however, or anyone entirely dependent on us for immediate support, would not be treated in this way. His daily support would be proportioned to his daily needs.
Second, wages in Great Britain do not fluctuate with the price of provisions. That price changes everywhere from year to year and often from month to month. Yet in many places the money price of labor remains unchanged, sometimes for half a century. If the laboring poor there can support their families in expensive years, they must live comfortably when provisions are moderately abundant, and in affluence when they are exceptionally cheap. In many parts of the kingdom, the high price of provisions during these ten years past has brought no noticeable rise in money wages. In some parts wages have indeed risen, probably owing more to increased demand for labor than to the higher price of provisions.
Third, while the price of provisions varies more from year to year than wages do, wages, on the other hand, vary more from place to place than the price of provisions. Bread and butcher’s meat generally cost the same, or nearly so, throughout most of the united kingdom. These and most other goods sold at retail—the way the laboring poor buy everything—are generally at least as cheap in large towns as in remoter parts of the country, for reasons I shall explain later. Yet wages in a large town and its surroundings are often a fourth or a fifth part, twenty or five-and-twenty per cent. higher than wages only a few miles away. Eighteen pence a day may be considered the usual wage in London and its surroundings; a few miles away it drops to fourteen and fifteen pence. Tenpence may be considered the wage in Edinburgh and its surroundings; a few miles away it drops to eightpence, the usual wage for common labor across most of the low country of Scotland, where it varies much less than in England. Such a difference in prices, apparently not always enough to move a man from one parish to another, would necessarily move bulky commodities on a vast scale, not merely between parishes but from one end of the kingdom—or almost one end of the world—to the other, until their prices became far more nearly equal. For all that has been said about human fickleness and inconstancy, experience makes it plain that of all kinds of baggage, a man is the hardest to transport. If the laboring poor can support their families where wages are lowest in the kingdom, they must live in affluence where they are highest.
Fourth, differences in the price of labor not only fail to match differences in the price of provisions, whether between places or over time; they are often directly opposed.
Grain, the food of ordinary people, is dearer in Scotland than in England, from which Scotland receives very large supplies almost every year. But English grain must sell for more in Scotland, where it is brought, than in England, where it comes from; and in proportion to its quality it cannot sell for more in Scotland than the Scottish grain competing with it in the same market. Grain’s quality depends chiefly on how much flour or meal it yields when milled; in this respect English grain so far surpasses Scottish grain that although it often seems dearer, measured by volume, it is generally cheaper in reality, measured by quality or even by weight. The price of labor, by contrast, is higher in England than in Scotland. If the laboring poor can support their families in the one part of the united kingdom, they must live in affluence in the other. Oatmeal does provide most of the food, and the best part of it, for ordinary people in Scotland; their diet is generally much worse than that of their neighbors of the same rank in England. This difference in their way of living, however, is not the cause of the difference in wages but its effect, although I have often heard it presented, through a strange misunderstanding, as the cause. One man is not rich and his neighbor poor because the first keeps a coach while the second goes on foot; the first keeps a coach because he is rich, and the second goes on foot because he is poor.
Book I, Chapter VIII, 3
18th-century English
During the course of the last century, taking one year with another, grain was dearer in both parts of the united kingdom than during that of the present. This is a matter of fact which cannot now admit of any reasonable doubt; and the proof of it is, if possible, still more decisive with regard to Scotland than with regard to England. It is in Scotland supported by the evidence of the public fiars, annual valuations made upon oath, according to the actual state of the markets, of all the different sorts of grain in every different county of Scotland. If such direct proof could require any collateral evidence to confirm it, I would observe, that this has likewise been the case in France, and probably in most other parts of Europe. With regard to France, there is the clearest proof. But though it is certain, that in both parts of the united kingdom grain was somewhat dearer in the last century than in the present, it is equally certain that labour was much cheaper. If the labouring poor, therefore, could bring up their families then, they must be much more at their ease now. In the last century, the most usual day-wages of common labour through the greater part of Scotland were sixpence in summer, and fivepence in winter. Three shillings a-week, the same price, very nearly still continues to be paid in some parts of the Highlands and Western islands. Through the greater part of the Low country, the most usual wages of common labour are now eight pence a-day; tenpence, sometimes a shilling, about Edinburgh, in the counties which border upon England, probably on account of that neighbourhood, and in a few other places where there has lately been a considerable rise in the demand for labour, about Glasgow, Carron, Ayrshire, etc. In England, the improvements of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce, began much earlier than in Scotland. The demand for labour, and consequently its price, must necessarily have increased with those improvements. In the last century, accordingly, as well as in the present, the wages of labour were higher in England than in Scotland. They have risen, too, considerably since that time, though, on account of the greater variety of wages paid there in different places, it is more difficult to ascertain how much. In 1614, the pay of a foot soldier was the same as in the present times, eightpence a-day. When it was first established, it would naturally be regulated by the usual wages of common labourers, the rank of people from which foot soldiers are commonly drawn. Lord-chief-justice Hales, who wrote in the time of Charles II. computes the necessary expense of a labourer’s family, consisting of six persons, the father and mother, two children able to do something, and two not able, at ten shillings a-week, or twenty-six pounds a-year. If they cannot earn this by their labour, they must make it up, he supposes, either by begging or stealing. He appears to have enquired very carefully into this subject {See his scheme for the maintenance of the poor, in Burn’s History of the Poor Laws.}. In 1688, Mr Gregory King, whose skill in political arithmetic is so much extolled by Dr Davenant, computed the ordinary income of labourers and out-servants to be fifteen pounds a-year to a family, which he supposed to consist, one with another, of three and a half persons. His calculation, therefore, though different in appearance, corresponds very nearly at bottom with that of Judge Hales. Both suppose the weekly expense of such families to be about twenty-pence a-head. Both the pecuniary income and expense of such families have increased considerably since that time through the greater part of the kingdom, in some places more, and in some less, though perhaps scarce anywhere so much as some exaggerated accounts of the present wages of labour have lately represented them to the public. The price of labour, it must be observed, cannot be ascertained very accurately anywhere, different prices being often paid at the same place and for the same sort of labour, not only according to the different abilities of the workman, but according to the easiness or hardness of the masters. Where wages are not regulated by law, all that we can pretend to determine is, what are the most usual; and experience seems to shew that law can never regulate them properly, though it has often pretended to do so.
The real recompence of labour, the real quantity of the necessaries and conveniencies of life which it can procure to the labourer, has, during the course of the present century, increased perhaps in a still greater proportion than its money price. Not only grain has become somewhat cheaper, but many other things, from which the industrious poor derive an agreeable and wholesome variety of food, have become a great deal cheaper. Potatoes, for example, do not at present, through the greater part of the kingdom, cost half the price which they used to do thirty or forty years ago. The same thing may be said of turnips, carrots, cabbages; things which were formerly never raised but by the spade, but which are now commonly raised by the plough. All sort of garden stuff, too, has become cheaper. The greater part of the apples, and even of the onions, consumed in Great Britain, were, in the last century, imported from Flanders. The great improvements in the coarser manufactories of both linen and woollen cloth furnish the labourers with cheaper and better clothing; and those in the manufactories of the coarser metals, with cheaper and better instruments of trade, as well as with many agreeable and convenient pieces of household furniture. Soap, salt, candles, leather, and fermented liquors, have, indeed, become a good deal dearer, chiefly from the taxes which have been laid upon them. The quantity of these, however, which the labouring poor are under any necessity of consuming, is so very small, that the increase in their price does not compensate the diminution in that of so many other things. The common complaint, that luxury extends itself even to the lowest ranks of the people, and that the labouring poor will not now be contented with the same food, clothing, and lodging, which satisfied them in former times, may convince us that it is not the money price of labour only, but its real recompence, which has augmented.
Is this improvement in the circumstances of the lower ranks of the people to be regarded as an advantage, or as an inconveniency, to the society? The answer seems at first abundantly plain. Servants, labourers, and workmen of different kinds, make up the far greater part of every great political society. But what improves the circumstances of the greater part, can never be regarded as any inconveniency to the whole. No society can surely be flourishing and happy, of which the far greater part of the members are poor and miserable. It is but equity, besides, that they who feed, clothe, and lodge the whole body of the people, should have such a share of the produce of their own labour as to be themselves tolerably well fed, clothed, and lodged.
Poverty, though it no doubt discourages, does not always prevent, marriage. It seems even to be favourable to generation. A half-starved Highland woman frequently bears more than twenty children, while a pampered fine lady is often incapable of bearing any, and is generally exhausted by two or three. Barrenness, so frequent among women of fashion, is very rare among those of inferior station. Luxury, in the fair sex, while it inflames, perhaps, the passion for enjoyment, seems always to weaken, and frequently to destroy altogether, the powers of generation.
But poverty, though it does not prevent the generation, is extremely unfavourable to the rearing of children. The tender plant is produced; but in so cold a soil, and so severe a climate, soon withers and dies. It is not uncommon, I have been frequently told, in the Highlands of Scotland, for a mother who has born twenty children not to have two alive. Several officers of great experience have assured me, that, so far from recruiting their regiment, they have never been able to supply it with drums and fifes, from all the soldiers’ children that were born in it. A greater number of fine children, however, is seldom seen anywhere than about a barrack of soldiers. Very few of them, it seems, arrive at the age of thirteen or fourteen. In some places, one half the children die before they are four years of age, in many places before they are seven, and in almost all places before they are nine or ten. This great mortality, however will everywhere be found chiefly among the children of the common people, who cannot afford to tend them with the same care as those of better station. Though their marriages are generally more fruitful than those of people of fashion, a smaller proportion of their children arrive at maturity. In foundling hospitals, and among the children brought up by parish charities, the mortality is still greater than among those of the common people.
Every species of animals naturally multiplies in proportion to the means of their subsistence, and no species can ever multiply beyond it. But in civilized society, it is only among the inferior ranks of people that the scantiness of subsistence can set limits to the further multiplication of the human species; and it can do so in no other way than by destroying a great part of the children which their fruitful marriages produce.
The liberal reward of labour, by enabling them to provide better for their children, and consequently to bring up a greater number, naturally tends to widen and extend those limits. It deserves to be remarked, too, that it necessarily does this as nearly as possible in the proportion which the demand for labour requires. If this demand is continually increasing, the reward of labour must necessarily encourage in such a manner the marriage and multiplication of labourers, as may enable them to supply that continually increasing demand by a continually increasing population. If the reward should at any time be less than what was requisite for this purpose, the deficiency of hands would soon raise it; and if it should at any time be more, their excessive multiplication would soon lower it to this necessary rate. The market would be so much understocked with labour in the one case, and so much overstocked in the other, as would soon force back its price to that proper rate which the circumstances of the society required. It is in this manner that the demand for men, like that for any other commodity, necessarily regulates the production of men, quickens it when it goes on too slowly, and stops it when it advances too fast. It is this demand which regulates and determines the state of propagation in all the different countries of the world; in North America, in Europe, and in China; which renders it rapidly progressive in the first, slow and gradual in the second, and altogether stationary in the last.
The wear and tear of a slave, it has been said, is at the expense of his master; but that of a free servant is at his own expense. The wear and tear of the latter, however, is, in reality, as much at the expense of his master as that of the former. The wages paid to journeymen and servants of every kind must be such as may enable them, one with another to continue the race of journeymen and servants, according as the increasing, diminishing, or stationary demand of the society, may happen to require. But though the wear and tear of a free servant be equally at the expense of his master, it generally costs him much less than that of a slave. The fund destined for replacing or repairing, if I may say so, the wear and tear of the slave, is commonly managed by a negligent master or careless overseer. That destined for performing the same office with regard to the freeman is managed by the freeman himself. The disorders which generally prevail in the economy of the rich, naturally introduce themselves into the management of the former; the strict frugality and parsimonious attention of the poor as naturally establish themselves in that of the latter. Under such different management, the same purpose must require very different degrees of expense to execute it. It appears, accordingly, from the experience of all ages and nations, I believe, that the work done by freemen comes cheaper in the end than that performed by slaves. It is found to do so even at Boston, New-York, and Philadelphia, where the wages of common labour are so very high.
The liberal reward of labour, therefore, as it is the effect of increasing wealth, so it is the cause of increasing population. To complain of it, is to lament over the necessary cause and effect of the greatest public prosperity.
It deserves to be remarked, perhaps, that it is in the progressive state, while the society is advancing to the further acquisition, rather than when it has acquired its full complement of riches, that the condition of the labouring poor, of the great body of the people, seems to be the happiest and the most comfortable. It is hard in the stationary, and miserable in the declining state. The progressive state is, in reality, the cheerful and the hearty state to all the different orders of the society; the stationary is dull; the declining melancholy.
English
Over the last century, taking one year with another, grain was more expensive in both parts of the united kingdom than it has been during the present century. This is a fact that can no longer reasonably be doubted; and the evidence is, if anything, more conclusive for Scotland than for England. In Scotland it rests on the public fiars: annual valuations, made under oath according to actual market conditions, of every kind of grain in every county. If such direct proof needed supporting evidence, I would point out that the same has been true in France, and probably in most other parts of Europe. For France, the proof is especially clear. Yet while grain was certainly somewhat more expensive in both parts of the united kingdom last century than it is now, labor was just as certainly much cheaper. If working poor families could be raised then, they must be much more comfortable now. In the last century, the usual daily wages for common labor across most of Scotland were sixpence in summer and fivepence in winter. Three shillings a week, almost the same rate, is still paid in some parts of the Highlands and Western islands. Across most of the Low country, ordinary wages for common labor are now eight pence a day; around Edinburgh, in the counties bordering England, probably because of their proximity, and in a few other places where the demand for labor has lately risen considerably—around Glasgow, Carron, Ayrshire, etc.—they are tenpence, sometimes a shilling. Improvements in agriculture, manufactures, and commerce began much earlier in England than in Scotland. As those improvements advanced, the demand for labor, and hence its price, must necessarily have risen. Accordingly, wages were higher in England than in Scotland in the last century, as they are today. They have also risen considerably since then, although the greater variety of local wage rates in England makes it harder to determine by how much. In 1614, a foot soldier received the same pay as today: eightpence a day. When that pay was first fixed, it would naturally have been set by the ordinary wages of common laborers, the class from which foot soldiers generally came. Lord Chief Justice Hales, writing in the time of Charles II, calculates that a laborer's family of six—the father and mother, two children able to do some work, and two unable—needs ten shillings a week, or twenty-six pounds a year, for its expenses. If they cannot earn this by their labor, he supposes they must make up the difference by begging or stealing. He appears to have investigated the matter very carefully [See his scheme for the maintenance of the poor, in Burn’s History of the Poor Laws.]. In 1688, Mr Gregory King, whose skill in political arithmetic is so highly praised by Dr Davenant, calculated the ordinary income of laborers and out-servants at fifteen pounds a year per family, assuming an average family size of three and a half persons. His calculation, though apparently different, therefore agrees quite closely in substance with Judge Hales's. Both put such families' weekly expenses at about twenty-pence per person. Both the money income and the expenses of these families have risen considerably since then in most of the kingdom, more in some places and less in others, though perhaps nowhere as much as certain exaggerated recent accounts of wages would have the public believe. The price of labor, it must be noted, cannot be determined with great precision anywhere: different prices are often paid in the same place for the same kind of work, according not only to the workers' different abilities but also to how easy or exacting their masters are. Where the law does not regulate wages, we can claim to establish only the most usual rate; and experience suggests that the law can never regulate them properly, though it has often claimed to do so.
The real reward of labor—the actual quantity of life's necessities and comforts it can obtain for a laborer—has perhaps increased even more during this century than its money price. Not only has grain become somewhat cheaper, but many other things that give the industrious poor a pleasant and wholesome variety of food have become much cheaper. Potatoes, for instance, now cost less than half what they did thirty or forty years ago throughout most of the kingdom. The same is true of turnips, carrots, and cabbages, formerly grown only with the spade but now commonly grown with the plow. Garden produce of every kind has also become cheaper. In the last century, most of the apples, and even the onions, consumed in Great Britain were imported from Flanders. Great improvements in the manufacture of coarser linen and woolen cloth supply laborers with better and cheaper clothing; improvements in the manufacture of coarser metals provide them with better and cheaper tools of their trades, as well as many pleasant and useful pieces of household furniture. Soap, salt, candles, leather, and fermented drinks have indeed become considerably more expensive, chiefly because of taxes imposed on them. But the amount of these goods that the working poor must consume is so small that the rise in their prices does not offset the fall in the prices of so many others. The familiar complaint that luxury has spread even to the lowest ranks, and that working poor people will no longer accept the food, clothing, and lodging that satisfied them in former times, may convince us that not merely labor's money price but its real reward has increased.
Should this improvement in the condition of the lower ranks be considered an advantage or a disadvantage to society? At first the answer seems perfectly plain. Servants, laborers, and workers of every kind make up by far the greater part of any large political society. What improves the condition of the greater part can never be counted a disadvantage to the whole. Surely no society can flourish and be happy when the great majority of its members are poor and miserable. Justice also requires that those who feed, clothe, and house the whole population should receive enough of the produce of their own labor to be tolerably well fed, clothed, and housed themselves.
Poverty, though it undoubtedly discourages marriage, does not always prevent it. It even seems favorable to childbearing. A half-starved Highland woman often bears more than twenty children, while a pampered lady of fashion is often unable to bear any, and is generally exhausted by two or three. Infertility, so common among fashionable women, is very rare among women of lower station. Luxury in women may inflame the desire for pleasure, yet it seems invariably to weaken, and often altogether to destroy, the power of reproduction.
But while poverty does not prevent children from being born, it is extremely hostile to their upbringing. The tender plant comes forth, only to wither and die quickly in such cold soil and severe weather. I have often been told that in the Scottish Highlands it is not uncommon for a mother who has borne twenty children to have fewer than two still living. Several experienced officers have assured me that the children born to their soldiers have never been numerous enough even to supply their regiments with drummers and fifers, let alone recruits. Yet one seldom sees more fine-looking children anywhere than around soldiers' barracks. Very few, it seems, reach the age of thirteen or fourteen. In some places half the children die before age four, in many before age seven, and in almost all before age nine or ten. This heavy mortality, however, will everywhere be found mainly among the children of common people, who cannot afford the care that people of higher station can provide. Though their marriages generally produce more children than those of the fashionable classes, a smaller proportion reach adulthood. Mortality in foundling hospitals and among children raised by parish charities is higher still than among the children of common people.
Every animal species naturally multiplies according to its means of subsistence, and no species can multiply beyond those means. In civilized society, however, a shortage of subsistence can limit further growth of the human population only among the lower ranks, and only by killing a large proportion of the children born of their fruitful marriages.
A generous reward for labor enables these people to provide better for their children and thus to raise more of them; it naturally tends to push these limits outward. We should also observe that it necessarily does so in as close a proportion as possible to the demand for labor. If that demand continually rises, labor's reward must encourage workers to marry and multiply enough to meet the growing demand with a growing population. Should the reward at any time fall short of what this requires, a shortage of workers would soon raise it; should it exceed that amount, their excessive multiplication would soon bring it down to the necessary rate. Labor would be so scarce in the market in the first case, and so abundant in the second, that its price would soon be forced back to the level required by the condition of society. Thus the demand for human beings, like the demand for any other commodity, necessarily regulates their production: it accelerates that production when it proceeds too slowly and checks it when it proceeds too quickly. This demand governs and determines the state of population growth throughout the world: in North America, in Europe, and in China, making it rapid in the first, slow and gradual in the second, and altogether stationary in the last.
The wear and tear of a slave, it has been said, is paid for by his master, but that of a free servant is paid for by the servant himself. In reality, however, the master bears the cost of the free servant's wear and tear just as much as the slave's. The wages paid to journeymen and servants of every kind must, on average, enable them to perpetuate their numbers as the society's growing, shrinking, or stationary demand requires. Yet although the master pays equally for the wear and tear of a free servant, it generally costs him much less than a slave's. The fund set aside to replace or repair, so to speak, a slave's wear and tear is commonly managed by a negligent master or a careless overseer. The equivalent fund for a free person is managed by that person himself. The wasteful habits that generally govern the affairs of the rich naturally enter the management of the former; the strict thrift and careful economy of the poor just as naturally govern the latter. Under such different management, the same end must entail very different costs. Indeed, the experience of all ages and nations seems to show, I believe, that work done by free people is ultimately cheaper than work done by slaves. This holds even in Boston, New-York, and Philadelphia, where wages for common labor are very high.
A generous reward for labor, therefore, is both an effect of growing wealth and a cause of growing population. To complain of it is to lament a necessary cause and effect of the greatest public prosperity.
Perhaps we should also observe that the working poor, the great body of the people, seem happiest and most comfortable while society is advancing toward greater wealth, rather than after it has acquired its full measure of riches. Their condition is hard in a stationary society and miserable in a declining one. A society on the rise is, in truth, cheerful and vigorous for all its ranks; a stationary society is dull, and a declining one melancholy.
Book I, Chapter VIII, 4
18th-century English
The liberal reward of labour, as it encourages the propagation, so it increases the industry of the common people. The wages of labour are the encouragement of industry, which, like every other human quality, improves in proportion to the encouragement it receives. A plentiful subsistence increases the bodily strength of the labourer, and the comfortable hope of bettering his condition, and of ending his days, perhaps, in ease and plenty, animates him to exert that strength to the utmost. Where wages are high, accordingly, we shall always find the workmen more active, diligent, and expeditious, than where they are low; in England, for example, than in Scotland; in the neighbourhood of great towns, than in remote country places. Some workmen, indeed, when they can earn in four days what will maintain them through the week, will be idle the other three. This, however, is by no means the case with the greater part. Workmen, on the contrary, when they are liberally paid by the piece, are very apt to overwork themselves, and to ruin their health and constitution in a few years. A carpenter in London, and in some other places, is not supposed to last in his utmost vigour above eight years. Something of the same kind happens in many other trades, in which the workmen are paid by the piece; as they generally are in manufactures, and even in country labour, wherever wages are higher than ordinary. Almost every class of artificers is subject to some peculiar infirmity occasioned by excessive application to their peculiar species of work. Ramuzzini, an eminent Italian physician, has written a particular book concerning such diseases. We do not reckon our soldiers the most industrious set of people among us; yet when soldiers have been employed in some particular sorts of work, and liberally paid by the piece, their officers have frequently been obliged to stipulate with the undertaker, that they should not be allowed to earn above a certain sum every day, according to the rate at which they were paid. Till this stipulation was made, mutual emulation, and the desire of greater gain, frequently prompted them to overwork themselves, and to hurt their health by excessive labour. Excessive application, during four days of the week, is frequently the real cause of the idleness of the other three, so much and so loudly complained of. Great labour, either of mind or body, continued for several days together is, in most men, naturally followed by a great desire of relaxation, which, if not restrained by force, or by some strong necessity, is almost irresistible. It is the call of nature, which requires to be relieved by some indulgence, sometimes of ease only, but sometimes too of dissipation and diversion. If it is not complied with, the consequences are often dangerous and sometimes fatal, and such as almost always, sooner or later, bring on the peculiar infirmity of the trade. If masters would always listen to the dictates of reason and humanity, they have frequently occasion rather to moderate, than to animate the application of many of their workmen. It will be found, I believe, in every sort of trade, that the man who works so moderately, as to be able to work constantly, not only preserves his health the longest, but, in the course of the year, executes the greatest quantity of work.
In cheap years it is pretended, workmen are generally more idle, and in dear times more industrious than ordinary. A plentiful subsistence, therefore, it has been concluded, relaxes, and a scanty one quickens their industry. That a little more plenty than ordinary may render some workmen idle, cannot be well doubted; but that it should have this effect upon the greater part, or that men in general should work better when they are ill fed, than when they are well fed, when they are disheartened than when they are in good spirits, when they are frequently sick than when they are generally in good health, seems not very probable. Years of dearth, it is to be observed, are generally among the common people years of sickness and mortality, which cannot fail to diminish the produce of their industry.
In years of plenty, servants frequently leave their masters, and trust their subsistence to what they can make by their own industry. But the same cheapness of provisions, by increasing the fund which is destined for the maintenance of servants, encourages masters, farmers especially, to employ a greater number. Farmers, upon such occasions, expect more profit from their corn by maintaining a few more labouring servants, than by selling it at a low price in the market. The demand for servants increases, while the number of those who offer to supply that demand diminishes. The price of labour, therefore, frequently rises in cheap years.
In years of scarcity, the difficulty and uncertainty of subsistence make all such people eager to return to service. But the high price of provisions, by diminishing the funds destined for the maintenance of servants, disposes masters rather to diminish than to increase the number of those they have. In dear years, too, poor independent workmen frequently consume the little stock with which they had used to supply themselves with the materials of their work, and are obliged to become journeymen for subsistence. More people want employment than easily get it; many are willing to take it upon lower terms than ordinary; and the wages of both servants and journeymen frequently sink in dear years.
Masters of all sorts, therefore, frequently make better bargains with their servants in dear than in cheap years, and find them more humble and dependent in the former than in the latter. They naturally, therefore, commend the former as more favourable to industry. Landlords and farmers, besides, two of the largest classes of masters, have another reason for being pleased with dear years. The rents of the one, and the profits of the other, depend very much upon the price of provisions. Nothing can be more absurd, however, than to imagine that men in general should work less when they work for themselves, than when they work for other people. A poor independent workman will generally be more industrious than even a journeyman who works by the piece. The one enjoys the whole produce of his own industry, the other shares it with his master. The one, in his separate independent state, is less liable to the temptations of bad company, which, in large manufactories, so frequently ruin the morals of the other. The superiority of the independent workman over those servants who are hired by the month or by the year, and whose wages and maintenance are the same, whether they do much or do little, is likely to be still greater. Cheap years tend to increase the proportion of independent workmen to journeymen and servants of all kinds, and dear years to diminish it.
A French author of great knowledge and ingenuity, Mr Messance, receiver of the tallies in the election of St Etienne, endeavours to shew that the poor do more work in cheap than in dear years, by comparing the quantity and value of the goods made upon those different occasions in three different manufactures; one of coarse woollens, carried on at Elbeuf; one of linen, and another of silk, both which extend through the whole generality of Rouen. It appears from his account, which is copied from the registers of the public offices, that the quantity and value of the goods made in all those three manufactories has generally been greater in cheap than in dear years, and that it has always been greatest in the cheapest, and least in the dearest years. All the three seem to be stationary manufactures, or which, though their produce may vary somewhat from year to year, are, upon the whole, neither going backwards nor forwards.
The manufacture of linen in Scotland, and that of coarse woollens in the West Riding of Yorkshire, are growing manufactures, of which the produce is generally, though with some variations, increasing both in quantity and value. Upon examining, however, the accounts which have been published of their annual produce, I have not been able to observe that its variations have had any sensible connection with the dearness or cheapness of the seasons. In 1740, a year of great scarcity, both manufactures, indeed, appear to have declined very considerably. But in 1756, another year of great scarcity, the Scotch manufactures made more than ordinary advances. The Yorkshire manufacture, indeed, declined, and its produce did not rise to what it had been in 1755, till 1766, after the repeal of the American stamp act. In that and the following year, it greatly exceeded what it had ever been before, and it has continued to advance ever since.
The produce of all great manufactures for distant sale must necessarily depend, not so much upon the dearness or cheapness of the seasons in the countries where they are carried on, as upon the circumstances which affect the demand in the countries where they are consumed; upon peace or war, upon the prosperity or declension of other rival manufactures and upon the good or bad humour of their principal customers. A great part of the extraordinary work, besides, which is probably done in cheap years, never enters the public registers of manufactures. The men-servants, who leave their masters, become independent labourers. The women return to their parents, and commonly spin, in order to make clothes for themselves and their families. Even the independent workmen do not always work for public sale, but are employed by some of their neighbours in manufactures for family use. The produce of their labour, therefore, frequently makes no figure in those public registers, of which the records are sometimes published with so much parade, and from which our merchants and manufacturers would often vainly pretend to announce the prosperity or declension of the greatest empires.
Though the variations in the price of labour not only do not always correspond with those in the price of provisions, but are frequently quite opposite, we must not, upon this account, imagine that the price of provisions has no influence upon that of labour. The money price of labour is necessarily regulated by two circumstances; the demand for labour, and the price of the necessaries and conveniencies of life. The demand for labour, according as it happens to be increasing, stationary, or declining, or to require an increasing, stationary, or declining population, determines the quantities of the necessaries and conveniencies of life which must be given to the labourer; and the money price of labour is determined by what is requisite for purchasing this quantity. Though the money price of labour, therefore, is sometimes high where the price of provisions is low, it would be still higher, the demand continuing the same, if the price of provisions was high.
It is because the demand for labour increases in years of sudden and extraordinary plenty, and diminishes in those of sudden and extraordinary scarcity, that the money price of labour sometimes rises in the one, and sinks in the other.
In a year of sudden and extraordinary plenty, there are funds in the hands of many of the employers of industry, sufficient to maintain and employ a greater number of industrious people than had been employed the year before; and this extraordinary number cannot always be had. Those masters, therefore, who want more workmen, bid against one another, in order to get them, which sometimes raises both the real and the money price of their labour.
The contrary of this happens in a year of sudden and extraordinary scarcity. The funds destined for employing industry are less than they had been the year before. A considerable number of people are thrown out of employment, who bid one against another, in order to get it, which sometimes lowers both the real and the money price of labour. In 1740, a year of extraordinary scarcity, many people were willing to work for bare subsistence. In the succeeding years of plenty, it was more difficult to get labourers and servants. The scarcity of a dear year, by diminishing the demand for labour, tends to lower its price, as the high price of provisions tends to raise it. The plenty of a cheap year, on the contrary, by increasing the demand, tends to raise the price of labour, as the cheapness of provisions tends to lower it. In the ordinary variations of the prices of provisions, those two opposite causes seem to counterbalance one another, which is probably, in part, the reason why the wages of labour are everywhere so much more steady and permanent than the price of provisions.
The increase in the wages of labour necessarily increases the price of many commodities, by increasing that part of it which resolves itself into wages, and so far tends to diminish their consumption, both at home and abroad. The same cause, however, which raises the wages of labour, the increase of stock, tends to increase its productive powers, and to make a smaller quantity of labour produce a greater quantity of work. The owner of the stock which employs a great number of labourers necessarily endeavours, for his own advantage, to make such a proper division and distribution of employment, that they may be enabled to produce the greatest quantity of work possible. For the same reason, he endeavours to supply them with the best machinery which either he or they can think of. What takes place among the labourers in a particular workhouse, takes place, for the same reason, among those of a great society. The greater their number, the more they naturally divide themselves into different classes and subdivisions of employments. More heads are occupied in inventing the most proper machinery for executing the work of each, and it is, therefore, more likely to be invented. There are many commodities, therefore, which, in consequence of these improvements, come to be produced by so much less labour than before, that the increase of its price is more than compensated by the diminution of its quantity.
English
A generous reward for labor not only encourages population growth but also increases the industry of ordinary people. Wages encourage industry, which, like any other human quality, grows stronger in proportion to the encouragement it receives. Abundant food increases a laborer's physical strength; the comforting hope of improving his condition, perhaps of ending his days in ease and plenty, inspires him to exert that strength to the fullest. Where wages are high, therefore, we shall always find workers more active, diligent, and swift than where wages are low: in England, for example, rather than Scotland, and near great towns rather than in remote rural districts. Some workers, admittedly, will be idle for three days if they can earn enough in four to live for the week. But this is by no means true of the majority. On the contrary, when workers receive generous payment by the piece, they are very apt to overwork and ruin their health and constitution within a few years. A carpenter in London and some other places is not expected to retain his full vigor beyond eight years. Something similar occurs in many other trades paid by the piece, as workers generally are in manufactures, and even in rural labor wherever wages are unusually high. Almost every class of craftspeople suffers some particular ailment caused by excessive exertion at its particular work. Ramuzzini, an eminent Italian physician, has written a book specifically about these diseases. We do not regard our soldiers as our most industrious people. Yet when soldiers have been assigned particular kinds of work and generously paid by the piece, their officers have often had to agree with the contractor that they would not be allowed to earn more than a certain sum per day at the agreed rate. Before this condition was imposed, competition among themselves and the desire for higher earnings often led them to overwork and damage their health through excessive labor. The much-decried idleness of the other three days is frequently the real consequence of overexertion during four days of the week. After several consecutive days of hard work, whether mental or physical, most people naturally feel a powerful desire for rest, almost impossible to resist without force or some pressing necessity. Nature calls for relief through some indulgence—sometimes mere rest, sometimes amusement and diversion. If that call is ignored, the consequences are often dangerous and sometimes fatal; sooner or later they almost always bring on the ailment particular to the trade. If masters always heeded reason and humanity, they would often have cause to restrain, rather than spur on, the exertions of many of their workers. In every trade, I believe, we shall find that the person who works moderately enough to work steadily not only remains healthy longest but also accomplishes the most work over the year.
It is claimed that workers are generally idler in years when provisions are cheap, and more industrious than usual when provisions are expensive. From this it has been concluded that abundant subsistence slackens their industry while scarce subsistence stimulates it. We can hardly doubt that somewhat more plenty than usual may make some workers idle. But it seems highly improbable that it has this effect on most of them, or that people in general work better poorly fed than well fed, disheartened than hopeful, often sick than usually healthy. We should remember that years of scarcity are generally years of sickness and death among ordinary people, inevitably reducing the produce of their industry.
In years of plenty, servants often leave their masters and trust to their own industry for a living. But cheap provisions also increase the fund available for maintaining servants, encouraging masters, especially farmers, to hire more of them. On such occasions, farmers expect to profit more from their grain by feeding a few additional laboring servants than by selling it cheaply in the market. Demand for servants rises while the number willing to serve falls. Thus the price of labor often rises when provisions are cheap.
In years of scarcity, the difficulty and uncertainty of earning a living make all these people eager to return to service. But expensive provisions diminish the funds available to maintain servants, prompting masters to reduce rather than increase their numbers. In years of high prices, too, poor independent workers often use up the little stock from which they had supplied the materials of their work, and must become journeymen in order to live. More people seek employment than can readily find it; many will accept lower terms than usual; and the wages of servants and journeymen often fall when provisions are dear.
Masters of every kind therefore frequently bargain better with servants in dear years than in cheap ones, finding them humbler and more dependent in the former. They naturally praise dear years as more favorable to industry. Landlords and farmers, two of the largest classes of masters, have another reason to favor high prices: the rents of the first and the profits of the second depend heavily on the price of provisions. Yet nothing could be more absurd than to suppose that people generally work less diligently for themselves than for others. A poor independent worker will generally be more industrious even than a journeyman paid by the piece. The former keeps the entire produce of his industry; the latter shares it with his master. Working separately and independently, the former is also less exposed to the temptations of bad company, which so often corrupt the morals of workers in large manufactories. His advantage over servants hired by the month or year, whose wages and maintenance remain the same whether they do much or little, is likely greater still. Cheap years tend to increase the proportion of independent workers to journeymen and servants of every kind; dear years tend to reduce it.
Mr Messance, a French writer of great knowledge and ingenuity and receiver of the tallies in the election of St Etienne, tries to show that the poor do more work in cheap years than in dear ones by comparing the quantity and value of goods made in three manufactures under each set of conditions: coarse woolens at Elbeuf, and linen and silk throughout the whole generality of Rouen. His account, copied from the registers of public offices, shows that both the quantity and the value of goods made in all three manufactures have generally been greater in cheap years than in dear ones, always greatest in the cheapest years and least in the dearest. All three appear to be stationary manufactures: although their output may vary somewhat from year to year, on the whole they are neither expanding nor contracting.
Linen manufacture in Scotland and coarse woolen manufacture in the West Riding of Yorkshire are growing industries, whose output generally increases in both quantity and value, despite some fluctuations. Having examined the published accounts of their annual output, however, I have found no discernible connection between its fluctuations and whether provisions in a given season were dear or cheap. In 1740, a year of severe scarcity, both industries do appear to have contracted considerably. But in 1756, another year of severe scarcity, Scottish manufactures advanced more than usual. The Yorkshire industry did decline, and its output did not regain its 1755 level until 1766, after the repeal of the American stamp act. In that year and the next, its output far surpassed anything it had achieved before, and it has continued to advance ever since.
The output of all major manufactures intended for distant sale must depend less on whether provisions are dear or cheap where the goods are made than on the circumstances shaping demand where they are consumed: peace or war, the prosperity or decline of rival manufactures, and the good or bad humor of their principal customers. Moreover, much of the extraordinary work probably done in cheap years never enters the public registers of manufactures. Male servants who leave their masters become independent laborers. Women return to their parents and commonly spin to make clothing for themselves and their families. Even independent workers do not always produce goods for public sale; some are employed by neighbors to make goods for household use. Their output therefore often leaves no trace in those public registers whose records are sometimes published with such fanfare and from which our merchants and manufacturers often vainly claim to pronounce on the prosperity or decline of the greatest empires.
Although changes in the price of labor do not always match changes in the price of provisions, and often move in the opposite direction, we must not conclude that food prices have no effect on wages. Labor's money price is necessarily governed by two circumstances: demand for labor and the price of life's necessities and comforts. Whether the demand for labor is growing, stationary, or declining, and accordingly calls for a growing, stationary, or declining population, determines how much of these necessities and comforts a laborer must be given; what is required to purchase that amount determines his money wage. Thus although the money price of labor is sometimes high when provisions are cheap, it would be higher still, if demand remained the same, when provisions were expensive.
The money price of labor sometimes rises in years of sudden, extraordinary plenty and falls in years of sudden, extraordinary scarcity because demand for labor rises in the former and falls in the latter.
In a year of sudden and extraordinary plenty, many employers possess funds sufficient to maintain and employ more industrious people than they employed the year before; the additional workers cannot always be found. Masters seeking more workers therefore bid against one another to secure them, sometimes raising both the real and the money price of labor.
The reverse occurs in a year of sudden and extraordinary scarcity. The funds available to employ workers are smaller than the year before. Many people lose their employment and bid against one another to obtain work, sometimes lowering both the real and the money price of labor. In 1740, a year of extraordinary scarcity, many people were prepared to work for mere subsistence. In the years of plenty that followed, finding laborers and servants became more difficult. The scarcity of a dear year reduces demand for labor and tends to lower its price, while expensive provisions tend to raise it. Conversely, the plenty of a cheap year increases demand for labor and tends to raise its price, while cheaper provisions tend to lower it. In ordinary fluctuations of food prices, these opposing forces appear to counterbalance each other. This is probably one reason wages everywhere are so much steadier and more enduring than the price of provisions.
Higher wages necessarily raise the price of many commodities by increasing the portion of that price paid as wages, and to that extent tend to reduce consumption at home and abroad. Yet the same cause that raises wages—an increase of stock—also tends to make labor more productive, allowing a smaller amount of labor to accomplish more work. The owner of stock employing many laborers necessarily tries, for his own benefit, to divide and allocate their tasks so that they can accomplish as much work as possible. For the same reason, he tries to provide the best machinery that he or they can devise. What occurs among the workers in a particular workhouse occurs for the same reason among those in a large society. The more numerous the workers, the more naturally they divide into distinct classes and subdivisions of employment. More minds turn to inventing the machinery best suited to each task, making its invention more likely. As a result of these improvements, many commodities come to be produced with so much less labor than before that the reduction in its quantity more than offsets the increase in its price.
Book I, Chapter IX, 1
18th-century English
OF THE PROFITS OF STOCK.
The rise and fall in the profits of stock depend upon the same causes with the rise and fall in the wages of labour, the increasing or declining state of the wealth of the society; but those causes affect the one and the other very differently.
The increase of stock, which raises wages, tends to lower profit. When the stocks of many rich merchants are turned into the same trade, their mutual competition naturally tends to lower its profit; and when there is a like increase of stock in all the different trades carried on in the same society, the same competition must produce the same effect in them all.
It is not easy, it has already been observed, to ascertain what are the average wages of labour, even in a particular place, and at a particular time. We can, even in this case, seldom determine more than what are the most usual wages. But even this can seldom be done with regard to the profits of stock. Profit is so very fluctuating, that the person who carries on a particular trade, cannot always tell you himself what is the average of his annual profit. It is affected, not only by every variation of price in the commodities which he deals in, but by the good or bad fortune both of his rivals and of his customers, and by a thousand other accidents, to which goods, when carried either by sea or by land, or even when stored in a warehouse, are liable. It varies, therefore, not only from year to year, but from day to day, and almost from hour to hour. To ascertain what is the average profit of all the different trades carried on in a great kingdom, must be much more difficult; and to judge of what it may have been formerly, or in remote periods of time, with any degree of precision, must be altogether impossible.
But though it may be impossible to determine, with any degree of precision, what are or were the average profits of stock, either in the present or in ancient times, some notion may be formed of them from the interest of money. It may be laid down as a maxim, that wherever a great deal can be made by the use of money, a great deal will commonly be given for the use of it; and that, wherever little can be made by it, less will commonly he given for it. Accordingly, therefore, as the usual market rate of interest varies in any country, we may be assured that the ordinary profits of stock must vary with it, must sink as it sinks, and rise as it rises. The progress of interest, therefore, may lead us to form some notion of the progress of profit.
By the 37th of Henry VIII. all interest above ten per cent. was declared unlawful. More, it seems, had sometimes been taken before that. In the reign of Edward VI. religious zeal prohibited all interest. This prohibition, however, like all others of the same kind, is said to have produced no effect, and probably rather increased than diminished the evil of usury. The statute of Henry VIII. was revived by the 13th of Elizabeth, cap. 8. and ten per cent. continued to be the legal rate of interest till the 21st of James I. when it was restricted to eight per cent. It was reduced to six per cent. soon after the Restoration, and by the 12th of Queen Anne, to five per cent. All these different statutory regulations seem to have been made with great propriety. They seem to have followed, and not to have gone before, the market rate of interest, or the rate at which people of good credit usually borrowed. Since the time of Queen Anne, five per cent. seems to have been rather above than below the market rate. Before the late war, the government borrowed at three per cent.; and people of good credit in the capital, and in many other parts of the kingdom, at three and a-half, four, and four and a-half per cent.
Since the time of Henry VIII. the wealth and revenue of the country have been continually advancing, and in the course of their progress, their pace seems rather to have been gradually accelerated than retarded. They seem not only to have been going on, but to have been going on faster and faster. The wages of labour have been continually increasing during the same period, and, in the greater part of the different branches of trade and manufactures, the profits of stock have been diminishing.
It generally requires a greater stock to carry on any sort of trade in a great town than in a country village. The great stocks employed in every branch of trade, and the number of rich competitors, generally reduce the rate of profit in the former below what it is in the latter. But the wages of labour are generally higher in a great town than in a country village. In a thriving town, the people who have great stocks to employ, frequently cannot get the number of workmen they want, and therefore bid against one another, in order to get as many as they can, which raises the wages of labour, and lowers the profits of stock. In the remote parts of the country, there is frequently not stock sufficient to employ all the people, who therefore bid against one another, in order to get employment, which lowers the wages of labour, and raises the profits of stock.
In Scotland, though the legal rate of interest is the same as in England, the market rate is rather higher. People of the best credit there seldom borrow under five per cent. Even private bankers in Edinburgh give four per cent. upon their promissory-notes, of which payment, either in whole or in part may be demanded at pleasure. Private bankers in London give no interest for the money which is deposited with them. There are few trades which cannot be carried on with a smaller stock in Scotland than in England. The common rate of profit, therefore, must be somewhat greater. The wages of labour, it has already been observed, are lower in Scotland than in England. The country, too, is not only much poorer, but the steps by which it advances to a better condition, for it is evidently advancing, seem to be much slower and more tardy. The legal rate of interest in France has not during the course of the present century, been always regulated by the market rate {See Denisart, Article Taux des Interests, tom. iii, p.13}. In 1720, interest was reduced from the twentieth to the fiftieth penny, or from five to two per cent. In 1724, it was raised to the thirtieth penny, or to three and a third per cent. In 1725, it was again raised to the twentieth penny, or to five per cent. In 1766, during the administration of Mr Laverdy, it was reduced to the twenty-fifth penny, or to four per cent. The Abbé Terray raised it afterwards to the old rate of five per cent. The supposed purpose of many of those violent reductions of interest was to prepare the way for reducing that of the public debts; a purpose which has sometimes been executed. France is, perhaps, in the present times, not so rich a country as England; and though the legal rate of interest has in France frequently been lower than in England, the market rate has generally been higher; for there, as in other countries, they have several very safe and easy methods of evading the law. The profits of trade, I have been assured by British merchants who had traded in both countries, are higher in France than in England; and it is no doubt upon this account, that many British subjects chuse rather to employ their capitals in a country where trade is in disgrace, than in one where it is highly respected. The wages of labour are lower in France than in England. When you go from Scotland to England, the difference which you may remark between the dress and countenance of the common people in the one country and in the other, sufficiently indicates the difference in their condition. The contrast is still greater when you return from France. France, though no doubt a richer country than Scotland, seems not to be going forward so fast. It is a common and even a popular opinion in the country, that it is going backwards; an opinion which I apprehend, is ill-founded, even with regard to France, but which nobody can possibly entertain with regard to Scotland, who sees the country now, and who saw it twenty or thirty years ago.
The province of Holland, on the other hand, in proportion to the extent of its territory and the number of its people, is a richer country than England. The government there borrow at two per cent. and private people of good credit at three. The wages of labour are said to be higher in Holland than in England, and the Dutch, it is well known, trade upon lower profits than any people in Europe. The trade of Holland, it has been pretended by some people, is decaying, and it may perhaps be true that some particular branches of it are so; but these symptoms seem to indicate sufficiently that there is no general decay. When profit diminishes, merchants are very apt to complain that trade decays, though the diminution of profit is the natural effect of its prosperity, or of a greater stock being employed in it than before. During the late war, the Dutch gained the whole carrying trade of France, of which they still retain a very large share. The great property which they possess both in French and English funds, about forty millions, it is said in the latter (in which, I suspect, however, there is a considerable exaggeration ), the great sums which they lend to private people, in countries where the rate of interest is higher than in their own, are circumstances which no doubt demonstrate the redundancy of their stock, or that it has increased beyond what they can employ with tolerable profit in the proper business of their own country; but they do not demonstrate that that business has decreased. As the capital of a private man, though acquired by a particular trade, may increase beyond what he can employ in it, and yet that trade continue to increase too, so may likewise the capital of a great nation.
In our North American and West Indian colonies, not only the wages of labour, but the interest of money, and consequently the profits of stock, are higher than in England. In the different colonies, both the legal and the market rate of interest run from six to eight percent. High wages of labour and high profits of stock, however, are things, perhaps, which scarce ever go together, except in the peculiar circumstances of new colonies. A new colony must always, for some time, be more understocked in proportion to the extent of its territory, and more underpeopled in proportion to the extent of its stock, than the greater part of other countries. They have more land than they have stock to cultivate. What they have, therefore, is applied to the cultivation only of what is most fertile and most favourably situated, the land near the sea-shore, and along the banks of navigable rivers. Such land, too, is frequently purchased at a price below the value even of its natural produce. Stock employed in the purchase and improvement of such lands, must yield a very large profit, and, consequently, afford to pay a very large interest. Its rapid accumulation in so profitable an employment enables the planter to increase the number of his hands faster than he can find them in a new settlement. Those whom he can find, therefore, are very liberally rewarded. As the colony increases, the profits of stock gradually diminish. When the most fertile and best situated lands have been all occupied, less profit can be made by the cultivation of what is inferior both in soil and situation, and less interest can be afforded for the stock which is so employed. In the greater part of our colonies, accordingly, both the legal and the market rate of interest have been considerably reduced during the course of the present century. As riches, improvement, and population, have increased, interest has declined. The wages of labour do not sink with the profits of stock. The demand for labour increases with the increase of stock, whatever be its profits; and after these are diminished, stock may not only continue to increase, but to increase much faster than before. It is with industrious nations, who are advancing in the acquisition of riches, as with industrious individuals. A great stock, though with small profits, generally increases faster than a small stock with great profits. Money, says the proverb, makes money. When you have got a little, it is often easy to get more. The great difficulty is to get that little. The connection between the increase of stock and that of industry, or of the demand for useful labour, has partly been explained already, but will be explained more fully hereafter, in treating of the accumulation of stock.
English
On the Profits of Stock.
The rise and fall of profits on stock depend on the same causes as the rise and fall of wages—the growth or decline of a society's wealth—but those causes affect profits and wages very differently.
The increase in stock that raises wages tends to reduce profits. When many wealthy merchants invest their stocks in the same trade, competition among them naturally tends to reduce its profits; and when stock increases similarly across all the trades in a society, the same competition must have the same effect in every one.
It is not easy, as already observed, to determine the average wages of labor even in a particular place at a particular time. Even then we can seldom establish more than the usual wage. But with profits on stock, even that is seldom possible. Profit fluctuates so much that a person engaged in a particular trade cannot always say what his own average annual profit is. It is affected not only by every change in the prices of the goods he deals in, but by the good or bad fortune of his competitors and customers, and by countless accidents to which goods are exposed at sea, on land, and even in a warehouse. Profit therefore varies not only from year to year but from day to day, almost from hour to hour. It must be far harder to determine the average profit of all the different trades in a great kingdom; and it must be altogether impossible to estimate with any precision what that average was formerly or in distant ages.
Yet although the average profits on stock, past or present, cannot be determined with any precision, the interest charged on money may give us some idea of them. We may take it as a principle that wherever the use of money can yield a great deal, people will commonly pay a great deal to use it; wherever it can yield little, they will commonly pay less. We may therefore be sure that, as the customary market rate of interest changes in a country, ordinary profits on stock change with it, falling when it falls and rising when it rises. The course of interest can thus give us some idea of the course of profit.
By the 37th of Henry VIII, all interest above ten per cent. was declared unlawful. Higher rates, it seems, had sometimes been charged before then. During the reign of Edward VI, religious zeal prohibited interest altogether. That ban, however, like all others of its kind, is said to have had no effect, and probably made the evil of usury worse rather than better. The statute of Henry VIII was revived by the 13th of Elizabeth, cap. 8. and ten per cent. remained the legal rate of interest until the 21st of James I, when it was limited to eight per cent. It was reduced to six per cent. soon after the Restoration, and to five per cent. by the 12th of Queen Anne. All these statutory changes seem to have been made with excellent judgment. They appear to have followed the market rate of interest—the rate at which creditworthy people usually borrowed—rather than anticipated it. Since Queen Anne's time, five per cent. seems to have been slightly above rather than below the market rate. Before the late war, the government borrowed at three per cent.; creditworthy people in the capital and in many other parts of the kingdom borrowed at three and a-half, four, and four and a-half per cent.
Since the time of Henry VIII, the country's wealth and revenue have continued to grow, and their advance seems gradually to have accelerated rather than slowed. They have not merely kept growing but grown faster and faster. Wages have risen throughout the same period, while profits on stock have declined in most branches of trade and manufacture.
Any trade generally requires more stock in a large town than in a country village. The large stocks invested in every branch of trade, and the number of wealthy competitors, generally push profits in the town below those in the village. Yet wages are generally higher in a large town. In a thriving town, those with large stocks to employ often cannot find all the workers they want. They therefore bid against one another to hire as many as they can, raising wages and lowering profits on stock. In remote rural areas, there is often not enough stock to employ everyone. People then bid against one another for jobs, lowering wages and raising profits on stock.
Although the legal rate of interest in Scotland is the same as in England, its market rate is somewhat higher. Even those with the best credit in Scotland seldom borrow at less than five per cent. Private bankers in Edinburgh pay four per cent. on their promissory-notes, which can be presented for payment, in whole or in part, at any time. Private bankers in London pay no interest on money deposited with them. Few trades cannot be conducted with less stock in Scotland than in England. The ordinary rate of profit must therefore be somewhat higher. As already observed, wages are lower in Scotland than in England. Scotland is not merely much poorer: the steps by which it advances toward a better condition—and it clearly is advancing—also seem much slower. The legal rate of interest in France has not always followed the market rate during this century [See Denisart, Article Taux des Interests, tom. iii, p.13]. In 1720, the rate was reduced from the twentieth to the fiftieth penny, or from five to two per cent. In 1724, it was raised to the thirtieth penny, or to three and a third per cent. In 1725, it rose again to the twentieth penny, or to five per cent. In 1766, under the administration of Mr Laverdy, it was reduced to the twenty-fifth penny, or to four per cent. The Abbé Terray later raised it to the former rate of five per cent. Many of these drastic reductions in interest were supposedly intended to prepare for a reduction in interest on the public debts—an aim sometimes achieved. France today may not be as wealthy as England. Although its legal interest rate has often been lower than England's, the market rate has generally been higher, for people there, as elsewhere, have several easy and very safe ways around the law. British merchants who have traded in both countries assure me that trading profits are higher in France than in England. This must explain why many British subjects prefer to invest their capitals in a country where trade is despised rather than one where it is highly respected. Wages, too, are lower in France than in England. When you pass from Scotland into England, the difference you can see in ordinary people's dress and faces sufficiently shows the difference in their condition. The contrast is greater still when you return from France. Though France is undoubtedly wealthier than Scotland, it seems to advance less rapidly. A common, even popular, opinion in France is that the country is declining. I believe that opinion unfounded even for France; but no one who sees Scotland now and saw it twenty or thirty years ago could possibly hold it about Scotland.
The province of Holland, on the other hand, is wealthier than England in proportion to its territory and population. Its government borrows at two per cent., and private borrowers of good credit at three. Wages are said to be higher in Holland than in England, and the Dutch, as everyone knows, trade on lower profits than any other Europeans. Some have claimed that Dutch trade is declining, and certain branches may well be doing so; but these signs sufficiently show that there is no general decline. When profit falls, merchants are apt to complain that trade is decaying, though falling profit is the natural consequence of prosperity in trade, or of more stock being employed in it than before. During the late war, the Dutch took over all France's carrying trade and still retain a very large share. Their great holdings in both French and English funds—about forty millions in the latter, it is said, though I suspect this is considerably exaggerated—and the great sums they lend to private individuals in countries where interest rates are higher than their own, certainly show that their stock is abundant, having grown beyond what they can invest at a reasonable profit in their country's own business. But they do not show that this business has contracted. An individual's capital may grow beyond what he can invest in the particular trade that produced it even while that trade continues to grow; the same is true of the capital of a great nation.
In our North American and West Indian colonies, not only wages but interest rates, and consequently profits on stock, are higher than in England. Across the colonies, both legal and market interest rates range from six to eight percent. High wages and high profits, however, scarcely ever occur together except under the special conditions of new colonies. For some time, a new colony must have too little stock relative to its land, and too few people relative to its stock, compared with most other countries. Its settlers have more land than they have stock to cultivate it. They therefore apply what stock they possess only to the most fertile and favorably situated land, near the seashore and along navigable rivers. Such land, moreover, is often bought for less than the value even of its natural produce. Stock invested in buying and improving this land must yield very large profits, and can consequently bear very high interest. Its swift accumulation in such profitable use enables the planter to expand his workforce faster than he can find workers in a new settlement. The people he does find are thus generously rewarded. As the colony grows, profits on stock gradually fall. Once the most fertile and best-placed lands have all been taken, less profit can be earned by cultivating land inferior in both soil and situation, and less interest can be paid on stock employed there. Accordingly, in most of our colonies both legal and market interest rates have fallen considerably during the present century. As wealth, improvement, and population have grown, interest has declined. Wages do not fall with profits on stock. Demand for labor grows as stock grows, however small its profits; and even after profits fall, stock can continue growing, and may grow much faster than before. What holds for industrious individuals holds for industrious nations advancing in wealth. A large stock with small profits generally grows faster than a small stock with large profits. Money, as the proverb says, makes money. Once you have a little, it is often easy to get more. The great difficulty is getting that little. The connection between the growth of stock and the growth of industry, or demand for productive labor, has already been partly explained, and will be explained more fully later in the discussion of the accumulation of stock.
Book I, Chapter IX, 2
18th-century English
The acquisition of new territory, or of new branches of trade, may sometimes raise the profits of stock, and with them the interest of money, even in a country which is fast advancing in the acquisition of riches. The stock of the country, not being sufficient for the whole accession of business which such acquisitions present to the different people among whom it is divided, is applied to those particular branches only which afford the greatest profit. Part of what had before been employed in other trades, is necessarily withdrawn from them, and turned into some of the new and more profitable ones. In all those old trades, therefore, the competition comes to be less than before. The market comes to be less fully supplied with many different sorts of goods. Their price necessarily rises more or less, and yields a greater profit to those who deal in them, who can, therefore, afford to borrow at a higher interest. For some time after the conclusion of the late war, not only private people of the best credit, but some of the greatest companies in London, commonly borrowed at five per cent. who, before that, had not been used to pay more than four, and four and a half per cent. The great accession both of territory and trade by our acquisitions in North America and the West Indies, will sufficiently account for this, without supposing any diminution in the capital stock of the society. So great an accession of new business to be carried on by the old stock, must necessarily have diminished the quantity employed in a great number of particular branches, in which the competition being less, the profits must have been greater. I shall hereafter have occasion to mention the reasons which dispose me to believe that the capital stock of Great Britain was not diminished, even by the enormous expense of the late war.
The diminution of the capital stock of the society, or of the funds destined for the maintenance of industry, however, as it lowers the wages of labour, so it raises the profits of stock, and consequently the interest of money. By the wages of labour being lowered, the owners of what stock remains in the society can bring their goods at less expense to market than before; and less stock being employed in supplying the market than before, they can sell them dearer. Their goods cost them less, and they get more for them. Their profits, therefore, being augmented at both ends, can well afford a large interest. The great fortunes so suddenly and so easily acquired in Bengal and the other British settlements in the East Indies, may satisfy us, that as the wages of labour are very low, so the profits of stock are very high in those ruined countries. The interest of money is proportionably so. In Bengal, money is frequently lent to the farmers at forty, fifty, and sixty per cent. and the succeeding crop is mortgaged for the payment. As the profits which can afford such an interest must eat up almost the whole rent of the landlord, so such enormous usury must in its turn eat up the greater part of those profits. Before the fall of the Roman republic, a usury of the same kind seems to have been common in the provinces, under the ruinous administration of their proconsuls. The virtuous Brutus lent money in Cyprus at eight-and-forty per cent. as we learn from the letters of Cicero.
In a country which had acquired that full complement of riches which the nature of its soil and climate, and its situation with respect to other countries, allowed it to acquire, which could, therefore, advance no further, and which was not going backwards, both the wages of labour and the profits of stock would probably be very low. In a country fully peopled in proportion to what either its territory could maintain, or its stock employ, the competition for employment would necessarily be so great as to reduce the wages of labour to what was barely sufficient to keep up the number of labourers, and the country being already fully peopled, that number could never be augmented. In a country fully stocked in proportion to all the business it had to transact, as great a quantity of stock would be employed in every particular branch as the nature and extent of the trade would admit. The competition, therefore, would everywhere be as great, and, consequently, the ordinary profit as low as possible.
But, perhaps, no country has ever yet arrived at this degree of opulence. China seems to have been long stationary, and had, probably, long ago acquired that full complement of riches which is consistent with the nature of its laws and institutions. But this complement may be much inferior to what, with other laws and institutions, the nature of its soil, climate, and situation, might admit of. A country which neglects or despises foreign commerce, and which admits the vessel of foreign nations into one or two of its ports only, cannot transact the same quantity of business which it might do with different laws and institutions. In a country, too, where, though the rich, or the owners of large capitals, enjoy a good deal of security, the poor, or the owners of small capitals, enjoy scarce any, but are liable, under the pretence of justice, to be pillaged and plundered at any time by the inferior mandarins, the quantity of stock employed in all the different branches of business transacted within it, can never be equal to what the nature and extent of that business might admit. In every different branch, the oppression of the poor must establish the monopoly of the rich, who, by engrossing the whole trade to themselves, will be able to make very large profits. Twelve per cent. accordingly, is said to be the common interest of money in China, and the ordinary profits of stock must be sufficient to afford this large interest.
A defect in the law may sometimes raise the rate of interest considerably above what the condition of the country, as to wealth or poverty, would require. When the law does not enforce the performance of contracts, it puts all borrowers nearly upon the same footing with bankrupts, or people of doubtful credit, in better regulated countries. The uncertainty of recovering his money makes the lender exact the same usurious interest which is usually required from bankrupts. Among the barbarous nations who overran the western provinces of the Roman empire, the performance of contracts was left for many ages to the faith of the contracting parties. The courts of justice of their kings seldom intermeddled in it. The high rate of interest which took place in those ancient times, may, perhaps, be partly accounted for from this cause.
When the law prohibits interest altogether, it does not prevent it. Many people must borrow, and nobody will lend without such a consideration for the use of their money as is suitable, not only to what can be made by the use of it, but to the difficulty and danger of evading the law. The high rate of interest among all Mahometan nations is accounted for by M. Montesquieu, not from their poverty, but partly from this, and partly from the difficulty of recovering the money.
The lowest ordinary rate of profit must always be something more than what is sufficient to compensate the occasional losses to which every employment of stock is exposed. It is this surplus only which is neat or clear profit. What is called gross profit, comprehends frequently not only this surplus, but what is retained for compensating such extraordinary losses. The interest which the borrower can afford to pay is in proportion to the clear profit only. The lowest ordinary rate of interest must, in the same manner, be something more than sufficient to compensate the occasional losses to which lending, even with tolerable prudence, is exposed. Were it not, mere charity or friendship could be the only motives for lending.
In a country which had acquired its full complement of riches, where, in every particular branch of business, there was the greatest quantity of stock that could be employed in it, as the ordinary rate of clear profit would be very small, so the usual market rate of interest which could be afforded out of it would be so low as to render it impossible for any but the very wealthiest people to live upon the interest of their money. All people of small or middling fortunes would be obliged to superintend themselves the employment of their own stocks. It would be necessary that almost every man should be a man of business, or engage in some sort of trade. The province of Holland seems to be approaching near to this state. It is there unfashionable not to be a man of business. Necessity makes it usual for almost every man to be so, and custom everywhere regulates fashion. As it is ridiculous not to dress, so is it, in some measure, not to be employed like other people. As a man of a civil profession seems awkward in a camp or a garrison, and is even in some danger of being despised there, so does an idle man among men of business.
The highest ordinary rate of profit may be such as, in the price of the greater part of commodities, eats up the whole of what should go to the rent of the land, and leaves only what is sufficient to pay the labour of preparing and bringing them to market, according to the lowest rate at which labour can anywhere be paid, the bare subsistence of the labourer. The workman must always have been fed in some way or other while he was about the work, but the landlord may not always have been paid. The profits of the trade which the servants of the East India Company carry on in Bengal may not, perhaps, be very far from this rate.
The proportion which the usual market rate of interest ought to bear to the ordinary rate of clear profit, necessarily varies as profit rises or falls. Double interest is in Great Britain reckoned what the merchants call a good, moderate, reasonable profit; terms which, I apprehend, mean no more than a common and usual profit. In a country where the ordinary rate of clear profit is eight or ten per cent. it may be reasonable that one half of it should go to interest, wherever business is carried on with borrowed money. The stock is at the risk of the borrower, who, as it were, insures it to the lender; and four or five per cent. may, in the greater part of trades, be both a sufficient profit upon the risk of this insurance, and a sufficient recompence for the trouble of employing the stock. But the proportion between interest and clear profit might not be the same in countries where the ordinary rate of profit was either a good deal lower, or a good deal higher. If it were a good deal lower, one half of it, perhaps, could not be afforded for interest; and more might be afforded if it were a good deal higher.
In countries which are fast advancing to riches, the low rate of profit may, in the price of many commodities, compensate the high wages of labour, and enable those countries to sell as cheap as their less thriving neighbours, among whom the wages of labour may be lower.
In reality, high profits tend much more to raise the price of work than high wages. If, in the linen manufacture, for example, the wages of the different working people, the flax-dressers, the spinners, the weavers, etc. should all of them be advanced twopence a-day, it would be necessary to heighten the price of a piece of linen only by a number of twopences equal to the number of people that had been employed about it, multiplied by the number of days during which they had been so employed. That part of the price of the commodity which resolved itself into the wages, would, through all the different stages of the manufacture, rise only in arithmetical proportion to this rise of wages. But if the profits of all the different employers of those working people should be raised five per cent. that part of the price of the commodity which resolved itself into profit would, through all the different stages of the manufacture, rise in geometrical proportion to this rise of profit. The employer of the flax dressers would, in selling his flax, require an additional five per cent. upon the whole value of the materials and wages which he advanced to his workmen. The employer of the spinners would require an additional five per cent. both upon the advanced price of the flax, and upon the wages of the spinners. And the employer of the weavers would require alike five per cent. both upon the advanced price of the linen-yarn, and upon the wages of the weavers. In raising the price of commodities, the rise of wages operates in the same manner as simple interest does in the accumulation of debt. The rise of profit operates like compound interest. Our merchants and master manufacturers complain much of the bad effects of high wages in raising the price, and thereby lessening the sale of their goods, both at home and abroad. They say nothing concerning the bad effects of high profits; they are silent with regard to the pernicious effects of their own gains; they complain only of those of other people.
English
The acquisition of new territory or new branches of trade may sometimes raise the profits of stock, and with them the interest on money, even in a country rapidly growing richer. The country's stock is not sufficient for all the additional business that such acquisitions bring to the various people who hold it, and so it is directed only to the branches offering the greatest profit. Some stock formerly employed in other trades must be withdrawn and turned toward the new and more profitable ones. Competition in all those older trades consequently declines. The market is less fully supplied with many kinds of goods. Their prices necessarily rise to some degree, yielding greater profits to their dealers, who can therefore afford to borrow at a higher rate of interest. For some time after the end of the late war, not only private individuals with the best credit but also some of London's greatest companies commonly borrowed at five per cent., though previously they had not been accustomed to pay more than four, or four and a half per cent. The great increase in both territory and trade from our acquisitions in North America and the West Indies adequately accounts for this without any supposition that the society's capital stock had diminished. So great an increase in new business conducted with the old stock must necessarily have reduced the amount employed in many particular branches, where diminished competition must have enlarged profits. I shall later give the reasons that lead me to believe that Great Britain's capital stock was not diminished even by the enormous expense of the late war.
A reduction in the society's capital stock, or in the funds set aside to maintain industry, however, raises the profits of stock and therefore the interest on money, just as it lowers the wages of labor. With wages reduced, the owners of the stock remaining in society can bring their goods to market at less expense than before; with less stock employed in supplying that market, they can sell those goods for more. They pay less for their goods and receive more for them. Their profits thus increased on both sides, they can readily afford a high rate of interest. The great fortunes acquired so suddenly and so easily in Bengal and the other British settlements in the East Indies may convince us that, as wages are very low, profits of stock are very high in those ruined countries. Interest on money is correspondingly high. In Bengal, money is often lent to farmers at forty, fifty, and sixty per cent., with the next crop mortgaged to repay it. Profits large enough to bear such interest must consume almost the landlord's entire rent; such enormous usury must in turn consume most of those profits. Before the fall of the Roman republic, similar usury seems to have been common in the provinces under their proconsuls' ruinous administration. The virtuous Brutus lent money in Cyprus at eight-and-forty per cent., as we learn from Cicero's letters.
In a country that had attained the full measure of riches allowed by its soil, climate, and position in relation to other countries, and thus could neither advance further nor decline, both wages and profits of stock would probably be very low. If its population were as large as its territory could support or its stock employ, competition for work would necessarily be so intense that wages would fall to the amount barely sufficient to maintain the number of laborers; already at its full population, the country could never increase that number. If its stock were as large as all its business could accommodate, each particular branch would employ as much as the character and extent of the trade permitted. Competition would therefore be at its greatest everywhere, and the ordinary profit, consequently, at its lowest.
Perhaps no country, however, has yet reached this degree of wealth. China seems long to have remained stationary, and probably long ago attained the full measure of riches consistent with its laws and institutions. Yet that measure may be far below what its soil, climate, and position could support under different laws and institutions. A country that neglects or scorns foreign commerce and admits foreign vessels to only one or two of its ports cannot conduct as much business as it could under other laws and institutions. Nor can the stock employed in its various branches of business ever reach the amount their character and extent might accommodate in a country where the rich, or owners of large capitals, enjoy considerable security, while the poor, or owners of small capitals, enjoy almost none and may at any time be robbed and plundered by lesser mandarins under the pretense of justice. In every branch, oppression of the poor must establish a monopoly for the rich; taking the whole trade into their own hands, they can make very large profits. Accordingly, twelve per cent. is said to be the ordinary interest on money in China, and ordinary profits of stock must be large enough to bear so high a rate.
A defect in the law may sometimes lift interest considerably above the rate that a country's wealth or poverty would otherwise warrant. When the law does not enforce contracts, it places nearly every borrower on the same footing as a bankrupt or a person of doubtful credit in a better-governed country. Uncertain of recovering his money, the lender demands the same usurious interest commonly demanded of bankrupts. Among the barbarous nations that overran the Roman empire's western provinces, fulfillment of contracts depended for many ages on the good faith of the parties. Their kings' courts of justice seldom intervened. This may partly explain the high interest rates of those ancient times.
When the law forbids interest altogether, it does not prevent interest from being charged. Many people must borrow, and no one will lend without compensation for the use of his money appropriate both to what it could earn and to the difficulty and danger of evading the law. M. Montesquieu attributes the high interest rate among all Mahometan nations not to their poverty, but partly to this prohibition and partly to the difficulty of recovering the money.
The lowest ordinary rate of profit must always exceed what is needed to cover the occasional losses to which every use of stock is exposed. Only this excess is net, or clear, profit. What is called gross profit often includes not just this excess but the sum retained against such extraordinary losses. The interest a borrower can afford to pay is proportionate only to clear profit. Similarly, the lowest ordinary rate of interest must exceed what is needed to cover the occasional losses incurred even in reasonably prudent lending. Otherwise charity or friendship alone could induce anyone to lend.
In a country possessing its full measure of riches, with the greatest possible stock employed in each particular branch of business, the ordinary rate of clear profit would be very small. The usual market rate of interest payable from that profit would then be so low that only the very wealthiest could live on the interest of their money. People of small or moderate means would have to supervise the employment of their own stock. Almost everyone would have to conduct business or engage in some trade. The province of Holland appears to be approaching this condition. There it is unfashionable not to be in business. Necessity makes business the usual pursuit of almost everyone, and custom everywhere determines fashion. Just as it is ridiculous not to dress like other people, so, to some extent, is it ridiculous not to work like them. A man in a civilian profession looks out of place in a camp or garrison and even risks being despised there; an idle man looks much the same among businesspeople.
The highest ordinary rate of profit may be so great that, in the price of most commodities, it consumes everything that should go to land rent and leaves only enough to pay for the labor of preparing and bringing them to market at the lowest wage paid anywhere: the laborer's bare subsistence. A worker must always have been fed somehow while working, but a landlord need not always have been paid. The profits from the trade carried on in Bengal by servants of the East India Company may perhaps be not far from this rate.
The proportion that the usual market rate of interest ought to bear to the ordinary rate of clear profit necessarily changes as profit rises or falls. In Great Britain, interest doubled is reckoned what merchants call a good, moderate, reasonable profit—terms that, I believe, mean no more than an ordinary and usual profit. Where the ordinary rate of clear profit is eight or ten per cent., it may be reasonable for half to go to interest whenever business is conducted with borrowed money. The borrower bears the risk of the stock, effectively insuring it for the lender; four or five per cent. may be sufficient in most trades both as profit on the risk of this insurance and as payment for the trouble of employing the stock. But interest and clear profit might stand in a different proportion in countries where ordinary profit was much lower or much higher. If much lower, perhaps half could not be paid as interest; if much higher, more could be paid.
In countries advancing rapidly toward riches, low profit may offset high wages in the prices of many commodities, enabling those countries to sell as cheaply as less prosperous neighbors whose laborers earn lower wages.
In fact, high profits tend to raise the price of work far more than high wages. Suppose, for example, that in making linen the wages of every class of worker—the flax dressers, spinners, weavers, etc.—rose by twopence a day. The price of a piece of linen would need to rise only by as many twopences as the number of people employed on it multiplied by the number of days each worked. Throughout the stages of manufacture, the portion of its price attributable to wages would rise only in arithmetical proportion to the wage increase. But if every employer of those workers earned five per cent. more profit, the portion of the commodity's price attributable to profit would rise through those stages in geometrical proportion to that increase. When selling his flax, the flax dressers' employer would demand another five per cent. on the entire value of the materials and wages he had advanced his workers. The spinners' employer would demand another five per cent. on both the higher price of flax and the spinners' wages. The weavers' employer would likewise demand five per cent. more on both the higher price of linen yarn and the weavers' wages. In raising commodity prices, higher wages work like simple interest in accumulating debt; higher profits work like compound interest. Our merchants and master manufacturers complain loudly that high wages raise prices and thereby diminish sales of their goods at home and abroad. They say nothing of the harmful effects of high profits: silent about the destructive effects of their own gains, they complain only about those of other people.
Book I, Chapter X, 1
18th-century English
OF WAGES AND PROFIT IN THE DIFFERENT EMPLOYMENTS OF LABOUR AND STOCK.
The whole of the advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock, must, in the same neighbourhood, be either perfectly equal, or continually tending to equality. If, in the same neighbourhood, there was any employment evidently either more or less advantageous than the rest, so many people would crowd into it in the one case, and so many would desert it in the other, that its advantages would soon return to the level of other employments. This, at least, would be the case in a society where things were left to follow their natural course, where there was perfect liberty, and where every man was perfectly free both to choose what occupation he thought proper, and to change it as often as he thought proper. Every man’s interest would prompt him to seek the advantageous, and to shun the disadvantageous employment.
Pecuniary wages and profit, indeed, are everywhere in Europe extremely different, according to the different employments of labour and stock. But this difference arises, partly from certain circumstances in the employments themselves, which, either really, or at least in the imagination of men, make up for a small pecuniary gain in some, and counterbalance a great one in others, and partly from the policy of Europe, which nowhere leaves things at perfect liberty.
The particular consideration of those circumstances, and of that policy, will divide this Chapter into two parts.
PART I. Inequalities arising from the nature of the employments themselves.
The five following are the principal circumstances which, so far as I have been able to observe, make up for a small pecuniary gain in some employments, and counterbalance a great one in others. First, the agreeableness or disagreeableness of the employments themselves; secondly, the easiness and cheapness, or the difficulty and expense of learning them; thirdly, the constancy or inconstancy of employment in them; fourthly, the small or great trust which must be reposed in those who exercise them; and, fifthly, the probability or improbability of success in them.
First, the wages of labour vary with the ease or hardship, the cleanliness or dirtiness, the honourableness or dishonourableness, of the employment. Thus in most places, take the year round, a journeyman tailor earns less than a journeyman weaver. His work is much easier. A journeyman weaver earns less than a journeyman smith. His work is not always easier, but it is much cleanlier. A journeyman blacksmith, though an artificer, seldom earns so much in twelve hours, as a collier, who is only a labourer, does in eight. His work is not quite so dirty, is less dangerous, and is carried on in day-light, and above ground. Honour makes a great part of the reward of all honourable professions. In point of pecuniary gain, all things considered, they are generally under-recompensed, as I shall endeavour to shew by and by. Disgrace has the contrary effect. The trade of a butcher is a brutal and an odious business; but it is in most places more profitable than the greater part of common trades. The most detestable of all employments, that of public executioner, is, in proportion to the quantity of work done, better paid than any common trade whatever.
Hunting and fishing, the most important employments of mankind in the rude state of society, become, in its advanced state, their most agreeable amusements, and they pursue for pleasure what they once followed from necessity. In the advanced state of society, therefore, they are all very poor people who follow as a trade, what other people pursue as a pastime. Fishermen have been so since the time of Theocritus. {See Idyllium xxi.}. A poacher is everywhere a very poor man in Great Britain. In countries where the rigour of the law suffers no poachers, the licensed hunter is not in a much better condition. The natural taste for those employments makes more people follow them, than can live comfortably by them; and the produce of their labour, in proportion to its quantity, comes always too cheap to market, to afford any thing but the most scanty subsistence to the labourers.
Disagreeableness and disgrace affect the profits of stock in the same manner as the wages of labour. The keeper of an inn or tavern, who is never master of his own house, and who is exposed to the brutality of every drunkard, exercises neither a very agreeable nor a very creditable business. But there is scarce any common trade in which a small stock yields so great a profit.
Secondly, the wages of labour vary with the easiness and cheapness, or the difficulty and expense, of learning the business.
When any expensive machine is erected, the extraordinary work to be performed by it before it is worn out, it must be expected, will replace the capital laid out upon it, with at least the ordinary profits. A man educated at the expense of much labour and time to any of those employments which require extraordinary dexterity and skill, may be compared to one of those expensive machines. The work which he learns to perform, it must be expected, over and above the usual wages of common labour, will replace to him the whole expense of his education, with at least the ordinary profits of an equally valuable capital. It must do this too in a reasonable time, regard being had to the very uncertain duration of human life, in the same manner as to the more certain duration of the machine.
The difference between the wages of skilled labour and those of common labour, is founded upon this principle.
The policy of Europe considers the labour of all mechanics, artificers, and manufacturers, as skilled labour; and that of all country labourers as common labour. It seems to suppose that of the former to be of a more nice and delicate nature than that of the latter. It is so perhaps in some cases; but in the greater part it is quite otherwise, as I shall endeavour to shew by and by. The laws and customs of Europe, therefore, in order to qualify any person for exercising the one species of labour, impose the necessity of an apprenticeship, though with different degrees of rigour in different places. They leave the other free and open to every body. During the continuance of the apprenticeship, the whole labour of the apprentice belongs to his master. In the meantime he must, in many cases, be maintained by his parents or relations, and, in almost all cases, must be clothed by them. Some money, too, is commonly given to the master for teaching him his trade. They who cannot give money, give time, or become bound for more than the usual number of years; a consideration which, though it is not always advantageous to the master, on account of the usual idleness of apprentices, is always disadvantageous to the apprentice. In country labour, on the contrary, the labourer, while he is employed about the easier, learns the more difficult parts of his business, and his own labour maintains him through all the different stages of his employment. It is reasonable, therefore, that in Europe the wages of mechanics, artificers, and manufacturers, should be somewhat higher than those of common labourers. They are so accordingly, and their superior gains make them, in most places, be considered as a superior rank of people. This superiority, however, is generally very small: the daily or weekly earnings of journeymen in the more common sorts of manufactures, such as those of plain linen and woollen cloth, computed at an average, are, in most places, very little more than the day-wages of common labourers. Their employment, indeed, is more steady and uniform, and the superiority of their earnings, taking the whole year together, may be somewhat greater. It seems evidently, however, to be no greater than what is sufficient to compensate the superior expense of their education. Education in the ingenious arts, and in the liberal professions, is still more tedious and expensive. The pecuniary recompence, therefore, of painters and sculptors, of lawyers and physicians, ought to be much more liberal; and it is so accordingly.
The profits of stock seem to be very little affected by the easiness or difficulty of learning the trade in which it is employed. All the different ways in which stock is commonly employed in great towns seem, in reality, to be almost equally easy and equally difficult to learn. One branch, either of foreign or domestic trade, cannot well be a much more intricate business than another.
Thirdly, the wages of labour in different occupations vary with the constancy or inconstancy of employment.
Employment is much more constant in some trades than in others. In the greater part of manufactures, a journeyman maybe pretty sure of employment almost every day in the year that he is able to work. A mason or bricklayer, on the contrary, can work neither in hard frost nor in foul weather, and his employment at all other times depends upon the occasional calls of his customers. He is liable, in consequence, to be frequently without any. What he earns, therefore, while he is employed, must not only maintain him while he is idle, but make him some compensation for those anxious and desponding moments which the thought of so precarious a situation must sometimes occasion. Where the computed earnings of the greater part of manufacturers, accordingly, are nearly upon a level with the day-wages of common labourers, those of masons and bricklayers are generally from one-half more to double those wages. Where common labourers earn four or five shillings a-week, masons and bricklayers frequently earn seven and eight; where the former earn six, the latter often earn nine and ten; and where the former earn nine and ten, as in London, the latter commonly earn fifteen and eighteen. No species of skilled labour, however, seems more easy to learn than that of masons and bricklayers. Chairmen in London, during the summer season, are said sometimes to be employed as bricklayers. The high wages of those workmen, therefore, are not so much the recompence of their skill, as the compensation for the inconstancy of their employment.
A house-carpenter seems to exercise rather a nicer and a more ingenious trade than a mason. In most places, however, for it is not universally so, his day-wages are somewhat lower. His employment, though it depends much, does not depend so entirely upon the occasional calls of his customers; and it is not liable to be interrupted by the weather.
When the trades which generally afford constant employment, happen in a particular place not to do so, the wages of the workmen always rise a good deal above their ordinary proportion to those of common labour. In London, almost all journeymen artificers are liable to be called upon and dismissed by their masters from day to day, and from week to week, in the same manner as day-labourers in other places. The lowest order of artificers, journeymen tailors, accordingly, earn their half-a-crown a-day, though eighteen pence may be reckoned the wages of common labour. In small towns and country villages, the wages of journeymen tailors frequently scarce equal those of common labour; but in London they are often many weeks without employment, particularly during the summer.
When the inconstancy of employment is combined with the hardship, disagreeableness, and dirtiness of the work, it sometimes raises the wages of the most common labour above those of the most skilful artificers. A collier working by the piece is supposed, at Newcastle, to earn commonly about double, and, in many parts of Scotland, about three times, the wages of common labour. His high wages arise altogether from the hardship, disagreeableness, and dirtiness of his work. His employment may, upon most occasions, be as constant as he pleases. The coal-heavers in London exercise a trade which, in hardship, dirtiness, and disagreeableness, almost equals that of colliers; and, from the unavoidable irregularity in the arrivals of coal-ships, the employment of the greater part of them is necessarily very inconstant. If colliers, therefore, commonly earn double and triple the wages of common labour, it ought not to seem unreasonable that coal-heavers should sometimes earn four and five times those wages. In the inquiry made into their condition a few years ago, it was found that, at the rate at which they were then paid, they could earn from six to ten shillings a-day. Six shillings are about four times the wages of common labour in London; and, in every particular trade, the lowest common earnings may always be considered as those of the far greater number. How extravagant soever those earnings may appear, if they were more than sufficient to compensate all the disagreeable circumstances of the business, there would soon be so great a number of competitors, as, in a trade which has no exclusive privilege, would quickly reduce them to a lower rate.
The constancy or inconstancy of employment cannot affect the ordinary profits of stock in any particular trade. Whether the stock is or is not constantly employed, depends, not upon the trade, but the trader.
Fourthly, the wages of labour vary according to the small or great trust which must be reposed in the workmen.
The wages of goldsmiths and jewellers are everywhere superior to those of many other workmen, not only of equal, but of much superior ingenuity, on account of the precious materials with which they are entrusted. We trust our health to the physician, our fortune, and sometimes our life and reputation, to the lawyer and attorney. Such confidence could not safely be reposed in people of a very mean or low condition. Their reward must be such, therefore, as may give them that rank in the society which so important a trust requires. The long time and the great expense which must be laid out in their education, when combined with this circumstance, necessarily enhance still further the price of their labour.
When a person employs only his own stock in trade, there is no trust; and the credit which he may get from other people, depends, not upon the nature of the trade, but upon their opinion of his fortune, probity and prudence. The different rates of profit, therefore, in the different branches of trade, cannot arise from the different degrees of trust reposed in the traders.
Fifthly, the wages of labour in different employments vary according to the probability or improbability of success in them.
The probability that any particular person shall ever be qualified for the employments to which he is educated, is very different in different occupations. In the greatest part of mechanic trades success is almost certain; but very uncertain in the liberal professions. Put your son apprentice to a shoemaker, there is little doubt of his learning to make a pair of shoes; but send him to study the law, it as at least twenty to one if he ever makes such proficiency as will enable him to live by the business. In a perfectly fair lottery, those who draw the prizes ought to gain all that is lost by those who draw the blanks. In a profession, where twenty fail for one that succeeds, that one ought to gain all that should have been gained by the unsuccessful twenty. The counsellor at law, who, perhaps, at near forty years of age, begins to make something by his profession, ought to receive the retribution, not only of his own so tedious and expensive education, but of that of more than twenty others, who are never likely to make any thing by it. How extravagant soever the fees of counsellors at law may sometimes appear, their real retribution is never equal to this. Compute, in any particular place, what is likely to be annually gained, and what is likely to be annually spent, by all the different workmen in any common trade, such as that of shoemakers or weavers, and you will find that the former sum will generally exceed the latter. But make the same computation with regard to all the counsellors and students of law, in all the different Inns of Court, and you will find that their annual gains bear but a very small proportion to their annual expense, even though you rate the former as high, and the latter as low, as can well be done. The lottery of the law, therefore, is very far from being a perfectly fair lottery; and that as well as many other liberal and honourable professions, is, in point of pecuniary gain, evidently under-recompensed.
English
ON WAGES AND PROFIT IN THE DIFFERENT EMPLOYMENTS OF LABOR AND STOCK.
Within the same neighborhood, the advantages and disadvantages of the various employments of labor and stock must either be exactly equal or continually tend toward equality. If one occupation there were plainly more or less advantageous than the rest, so many people would enter it in the first case, or abandon it in the second, that its advantages would soon return to the level of other occupations. Such, at least, would be the result in a society where things followed their natural course, where freedom was complete, and where everyone was entirely free to choose an occupation and change it as often as desired. Each person's interest would lead him toward advantageous work and away from disadvantageous work.
Money wages and profit do, indeed, vary enormously throughout Europe among the different employments of labor and stock. This difference arises partly from circumstances inherent in the occupations themselves: these compensate, either in reality or at least in people's imaginations, for a small monetary reward in some occupations, and offset a large one in others. It also arises partly from Europe's policies, which nowhere leave people in complete freedom.
An examination of these circumstances and these policies will divide this chapter into two parts.
PART I. Inequalities arising from the nature of the employments themselves.
As far as I have observed, five principal circumstances compensate for low monetary returns in some occupations and offset high returns in others. First, whether the occupations themselves are agreeable or disagreeable; second, whether learning them is easy and cheap or difficult and expensive; third, whether employment in them is steady or irregular; fourth, how little or how much trust must be placed in those who practice them; and fifth, how likely or unlikely success is in them.
First, wages vary with an occupation's ease or hardship, cleanliness or dirtiness, honor or dishonor. Thus in most places, reckoned over a year, a journeyman tailor earns less than a journeyman weaver: the tailor's work is much easier. A journeyman weaver earns less than a journeyman smith: the weaver's work is not always easier, but is much cleaner. A journeyman blacksmith, though a craftsman, seldom earns as much in twelve hours as a collier, who is only a laborer, earns in eight. The blacksmith's work is not quite so dirty, is less dangerous, and is done in daylight above ground. Honor constitutes much of the reward in every honorable profession. In money terms, when all is considered, such professions are generally underpaid, as I shall presently try to show. Disgrace has the opposite effect. The butcher's trade is brutal and repellent, yet in most places more profitable than most common trades. The most detestable employment of all, public executioner, pays better in proportion to the amount of work done than any ordinary trade whatever.
Hunting and fishing, humanity's most important occupations in a primitive society, become its most agreeable amusements in an advanced one: what people once did from necessity they now pursue for pleasure. Thus in advanced society those who earn their living at what others do for recreation are all very poor. Fishermen have been so since Theocritus's time. [See Idyllium xxi.]. Everywhere in Great Britain the poacher is a very poor man. Where strict laws allow no poachers, the licensed hunter is not much better off. A natural taste for these pursuits draws more people to them than can live comfortably from them; relative to its quantity, their labor's produce always reaches the market too cheaply to give the laborers more than the scantest subsistence.
Unpleasantness and disgrace affect profits of stock just as they affect wages of labor. An innkeeper or tavern keeper, never master of his own house and exposed to every drunkard's brutality, follows a business neither very pleasant nor very respectable. Yet hardly any ordinary trade yields such a high return on a small stock.
Second, wages vary according to how easy and inexpensive, or difficult and costly, it is to learn a business.
When an expensive machine is installed, the exceptional work it performs before wearing out is expected to repay the capital spent on it with at least ordinary profits. A person educated through much time and effort for work requiring exceptional dexterity and skill may be compared with such a machine. The work he learns to do must be expected to repay the whole expense of his education, over and above ordinary laborers' wages, with at least the ordinary profits of equally valuable capital. It must also do so within a reasonable period, allowing for the far less certain length of a human life compared with that of a machine.
This principle accounts for the difference between the wages of skilled and ordinary labor.
European policy treats the labor of all mechanics, craftsmen, and manufacturers as skilled, but that of all agricultural laborers as ordinary. It appears to assume that the former's work is finer and more delicate than the latter's. It may be so in some cases; in most it is quite otherwise, as I shall try to show shortly. European laws and customs therefore require an apprenticeship to qualify anyone for the first kind of work, with varying degrees of strictness in different places. They leave the other kind free and open to everyone. Throughout an apprenticeship, the apprentice's entire labor belongs to his master. Meanwhile his parents or relatives must in many cases provide his maintenance and in almost every case his clothes. Some money is commonly paid to his master as well for teaching him the trade. Those who cannot pay money give time instead, binding themselves for more than the usual number of years. Although this is not always advantageous to the master, given the usual idleness of apprentices, it is always disadvantageous to the apprentice. In agricultural labor, by contrast, the worker learns the harder parts of his trade while employed on the easier parts, and his own work supports him at every stage. It is reasonable, then, that European mechanics, craftsmen, and manufacturing workers should earn somewhat higher wages than ordinary laborers. They do, and their higher earnings cause them to be regarded in most places as a higher rank of people. Yet this advantage is generally very small: averaged out, the daily or weekly earnings of journeymen in the more common manufactures, such as plain linen and woolen cloth, are in most places only slightly above the daily wages of ordinary laborers. Their work is indeed steadier and more regular, and their advantage over the entire year may be somewhat greater. Even so, it clearly appears to amount to no more than is needed to offset the higher cost of their education. Training in the ingenious arts and the liberal professions takes still longer and costs still more. Painters and sculptors, lawyers and physicians, should therefore receive a much more generous monetary reward; and so they do.
The ease or difficulty of learning a trade appears to have very little effect on the profits of stock employed in it. The different ways in which stock is ordinarily employed in great towns seem, in fact, almost equally easy or equally difficult to learn. One branch of foreign or domestic trade can hardly be much more intricate than another.
Third, wages in different occupations vary with the steadiness or irregularity of employment.
Employment is far steadier in some trades than in others. In most manufactures, a journeyman can be fairly certain of work on nearly every day of the year on which he is able to work. A mason or bricklayer, by contrast, can work neither in severe frost nor in bad weather; at other times his work depends on the occasional demands of his customers. He is consequently often without employment. His earnings when he has work must therefore sustain him while idle and also compensate him somewhat for the anxious, despondent hours that his insecure condition sometimes brings. Thus, where the estimated earnings of most manufacturing workers are nearly equal to ordinary laborers' daily wages, masons and bricklayers generally earn between half as much again and twice as much. Where ordinary laborers earn four or five shillings a week, masons and bricklayers often earn seven and eight; where the former earn six, the latter often earn nine and ten; and where the former earn nine and ten, as in London, the latter commonly earn fifteen and eighteen. Yet no kind of skilled labor seems easier to learn than masonry and bricklaying. During the summer in London, chairmen are said sometimes to work as bricklayers. These workers' high wages are thus less a reward for their skill than compensation for the irregularity of their employment.
A house carpenter appears to practice a finer and more inventive craft than a mason. Nevertheless, in most places—though not everywhere—his daily wages are somewhat lower. His work depends heavily, but not quite so completely, on occasional customer demand, and weather does not interrupt it.
When trades that generally offer regular employment fail to offer it in a particular place, their workers' wages always rise well above the usual ratio to ordinary laborers' wages. In London, masters can hire and dismiss nearly all journeyman craftsmen from day to day and week to week, as they do day laborers elsewhere. Consequently, even the lowest class of craftsmen, journeyman tailors, earn half-a-crown a day, although eighteen pence may be regarded as the wage for ordinary labor. In small towns and country villages, journeyman tailors' wages often barely equal those of ordinary laborers; in London, however, tailors often spend many weeks without work, especially in summer.
When irregular employment is combined with hard, unpleasant, dirty work, it sometimes raises even the wages of ordinary labor above those of the most skilled craftsmen. A collier paid by the piece is thought ordinarily to earn about twice the wage of ordinary labor at Newcastle, and about three times that wage in many parts of Scotland. His high wage comes entirely from the hardship, unpleasantness, and dirtiness of his work. On most occasions his work can be as steady as he wishes. The coal heavers of London practice a trade almost as hard, dirty, and unpleasant as the colliers', but the inevitable irregularity of coal ships' arrivals makes employment necessarily very irregular for most of them. If colliers normally earn two or three times ordinary wages, it should not seem unreasonable for coal heavers sometimes to earn four or five times those wages. An inquiry into their circumstances a few years ago found that at their then current rates they could earn from six to ten shillings a day. Six shillings are about four times the wages of ordinary labor in London; and in any trade the lowest ordinary earnings can always be regarded as the earnings of by far the largest number of workers. However extravagant those earnings may seem, if they more than compensated for every unpleasant feature of the business, competitors would soon enter in such numbers that, in a trade with no exclusive privilege, they would quickly lower the rate.
Steady or irregular employment cannot affect the ordinary profits of stock in a particular trade. Whether stock remains constantly employed depends not on the trade but on the trader.
Fourth, wages vary with the degree of trust that must be placed in workers.
Goldsmiths and jewelers everywhere earn more than many workers with equal or even much greater ingenuity, because of the precious materials entrusted to them. We entrust our health to a physician; to a lawyer and attorney we entrust our fortune and sometimes our life and reputation. Such trust could not safely be placed in people of very low or humble condition. Their reward must therefore give them the social rank demanded by so important a trust. Joined with the long and costly education they require, this consideration necessarily raises the price of their labor still further.
When someone employs only his own stock in trade, there is no trust involved. Any credit others give him depends not on the kind of trade he follows but on their opinion of his wealth, honesty, and prudence. Differences in profit rates among branches of trade therefore cannot arise from differing degrees of trust placed in traders.
Fifth, wages in different occupations vary with the likelihood of success in them.
The likelihood that a given person will become qualified for the occupation for which he is educated differs greatly among occupations. Success is almost certain in most mechanical trades, but highly uncertain in the liberal professions. Apprentice your son to a shoemaker and there is little doubt he will learn to make a pair of shoes; send him to study law and the odds are at least twenty to one against his mastering it well enough to earn his living. In a perfectly fair lottery, the prize winners should gain everything lost by those who draw blanks. In a profession where twenty fail for each one who succeeds, the one should gain everything the unsuccessful twenty would have earned. A counselor at law who perhaps begins to earn something from his profession only when nearly forty ought to be rewarded not just for his own long, costly education but for that of more than twenty others who will probably never earn anything from theirs. However extravagant lawyers' fees sometimes appear, their actual reward never equals that amount. Calculate in any place the probable yearly earnings and yearly expenses of all the workers in an ordinary trade, such as shoemaking or weaving, and you will generally find that earnings exceed expenses. Make the same calculation for all the counselors and law students in all the Inns of Court, however, and their annual earnings will prove to be only a small fraction of their annual expenses, even if you estimate earnings as high and expenses as low as reasonably possible. The lottery of the law, then, is far from perfectly fair; and in monetary terms law, like many other liberal and honorable professions, is clearly underpaid.
Book I, Chapter X, 2
18th-century English
Those professions keep their level, however, with other occupations; and, notwithstanding these discouragements, all the most generous and liberal spirits are eager to crowd into them. Two different causes contribute to recommend them. First, the desire of the reputation which attends upon superior excellence in any of them; and, secondly, the natural confidence which every man has, more or less, not only in his own abilities, but in his own good fortune.
To excel in any profession, in which but few arrive at mediocrity, is the most decisive mark of what is called genius, or superior talents. The public admiration which attends upon such distinguished abilities makes always a part of their reward; a greater or smaller, in proportion as it is higher or lower in degree. It makes a considerable part of that reward in the profession of physic; a still greater, perhaps, in that of law; in poetry and philosophy it makes almost the whole.
There are some very agreeable and beautiful talents, of which the possession commands a certain sort of admiration, but of which the exercise, for the sake of gain, is considered, whether from reason or prejudice, as a sort of public prostitution. The pecuniary recompence, therefore, of those who exercise them in this manner, must be sufficient, not only to pay for the time, labour, and expense of acquiring the talents, but for the discredit which attends the employment of them as the means of subsistence. The exorbitant rewards of players, opera-singers, opera-dancers, etc. are founded upon those two principles; the rarity and beauty of the talents, and the discredit of employing them in this manner. It seems absurd at first sight, that we should despise their persons, and yet reward their talents with the most profuse liberality. While we do the one, however, we must of necessity do the other, Should the public opinion or prejudice ever alter with regard to such occupations, their pecuniary recompence would quickly diminish. More people would apply to them, and the competition would quickly reduce the price of their labour. Such talents, though far from being common, are by no means so rare as imagined. Many people possess them in great perfection, who disdain to make this use of them; and many more are capable of acquiring them, if any thing could be made honourably by them.
The over-weening conceit which the greater part of men have of their own abilities, is an ancient evil remarked by the philosophers and moralists of all ages. Their absurd presumption in their own good fortune has been less taken notice of. It is, however, if possible, still more universal. There is no man living, who, when in tolerable health and spirits, has not some share of it. The chance of gain is by every man more or less over-valued, and the chance of loss is by most men under-valued, and by scarce any man, who is in tolerable health and spirits, valued more than it is worth.
That the chance of gain is naturally overvalued, we may learn from the universal success of lotteries. The world neither ever saw, nor ever will see, a perfectly fair lottery, or one in which the whole gain compensated the whole loss; because the undertaker could make nothing by it. In the state lotteries, the tickets are really not worth the price which is paid by the original subscribers, and yet commonly sell in the market for twenty, thirty, and sometimes forty per cent. advance. The vain hopes of gaining some of the great prizes is the sole cause of this demand. The soberest people scarce look upon it as a folly to pay a small sum for the chance of gaining ten or twenty thousand pounds, though they know that even that small sum is perhaps twenty or thirty per cent. more than the chance is worth. In a lottery in which no prize exceeded twenty pounds, though in other respects it approached much nearer to a perfectly fair one than the common state lotteries, there would not be the same demand for tickets. In order to have a better chance for some of the great prizes, some people purchase several tickets; and others, small shares in a still greater number. There is not, however, a more certain proposition in mathematics, than that the more tickets you adventure upon, the more likely you are to be a loser. Adventure upon all the tickets in the lottery, and you lose for certain; and the greater the number of your tickets, the nearer you approach to this certainty.
That the chance of loss is frequently undervalued, and scarce ever valued more than it is worth, we may learn from the very moderate profit of insurers. In order to make insurance, either from fire or sea-risk, a trade at all, the common premium must be sufficient to compensate the common losses, to pay the expense of management, and to afford such a profit as might have been drawn from an equal capital employed in any common trade. The person who pays no more than this, evidently pays no more than the real value of the risk, or the lowest price at which he can reasonably expect to insure it. But though many people have made a little money by insurance, very few have made a great fortune; and, from this consideration alone, it seems evident enough that the ordinary balance of profit and loss is not more advantageous in this than in other common trades, by which so many people make fortunes. Moderate, however, as the premium of insurance commonly is, many people despise the risk too much to care to pay it. Taking the whole kingdom at an average, nineteen houses in twenty, or rather, perhaps, ninety-nine in a hundred, are not insured from fire. Sea-risk is more alarming to the greater part of people; and the proportion of ships insured to those not insured is much greater. Many sail, however, at all seasons, and even in time of war, without any insurance. This may sometimes, perhaps, be done without any imprudence. When a great company, or even a great merchant, has twenty or thirty ships at sea, they may, as it were, insure one another. The premium saved up on them all may more than compensate such losses as they are likely to meet with in the common course of chances. The neglect of insurance upon shipping, however, in the same manner as upon houses, is, in most cases, the effect of no such nice calculation, but of mere thoughtless rashness, and presumptuous contempt of the risk.
The contempt of risk, and the presumptuous hope of success, are in no period of life more active than at the age at which young people choose their professions. How little the fear of misfortune is then capable of balancing the hope of good luck, appears still more evidently in the readiness of the common people to enlist as soldiers, or to go to sea, than in the eagerness of those of better fashion to enter into what are called the liberal professions.
What a common soldier may lose is obvious enough. Without regarding the danger, however, young volunteers never enlist so readily as at the beginning of a new war; and though they have scarce any chance of preferment, they figure to themselves, in their youthful fancies, a thousand occasions of acquiring honour and distinction which never occur. These romantic hopes make the whole price of their blood. Their pay is less than that of common labourers, and, in actual service, their fatigues are much greater.
The lottery of the sea is not altogether so disadvantageous as that of the army. The son of a creditable labourer or artificer may frequently go to sea with his father’s consent; but if he enlists as a soldier, it is always without it. Other people see some chance of his making something by the one trade; nobody but himself sees any of his making any thing by the other. The great admiral is less the object of public admiration than the great general; and the highest success in the sea service promises a less brilliant fortune and reputation than equal success in the land. The same difference runs through all the inferior degrees of preferment in both. By the rules of precedency, a captain in the navy ranks with a colonel in the army; but he does not rank with him in the common estimation. As the great prizes in the lottery are less, the smaller ones must be more numerous. Common sailors, therefore, more frequently get some fortune and preferment than common soldiers; and the hope of those prizes is what principally recommends the trade. Though their skill and dexterity are much superior to that of almost any artificers; and though their whole life is one continual scene of hardship and danger; yet for all this dexterity and skill, for all those hardships and dangers, while they remain in the condition of common sailors, they receive scarce any other recompence but the pleasure of exercising the one and of surmounting the other. Their wages are not greater than those of common labourers at the port which regulates the rate of seamen’s wages. As they are continually going from port to port, the monthly pay of those who sail from all the different ports of Great Britain, is more nearly upon a level than that of any other workmen in those different places; and the rate of the port to and from which the greatest number sail, that is, the port of London, regulates that of all the rest. At London, the wages of the greater part of the different classes of workmen are about double those of the same classes at Edinburgh. But the sailors who sail from the port of London, seldom earn above three or four shillings a month more than those who sail from the port of Leith, and the difference is frequently not so great. In time of peace, and in the merchant-service, the London price is from a guinea to about seven-and-twenty shillings the calendar month. A common labourer in London, at the rate of nine or ten shillings a week, may earn in the calendar month from forty to five-and-forty shillings. The sailor, indeed, over and above his pay, is supplied with provisions. Their value, however, may not perhaps always exceed the difference between his pay and that of the common labourer; and though it sometimes should, the excess will not be clear gain to the sailor, because he cannot share it with his wife and family, whom he must maintain out of his wages at home.
The dangers and hair-breadth escapes of a life of adventures, instead of disheartening young people, seem frequently to recommend a trade to them. A tender mother, among the inferior ranks of people, is often afraid to send her son to school at a sea-port town, lest the sight of the ships, and the conversation and adventures of the sailors, should entice him to go to sea. The distant prospect of hazards, from which we can hope to extricate ourselves by courage and address, is not disagreeable to us, and does not raise the wages of labour in any employment. It is otherwise with those in which courage and address can be of no avail. In trades which are known to be very unwholesome, the wages of labour are always remarkably high. Unwholesomeness is a species of disagreeableness, and its effects upon the wages of labour are to be ranked under that general head.
In all the different employments of stock, the ordinary rate of profit varies more or less with the certainty or uncertainty of the returns. These are, in general, less uncertain in the inland than in the foreign trade, and in some branches of foreign trade than in others; in the trade to North America, for example, than in that to Jamaica. The ordinary rate of profit always rises more or less with the risk. It does not, however, seem to rise in proportion to it, or so as to compensate it completely. Bankruptcies are most frequent in the most hazardous trades. The most hazardous of all trades, that of a smuggler, though, when the adventure succeeds, it is likewise the most profitable, is the infallible road to bankruptcy. The presumptuous hope of success seems to act here as upon all other occasions, and to entice so many adventurers into those hazardous trades, that their competition reduces the profit below what is sufficient to compensate the risk. To compensate it completely, the common returns ought, over and above the ordinary profits of stock, not only to make up for all occasional losses, but to afford a surplus profit to the adventurers, of the same nature with the profit of insurers. But if the common returns were sufficient for all this, bankruptcies would not be more frequent in these than in other trades.
Of the five circumstances, therefore, which vary the wages of labour, two only affect the profits of stock; the agreeableness or disagreeableness of the business, and the risk or security with which it is attended. In point of agreeableness or disagreeableness, there is little or no difference in the far greater part of the different employments of stock, but a great deal in those of labour; and the ordinary profit of stock, though it rises with the risk, does not always seem to rise in proportion to it. It should follow from all this, that, in the same society or neighbourhood, the average and ordinary rates of profit in the different employments of stock should be more nearly upon a level than the pecuniary wages of the different sorts of labour.
They are so accordingly. The difference between the earnings of a common labourer and those of a well employed lawyer or physician, is evidently much greater than that between the ordinary profits in any two different branches of trade. The apparent difference, besides, in the profits of different trades, is generally a deception arising from our not always distinguishing what ought to be considered as wages, from what ought to be considered as profit.
Apothecaries’ profit is become a bye-word, denoting something uncommonly extravagant. This great apparent profit, however, is frequently no more than the reasonable wages of labour. The skill of an apothecary is a much nicer and more delicate matter than that of any artificer whatever; and the trust which is reposed in him is of much greater importance. He is the physician of the poor in all cases, and of the rich when the distress or danger is not very great. His reward, therefore, ought to be suitable to his skill and his trust; and it arises generally from the price at which he sells his drugs. But the whole drugs which the best employed apothecary in a large market-town, will sell in a year, may not perhaps cost him above thirty or forty pounds. Though he should sell them, therefore, for three or four hundred, or at a thousand per cent. profit, this may frequently be no more than the reasonable wages of his labour, charged, in the only way in which he can charge them, upon the price of his drugs. The greater part of the apparent profit is real wages disguised in the garb of profit.
English
Yet these professions maintain their standing alongside other occupations; despite such discouragements, people of the most generous and cultivated spirit eagerly enter them. Two causes make them attractive: first, the desire for the reputation conferred by outstanding achievement in any of them; second, the natural confidence nearly everyone feels both in personal ability and in personal good fortune.
To excel in a profession in which few even reach mediocrity is the clearest sign of what is called genius, or superior talent. The public admiration that attends such distinguished ability is always part of its reward, a larger or smaller part according to its degree. It makes up a considerable part of the reward in medicine, perhaps a still larger part in law, and almost the entire reward in poetry and philosophy.
Certain very pleasing and beautiful talents command a kind of admiration in their possessors, yet their exercise for money is regarded, whether reasonably or through prejudice, as a form of public prostitution. The monetary reward of those who use them this way must therefore pay not only for the time, effort, and expense of acquiring the talents, but also for the discredit of using them to earn a living. The exorbitant rewards of actors, opera singers, opera dancers, etc. rest on these two grounds: the rarity and beauty of their talents, and the discredit attached to using them in this fashion. It seems absurd at first that we should despise the performers themselves while rewarding their talents with such lavish generosity. Yet if we do the first, we must necessarily do the second. If public opinion or prejudice concerning such occupations ever changed, their monetary reward would soon decline. More people would take them up, and competition would quickly lower the price of their labor. Though uncommon, such talents are by no means as rare as people imagine. Many possess them to a high degree but refuse to put them to this use; many more could acquire them if it were possible to earn something honorably by doing so.
The excessive opinion most people hold of their own abilities is an ancient failing noted by philosophers and moralists of every age. Their absurd faith in their own good fortune has attracted less notice, though it is, if anything, still more widespread. No living person in reasonably good health and spirits is entirely without it. Everyone overestimates the chance of gain to some extent; most underestimate the chance of loss, and hardly anyone in reasonably good health and spirits rates that chance higher than its true value.
The universal success of lotteries shows how naturally people overestimate the chance of gain. The world has never seen, and never will see, a perfectly fair lottery in which total winnings equal total losses, for its operator could make no money from it. In state lotteries, tickets are not really worth what the first subscribers pay, yet they commonly sell on the market for twenty, thirty, and sometimes forty per cent. more. Vain hopes of winning one of the great prizes alone create this demand. Even the most sober-minded hardly regard it as foolish to pay a small sum for a chance at ten or twenty thousand pounds, although they know that this small sum may itself be twenty or thirty per cent. more than the chance is worth. If no prize in a lottery exceeded twenty pounds, there would be less demand for tickets, even if in every other respect the lottery came much closer to being perfectly fair than the ordinary state lotteries. To increase their chances of a great prize, some buy several tickets, while others buy small shares in still more. Yet no mathematical proposition is more certain than this: the more tickets you risk money on, the likelier you are to lose. Risk money on every ticket in the lottery and you certainly lose; the more tickets you buy, the closer you come to that certainty.
The modest profits of insurers show that the chance of loss is often underestimated and hardly ever overestimated. For fire or marine insurance to be a viable trade, its usual premium must cover ordinary losses and the costs of management, and yield the profit that an equal capital could earn in any ordinary trade. Whoever pays no more than this plainly pays no more than the real value of the risk—the lowest price at which insurance could reasonably be expected. Yet although many people have earned a little from insurance, very few have made a great fortune; this fact alone seems to show clearly enough that its ordinary balance of profit and loss is no more favorable than that of other ordinary trades, in which so many people do make fortunes. Moderate as the insurance premium generally is, many people disregard the risk too much to pay it. Over the kingdom as a whole, nineteen houses in twenty—or perhaps rather ninety-nine in a hundred—are uninsured against fire. Marine risks cause most people greater alarm, and a far greater proportion of ships are insured than of houses. Nevertheless, many ships sail in every season, even in wartime, without insurance. This may sometimes be quite prudent. If a large company, or even a major merchant, has twenty or thirty ships at sea, they can, in effect, insure one another. The premiums saved on them all may more than cover the losses they are likely to suffer in the ordinary course of events. In most cases, however, failing to insure ships, like failing to insure houses, results not from such careful calculation but from sheer thoughtless rashness and presumptuous disregard of risk.
Contempt for risk and presumptuous hope of success are more active at no time of life than when young people choose their occupations. The readiness of ordinary people to enlist as soldiers or go to sea shows even more clearly than the eagerness of those of higher standing to enter the so-called liberal professions how little fear of misfortune can then counterbalance hope of good luck.
What an ordinary soldier stands to lose is plain enough. Yet, regardless of danger, young volunteers enlist most readily at the start of a new war; though their chances of promotion are slight, youthful fancy offers them a thousand occasions for winning honor and distinction that never materialize. These romantic hopes are the whole price they receive for their blood. Their pay is below that of ordinary laborers, while their exertions on active service are far greater.
The lottery of a life at sea is not quite so unfavorable as the army's. The son of a respectable laborer or craftsman may often go to sea with his father's consent; if he enlists as a soldier, it is always without that consent. Others can see some prospect of his earning something in the first occupation; no one but he sees any such prospect in the second. The great admiral commands less public admiration than the great general; and the highest success at sea promises a less brilliant fortune and reputation than equal success on land. The same difference holds at every lower level of advancement in the two services. Under the rules of precedence, a naval captain ranks with an army colonel, but public estimation does not rank him equally. Because the great prizes in the naval lottery are smaller, its lesser prizes must be more numerous. Ordinary sailors consequently obtain some fortune and promotion more often than ordinary soldiers; it is chiefly the hope of these prizes that attracts them to the occupation. Though their skill and dexterity greatly exceed those of almost any craftsman, and though their whole life is a continuous succession of hardship and danger, while they remain ordinary sailors they receive for all their skill, hardship, and danger scarcely any reward beyond the pleasure of exercising their abilities and overcoming their trials. Their wages are no greater than those of ordinary laborers at the port that determines the rate of seamen's wages. Because sailors continually move from one port to another, the monthly pay of sailors departing from the various ports of Great Britain is more nearly equal than the pay of any other class of workers in those places; the port from which and to which the greatest number sail, London, sets the rate for all the rest. In London, the wages of most classes of workers are about twice those of the same classes in Edinburgh. But sailors departing London seldom earn more than three or four shillings a month above sailors departing Leith, and often the difference is smaller. In peacetime merchant service, the London rate ranges from a guinea to about seven-and-twenty shillings per calendar month. An ordinary laborer in London, earning nine or ten shillings a week, may earn from forty to five-and-forty shillings per calendar month. The sailor, it is true, receives provisions besides his pay. Their value, however, may not always exceed the difference between his pay and an ordinary laborer's; and even when it does, the excess is not clear gain to the sailor, since he cannot share the provisions with his wife and family, whom he must support at home from his wages.
The dangers and narrow escapes of an adventurous life often attract young people to a trade rather than deter them. A loving mother among the lower ranks is often afraid to send her son to school in a seaport town, lest the ships he sees and the sailors' tales and adventures entice him to go to sea. The distant prospect of dangers from which we hope to escape through courage and resourcefulness is not disagreeable to us and does not raise wages in any occupation. It is different where courage and resourcefulness offer no protection. Wages are always notably high in trades known to be very unhealthy. Unhealthiness is a form of unpleasantness, and its effect on wages belongs under that general heading.
In every different use of stock, the ordinary rate of profit varies to some extent with the certainty or uncertainty of returns. Returns are generally more certain in domestic than in foreign trade, and more certain in some branches of foreign trade than in others—in trade with North America, for example, than in trade with Jamaica. Ordinary profit always increases to some extent with risk, but it does not seem to increase in proportion to risk or to compensate for it fully. Bankruptcies are most frequent in the most hazardous trades. Smuggling, the most hazardous trade of all, is the surest path to bankruptcy, although its ventures are also the most profitable when they succeed. Presumptuous hope of success seems to operate here as everywhere else, enticing so many adventurers into hazardous trades that their competition lowers profit below what is needed to cover the risk. For full compensation, ordinary returns would have to cover all occasional losses over and above ordinary profits of stock, and also yield adventurers an additional profit of the same kind as insurers' profit. But if ordinary returns were enough for all this, bankruptcies would be no more common in these trades than in others.
Of the five circumstances that cause wages to vary, then, only two affect profits of stock: whether a business is agreeable or disagreeable, and the risk or security that accompanies it. In agreeableness or unpleasantness, most ways of employing stock differ little or not at all, while employments of labor differ greatly. And though the ordinary profit of stock rises with risk, it does not always appear to rise in proportion to it. It follows that within a given society or neighborhood, average ordinary rates of profit among different uses of stock should be closer to one another than the money wages of different kinds of labor.
And so they are. The difference between an ordinary laborer's earnings and those of a lawyer or physician in full practice is clearly much greater than the difference between ordinary profits in any two branches of trade. Moreover, apparent differences in profits among trades generally arise from our failure to distinguish what should be counted as wages from what should be counted as profit.
The apothecary's profit has become proverbial for extravagance. Yet this seemingly enormous profit is often no more than reasonable wages for labor. An apothecary's skill is finer and more delicate than any craftsman's, and the trust placed in him matters far more. He is the poor person's physician in all cases, and the rich person's when illness or danger is not severe. His reward should therefore match his skill and the trust placed in him; it generally comes from the prices at which he sells his medicines. Yet all the medicines sold in a year by the busiest apothecary in a large market town may cost him no more than thirty or forty pounds. Even if he sells them for three or four hundred, or at a thousand per cent. profit, that may often amount to no more than reasonable wages for his labor, added to the price of his medicines because he has no other way to charge for it. Most of the apparent profit is really wages disguised as profit.
Book I, Chapter X, 3
18th-century English
In a small sea-port town, a little grocer will make forty or fifty per cent. upon a stock of a single hundred pounds, while a considerable wholesale merchant in the same place will scarce make eight or ten per cent. upon a stock of ten thousand. The trade of the grocer may be necessary for the conveniency of the inhabitants, and the narrowness of the market may not admit the employment of a larger capital in the business. The man, however, must not only live by his trade, but live by it suitably to the qualifications which it requires. Besides possessing a little capital, he must be able to read, write, and account and must be a tolerable judge, too, of perhaps fifty or sixty different sorts of goods, their prices, qualities, and the markets where they are to be had cheapest. He must have all the knowledge, in short, that is necessary for a great merchant, which nothing hinders him from becoming but the want of a sufficient capital. Thirty or forty pounds a year cannot be considered as too great a recompence for the labour of a person so accomplished. Deduct this from the seemingly great profits of his capital, and little more will remain, perhaps, than the ordinary profits of stock. The greater part of the apparent profit is, in this case too, real wages.
The difference between the apparent profit of the retail and that of the wholesale trade, is much less in the capital than in small towns and country villages. Where ten thousand pounds can be employed in the grocery trade, the wages of the grocer’s labour must be a very trifling addition to the real profits of so great a stock. The apparent profits of the wealthy retailer, therefore, are there more nearly upon a level with those of the wholesale merchant. It is upon this account that goods sold by retail are generally as cheap, and frequently much cheaper, in the capital than in small towns and country villages. Grocery goods, for example, are generally much cheaper; bread and butchers’ meat frequently as cheap. It costs no more to bring grocery goods to the great town than to the country village; but it costs a great deal more to bring corn and cattle, as the greater part of them must be brought from a much greater distance. The prime cost of grocery goods, therefore, being the same in both places, they are cheapest where the least profit is charged upon them. The prime cost of bread and butchers’ meat is greater in the great town than in the country village; and though the profit is less, therefore they are not always cheaper there, but often equally cheap. In such articles as bread and butchers’ meat, the same cause which diminishes apparent profit, increases prime cost. The extent of the market, by giving employment to greater stocks, diminishes apparent profit; but by requiring supplies from a greater distance, it increases prime cost. This diminution of the one and increase of the other, seem, in most cases, nearly to counterbalance one another; which is probably the reason that, though the prices of corn and cattle are commonly very different in different parts of the kingdom, those of bread and butchers’ meat are generally very nearly the same through the greater part of it.
Though the profits of stock, both in the wholesale and retail trade, are generally less in the capital than in small towns and country villages, yet great fortunes are frequently acquired from small beginnings in the former, and scarce ever in the latter. In small towns and country villages, on account of the narrowness of the market, trade cannot always be extended as stock extends. In such places, therefore, though the rate of a particular person’s profits may be very high, the sum or amount of them can never be very great, nor consequently that of his annual accumulation. In great towns, on the contrary, trade can be extended as stock increases, and the credit of a frugal and thriving man increases much faster than his stock. His trade is extended in proportion to the amount of both; and the sum or amount of his profits is in proportion to the extent of his trade, and his annual accumulation in proportion to the amount of his profits. It seldom happens, however, that great fortunes are made, even in great towns, by any one regular, established, and well-known branch of business, but in consequence of a long life of industry, frugality, and attention. Sudden fortunes, indeed, are sometimes made in such places, by what is called the trade of speculation. The speculative merchant exercises no one regular, established, or well-known branch of business. He is a corn merchant this year, and a wine merchant the next, and a sugar, tobacco, or tea merchant the year after. He enters into every trade, when he foresees that it is likely to be more than commonly profitable, and he quits it when he foresees that its profits are likely to return to the level of other trades. His profits and losses, therefore, can bear no regular proportion to those of any one established and well-known branch of business. A bold adventurer may sometimes acquire a considerable fortune by two or three successful speculations, but is just as likely to lose one by two or three unsuccessful ones. This trade can be carried on nowhere but in great towns. It is only in places of the most extensive commerce and correspondence that the intelligence requisite for it can be had.
The five circumstances above mentioned, though they occasion considerable inequalities in the wages of labour and profits of stock, occasion none in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages, real or imaginary, of the different employments of either. The nature of those circumstances is such, that they make up for a small pecuniary gain in some, and counterbalance a great one in others.
In order, however, that this equality may take place in the whole of their advantages or disadvantages, three things are requisite, even where there is the most perfect freedom. First the employments must be well known and long established in the neighbourhood; secondly, they must be in their ordinary, or what may be called their natural state; and, thirdly, they must be the sole or principal employments of those who occupy them.
First, this equality can take place only in those employments which are well known, and have been long established in the neighbourhood.
Where all other circumstances are equal, wages are generally higher in new than in old trades. When a projector attempts to establish a new manufacture, he must at first entice his workmen from other employments, by higher wages than they can either earn in their own trades, or than the nature of his work would otherwise require; and a considerable time must pass away before he can venture to reduce them to the common level. Manufactures for which the demand arises altogether from fashion and fancy, are continually changing, and seldom last long enough to be considered as old established manufactures. Those, on the contrary, for which the demand arises chiefly from use or necessity, are less liable to change, and the same form or fabric may continue in demand for whole centuries together. The wages of labour, therefore, are likely to be higher in manufactures of the former, than in those of the latter kind. Birmingham deals chiefly in manufactures of the former kind; Sheffield in those of the latter; and the wages of labour in those two different places are said to be suitable to this difference in the nature of their manufactures.
The establishment of any new manufacture, of any new branch of commerce, or of any new practice in agriculture, is always a speculation from which the projector promises himself extraordinary profits. These profits sometimes are very great, and sometimes, more frequently, perhaps, they are quite otherwise; but, in general, they bear no regular proportion to those of other old trades in the neighbourhood. If the project succeeds, they are commonly at first very high. When the trade or practice becomes thoroughly established and well known, the competition reduces them to the level of other trades.
Secondly, this equality in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock, can take place only in the ordinary, or what may be called the natural state of those employments.
The demand for almost every different species of labour is sometimes greater, and sometimes less than usual. In the one case, the advantages of the employment rise above, in the other they fall below the common level. The demand for country labour is greater at hay-time and harvest than during the greater part of the year; and wages rise with the demand. In time of war, when forty or fifty thousand sailors are forced from the merchant service into that of the king, the demand for sailors to merchant ships necessarily rises with their scarcity; and their wages, upon such occasions, commonly rise from a guinea and seven-and-twenty shillings to forty shillings and three pounds a-month. In a decaying manufacture, on the contrary, many workmen, rather than quit their own trade, are contented with smaller wages than would otherwise be suitable to the nature of their employment.
The profits of stock vary with the price of the commodities in which it is employed. As the price of any commodity rises above the ordinary or average rate, the profits of at least some part of the stock that is employed in bringing it to market, rise above their proper level, and as it falls they sink below it. All commodities are more or less liable to variations of price, but some are much more so than others. In all commodities which are produced by human industry, the quantity of industry annually employed is necessarily regulated by the annual demand, in such a manner that the average annual produce may, as nearly as possible, be equal to the average annual consumption. In some employments, it has already been observed, the same quantity of industry will always produce the same, or very nearly the same quantity of commodities. In the linen or woollen manufactures, for example, the same number of hands will annually work up very nearly the same quantity of linen and woollen cloth. The variations in the market price of such commodities, therefore, can arise only from some accidental variation in the demand. A public mourning raises the price of black cloth. But as the demand for most sorts of plain linen and woollen cloth is pretty uniform, so is likewise the price. But there are other employments in which the same quantity of industry will not always produce the same quantity of commodities. The same quantity of industry, for example, will, in different years, produce very different quantities of corn, wine, hops, sugar, tobacco, etc. The price of such commodities, therefore, varies not only with the variations of demand, but with the much greater and more frequent variations of quantity, and is consequently extremely fluctuating; but the profit of some of the dealers must necessarily fluctuate with the price of the commodities. The operations of the speculative merchant are principally employed about such commodities. He endeavours to buy them up when he foresees that their price is likely to rise, and to sell them when it is likely to fall.
Thirdly, this equality in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock, can take place only in such as are the sole or principal employments of those who occupy them.
When a person derives his subsistence from one employment, which does not occupy the greater part of his time, in the intervals of his leisure he is often willing to work at another for less wages than would otherwise suit the nature of the employment.
There still subsists, in many parts of Scotland, a set of people called cottars or cottagers, though they were more frequent some years ago than they are now. They are a sort of out-servants of the landlords and farmers. The usual reward which they receive from their master is a house, a small garden for pot-herbs, as much grass as will feed a cow, and, perhaps, an acre or two of bad arable land. When their master has occasion for their labour, he gives them, besides, two pecks of oatmeal a-week, worth about sixteen pence sterling. During a great part of the year, he has little or no occasion for their labour, and the cultivation of their own little possession is not sufficient to occupy the time which is left at their own disposal. When such occupiers were more numerous than they are at present, they are said to have been willing to give their spare time for a very small recompence to any body, and to have wrought for less wages than other labourers. In ancient times, they seem to have been common all over Europe. In countries ill cultivated, and worse inhabited, the greater part of landlords and farmers could not otherwise provide themselves with the extraordinary number of hands which country labour requires at certain seasons. The daily or weekly recompence which such labourers occasionally received from their masters, was evidently not the whole price of their labour. Their small tenement made a considerable part of it. This daily or weekly recompence, however, seems to have been considered as the whole of it, by many writers who have collected the prices of labour and provisions in ancient times, and who have taken pleasure in representing both as wonderfully low.
The produce of such labour comes frequently cheaper to market than would otherwise be suitable to its nature. Stockings, in many parts of Scotland, are knit much cheaper than they can anywhere be wrought upon the loom. They are the work of servants and labourers who derive the principal part of their subsistence from some other employment. More than a thousand pair of Shetland stockings are annually imported into Leith, of which the price is from fivepence to seven-pence a pair. At Lerwick, the small capital of the Shetland islands, tenpence a-day, I have been assured, is a common price of common labour. In the same islands, they knit worsted stockings to the value of a guinea a pair and upwards.
The spinning of linen yarn is carried on in Scotland nearly in the same way as the knitting of stockings, by servants, who are chiefly hired for other purposes. They earn but a very scanty subsistence, who endeavour to get their livelihood by either of those trades. In most parts of Scotland, she is a good spinner who can earn twentypence a-week.
English
In a small seaport town, a little grocer may earn forty or fifty percent on a stock of just a hundred pounds, while a substantial wholesale merchant in the same place may scarcely earn eight or ten percent on ten thousand. The grocer’s business may be necessary for the convenience of the inhabitants, while the limited market cannot support a larger capital in it. Yet the man must not only live by his trade but live in a manner fitting the qualifications it demands. Besides possessing a little capital, he must be able to read, write, and keep accounts; he must also be a fair judge of perhaps fifty or sixty kinds of goods, their prices, their qualities, and the markets where they can be bought cheapest. In short, he needs all the knowledge of a great merchant; only the lack of sufficient capital prevents him from becoming one. Thirty or forty pounds a year is hardly too much compensation for the labor of so capable a person. Deduct that from the seemingly large profits on his capital, and perhaps little more remains than the ordinary profits of stock. Most of the apparent profit here, too, is really wages.
The difference between the apparent profits of retail and wholesale trade is much smaller in the capital than in small towns and country villages. Where ten thousand pounds can be employed in the grocery trade, the grocer’s wages for his own labor add very little to the real profits of so large a stock. The apparent profits of the prosperous retailer there are consequently closer to those of the wholesale merchant. This is why goods sold at retail are generally as cheap, and often much cheaper, in the capital than in small towns and country villages. Groceries, for example, are generally much cheaper; bread and butcher’s meat are often equally cheap. It costs no more to bring groceries to the great town than to the country village; but it costs considerably more to bring corn and cattle, since most must come from much farther away. Since the prime cost of groceries is the same in both places, they are cheapest where the least profit is charged on them. The prime cost of bread and butcher’s meat is higher in the great town than in the country village; though profit is lower, they are therefore not always cheaper there, but often equally cheap. For goods such as bread and butcher’s meat, the same cause that lowers apparent profit raises prime cost. The size of the market puts greater stocks to work and lowers apparent profit, but by requiring supplies from farther away it raises prime cost. The fall in one and rise in the other seem, in most cases, nearly to offset each other. This is probably why, although corn and cattle prices commonly vary widely between parts of the kingdom, bread and butcher’s meat prices are generally much the same throughout most of it.
Though the profits of stock in both wholesale and retail trade are generally lower in the capital than in small towns and country villages, great fortunes are often made from small beginnings in the former and scarcely ever in the latter. In small towns and country villages, the limits of the market mean that trade cannot always expand as stock expands. Thus, though one person’s rate of profit may be very high in such places, the total amount of it can never be very great, nor can his yearly accumulation. In great towns, by contrast, trade can expand as stock grows, and a thrifty, flourishing man’s credit grows much faster than his stock. His trade expands in proportion to the two together; the amount of his profits grows with the extent of his trade, and his annual accumulation with the amount of his profits. Even in great towns, however, large fortunes seldom arise from a single regular, established, well-known branch of business except through a long life of industry, frugality, and attention. Sudden fortunes are sometimes made there, to be sure, through what is called speculative trade. The speculative merchant follows no single regular, established, or well-known line of business. He is a corn merchant one year, a wine merchant the next, and a sugar, tobacco, or tea merchant the year after. He enters any trade when he expects it to be unusually profitable, and leaves when he expects its profits to return to the level of other trades. His profits and losses therefore have no regular relation to those of any established and familiar business. A bold adventurer can sometimes gain a considerable fortune through two or three successful speculations, but is just as likely to lose one through two or three failures. This business can be conducted only in great towns. Only where commerce and commercial communication are most extensive is the information it requires available.
The five circumstances mentioned above, though they produce considerable inequalities in wages of labor and profits of stock, produce none in the sum of the advantages and disadvantages, real or imagined, of their different employments. Such is the nature of these circumstances that they compensate for a small monetary gain in some employments and counterbalance a large one in others.
For this equality in the sum of advantages or disadvantages to prevail, however, three conditions are needed even under the most complete freedom. First, the employments must be well known and long established in the neighborhood; second, they must be in their ordinary, or what may be called natural, state; and third, they must be the sole or principal employments of those who pursue them.
First, this equality can prevail only in employments that are well known and have long been established in the neighborhood.
Other things being equal, wages are generally higher in new trades than in old ones. When an entrepreneur tries to establish a new manufacture, he must initially lure workers from other occupations with higher wages than they could earn in their own trades, or than his work would otherwise require; considerable time must pass before he can risk reducing their wages to the usual level. Manufactures whose demand rests entirely on fashion and fancy change continually, and seldom endure long enough to become established. Those whose demand arises chiefly from use or necessity, by contrast, change less readily; the same design or fabric may remain in demand for centuries. Wages are therefore likely to be higher in manufactures of the first kind than of the second. Birmingham chiefly makes goods of the first kind; Sheffield, of the second. Wages in these two places are said to reflect this difference in their manufactures.
Establishing a new manufacture, a new branch of commerce, or a new agricultural practice is always a speculation from which its entrepreneur expects extraordinary profits. Sometimes these profits are very great; perhaps more often they are quite the opposite. In general, however, they bear no fixed relation to profits in the older local trades. If the venture succeeds, its profits are usually very high at first. Once the trade or practice becomes thoroughly established and familiar, competition reduces them to the level of other trades.
Second, equality in the sum of advantages and disadvantages of the various employments of labor and stock can prevail only when those employments are in their ordinary, or what may be called natural, state.
Demand for almost every kind of labor is sometimes greater, sometimes less, than usual. In the first case the advantages of the employment rise above the common level; in the second they fall below it. Demand for country labor is greater at haymaking and harvest than during most of the year, and wages rise with it. In wartime, when forty or fifty thousand sailors are taken from merchant service into the king’s, demand for sailors on merchant ships necessarily rises as they grow scarce; at such times their wages commonly rise from a guinea and seven-and-twenty shillings to forty shillings and three pounds a month. In a declining manufacture, conversely, many workers will accept lower wages than the nature of their employment would otherwise warrant rather than leave their trade.
Profits on stock vary with the prices of the commodities in which it is employed. When a commodity’s price rises above its ordinary or average rate, profits on at least some of the stock used to bring it to market rise above their proper level; when its price falls, they sink below it. All commodities are subject to price changes to some degree, but some far more than others. For all commodities produced by human industry, the amount of industry employed each year is necessarily governed by annual demand, so that average annual production can match average annual consumption as closely as possible. As already observed, in some employments the same amount of industry always produces the same, or very nearly the same, quantity of goods. In linen or woolen manufacture, for instance, the same number of workers processes nearly the same amount of linen and woolen cloth each year. Changes in these goods’ market prices can therefore arise only from accidental changes in demand. Public mourning raises the price of black cloth. But since demand for most kinds of plain linen and woolen cloth is fairly steady, so is their price. In other employments, however, the same amount of industry does not always produce the same quantity of goods. In different years the same amount of industry will produce very different quantities of corn, wine, hops, sugar, tobacco, etc. Their prices therefore vary not only with changes in demand, but with much greater and more frequent changes in quantity, and are consequently extremely unstable; the profits of some dealers must fluctuate with those prices. The speculative merchant deals chiefly in such commodities. He tries to buy them up when he anticipates a rise in price and sell them when he anticipates a fall.
Third, equality in the sum of advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labor and stock can prevail only where these are the sole or principal occupations of the people engaged in them.
When someone earns his living from an occupation that does not take up most of his time, he is often willing to work at another in his spare hours for less than the wages that occupation would otherwise warrant.
In many parts of Scotland there are still people called cottars or cottagers, though they were more common some years ago. They are a kind of external servant to landlords and farmers. Their usual reward from their master is a house, a small garden for pot herbs, enough grazing for a cow, and perhaps an acre or two of poor arable land. When their master needs their labor, he also gives them two pecks of oatmeal a week, worth about sixteen pence sterling. During much of the year he has little or no need of their labor, while cultivating their own little holding does not fill the time they have at their disposal. When such tenants were more numerous, they are said to have offered their spare time to anyone for very little compensation, and to have worked for lower wages than other laborers. In ancient times they seem to have been common throughout Europe. In countries poorly cultivated and still more sparsely inhabited, most landlords and farmers could not otherwise obtain the exceptional number of hands needed for country labor at certain seasons. The daily or weekly payment these laborers occasionally received from their masters was plainly not the whole price of their labor: their small tenement formed a substantial part of it. Yet many writers who have compiled ancient prices of labor and provisions, and delighted in presenting both as astonishingly low, seem to have treated that daily or weekly payment as the whole price.
The products of such labor frequently reach the market more cheaply than the nature of the work would otherwise allow. In many parts of Scotland, stockings are knitted much more cheaply than they can be made on the loom anywhere. They are made by servants and laborers who get most of their livelihood from another occupation. More than a thousand pairs of Shetland stockings are imported into Leith each year, at prices ranging from fivepence to seven-pence a pair. At Lerwick, the small capital of the Shetland islands, I have been assured that tenpence a day is the usual wage for ordinary labor. In those same islands they knit worsted stockings worth a guinea a pair and upwards.
In Scotland, linen yarn is spun much as stockings are knitted: by servants hired chiefly for other purposes. Those who try to live by either occupation alone earn only a scanty subsistence. In most parts of Scotland, a woman who can earn twentypence a week is considered a good spinner.
Book I, Chapter X, 4
18th-century English
In opulent countries, the market is generally so extensive, that any one trade is sufficient to employ the whole labour and stock of those who occupy it. Instances of people living by one employment, and, at the same time, deriving some little advantage from another, occur chiefly in poor countries. The following instance, however, of something of the same kind, is to be found in the capital of a very rich one. There is no city in Europe, I believe, in which house-rent is dearer than in London, and yet I know no capital in which a furnished apartment can be hired so cheap. Lodging is not only much cheaper in London than in Paris; it is much cheaper than in Edinburgh, of the same degree of goodness; and, what may seem extraordinary, the dearness of house-rent is the cause of the cheapness of lodging. The dearness of house-rent in London arises, not only from those causes which render it dear in all great capitals, the dearness of labour, the dearness of all the materials of building, which must generally be brought from a great distance, and, above all, the dearness of ground-rent, every landlord acting the part of a monopolist, and frequently exacting a higher rent for a single acre of bad land in a town, than can be had for a hundred of the best in the country; but it arises in part from the peculiar manners and customs of the people, which oblige every master of a family to hire a whole house from top to bottom. A dwelling-house in England means every thing that is contained under the same roof. In France, Scotland, and many other parts of Europe, it frequently means no more than a single storey. A tradesman in London is obliged to hire a whole house in that part of the town where his customers live. His shop is upon the ground floor, and he and his family sleep in the garret; and he endeavours to pay a part of his house-rent by letting the two middle storeys to lodgers. He expects to maintain his family by his trade, and not by his lodgers. Whereas at Paris and Edinburgh, people who let lodgings have commonly no other means of subsistence; and the price of the lodging must pay, not only the rent of the house, but the whole expense of the family.
PART II.—Inequalities occasioned by the Policy of Europe.
Such are the inequalities in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock, which the defect of any of the three requisites above mentioned must occasion, even where there is the most perfect liberty. But the policy of Europe, by not leaving things at perfect liberty, occasions other inequalities of much greater importance.
It does this chiefly in the three following ways. First, by restraining the competition in some employments to a smaller number than would otherwise be disposed to enter into them; secondly, by increasing it in others beyond what it naturally would be; and, thirdly, by obstructing the free circulation of labour and stock, both from employment to employment, and from place to place.
First, The policy of Europe occasions a very important inequality in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock, by restraining the competition in some employments to a smaller number than might otherwise be disposed to enter into them.
The exclusive privileges of corporations are the principal means it makes use of for this purpose.
The exclusive privilege of an incorporated trade necessarily restrains the competition, in the town where it is established, to those who are free of the trade. To have served an apprenticeship in the town, under a master properly qualified, is commonly the necessary requisite for obtaining this freedom. The bye-laws of the corporation regulate sometimes the number of apprentices which any master is allowed to have, and almost always the number of years which each apprentice is obliged to serve. The intention of both regulations is to restrain the competition to a much smaller number than might otherwise be disposed to enter into the trade. The limitation of the number of apprentices restrains it directly. A long term of apprenticeship restrains it more indirectly, but as effectually, by increasing the expense of education.
In Sheffield, no master cutler can have more than one apprentice at a time, by a bye-law of the corporation. In Norfolk and Norwich, no master weaver can have more than two apprentices, under pain of forfeiting five pounds a-month to the king. No master hatter can have more than two apprentices anywhere in England, or in the English plantations, under pain of forfeiting; five pounds a-month, half to the king, and half to him who shall sue in any court of record. Both these regulations, though they have been confirmed by a public law of the kingdom, are evidently dictated by the same corporation-spirit which enacted the bye-law of Sheffield. The silk-weavers in London had scarce been incorporated a year, when they enacted a bye-law, restraining any master from having more than two apprentices at a time. It required a particular act of parliament to rescind this bye-law.
Seven years seem anciently to have been, all over Europe, the usual term established for the duration of apprenticeships in the greater part of incorporated trades. All such incorporations were anciently called universities, which, indeed, is the proper Latin name for any incorporation whatever. The university of smiths, the university of tailors, etc. are expressions which we commonly meet with in the old charters of ancient towns. When those particular incorporations, which are now peculiarly called universities, were first established, the term of years which it was necessary to study, in order to obtain the degree of master of arts, appears evidently to have been copied from the term of apprenticeship in common trades, of which the incorporations were much more ancient. As to have wrought seven years under a master properly qualified, was necessary, in order to entitle any person to become a master, and to have himself apprentices in a common trade; so to have studied seven years under a master properly qualified, was necessary to entitle him to become a master, teacher, or doctor (words anciently synonymous), in the liberal arts, and to have scholars or apprentices (words likewise originally synonymous) to study under him.
By the 5th of Elizabeth, commonly called the Statute of Apprenticeship, it was enacted, that no person should, for the future, exercise any trade, craft, or mystery, at that time exercised in England, unless he had previously served to it an apprenticeship of seven years at least; and what before had been the bye-law of many particular corporations, became in England the general and public law of all trades carried on in market towns. For though the words of the statute are very general, and seem plainly to include the whole kingdom, by interpretation its operation has been limited to market towns; it having been held that, in country villages, a person may exercise several different trades, though he has not served a seven years apprenticeship to each, they being necessary for the conveniency of the inhabitants, and the number of people frequently not being sufficient to supply each with a particular set of hands. By a strict interpretation of the words, too, the operation of this statute has been limited to those trades which were established in England before the 5th of Elizabeth, and has never been extended to such as have been introduced since that time. This limitation has given occasion to several distinctions, which, considered as rules of police, appear as foolish as can well be imagined. It has been adjudged, for example, that a coach-maker can neither himself make nor employ journeymen to make his coach-wheels, but must buy them of a master wheel-wright; this latter trade having been exercised in England before the 5th of Elizabeth. But a wheel-wright, though he has never served an apprenticeship to a coachmaker, may either himself make or employ journeymen to make coaches; the trade of a coachmaker not being within the statute, because not exercised in England at the time when it was made. The manufactures of Manchester, Birmingham, and Wolverhampton, are many of them, upon this account, not within the statute, not having been exercised in England before the 5th of Elizabeth.
In France, the duration of apprenticeships is different in different towns and in different trades. In Paris, five years is the term required in a great number; but, before any person can be qualified to exercise the trade as a master, he must, in many of them, serve five years more as a journeyman. During this latter term, he is called the companion of his master, and the term itself is called his companionship.
In Scotland, there is no general law which regulates universally the duration of apprenticeships. The term is different in different corporations. Where it is long, a part of it may generally be redeemed by paying a small fine. In most towns, too, a very small fine is sufficient to purchase the freedom of any corporation. The weavers of linen and hempen cloth, the principal manufactures of the country, as well as all other artificers subservient to them, wheel-makers, reel-makers, etc. may exercise their trades in any town-corporate without paying any fine. In all towns-corporate, all persons are free to sell butchers’ meat upon any lawful day of the week. Three years is, in Scotland, a common term of apprenticeship, even in some very nice trades; and, in general, I know of no country in Europe, in which corporation laws are so little oppressive.
The property which every man has in his own labour, as it is the original foundation of all other property, so it is the most sacred and inviolable. The patrimony of a poor man lies in the strength and dexterity of his hands; and to hinder him from employing this strength and dexterity in what manner he thinks proper, without injury to his neighbour, is a plain violation of this most sacred property. It is a manifest encroachment upon the just liberty, both of the workman, and of those who might be disposed to employ him. As it hinders the one from working at what he thinks proper, so it hinders the others from employing whom they think proper. To judge whether he is fit to be employed, may surely be trusted to the discretion of the employers, whose interest it so much concerns. The affected anxiety of the lawgiver, lest they should employ an improper person, is evidently as impertinent as it is oppressive.
The institution of long apprenticeships can give no security that insufficient workmanship shall not frequently be exposed to public sale. When this is done, it is generally the effect of fraud, and not of inability; and the longest apprenticeship can give no security against fraud. Quite different regulations are necessary to prevent this abuse. The sterling mark upon plate, and the stamps upon linen and woollen cloth, give the purchaser much greater security than any statute of apprenticeship. He generally looks at these, but never thinks it worth while to enquire whether the workman had served a seven years apprenticeship.
The institution of long apprenticeships has no tendency to form young people to industry. A journeyman who works by the piece is likely to be industrious, because he derives a benefit from every exertion of his industry. An apprentice is likely to be idle, and almost always is so, because he has no immediate interest to be otherwise. In the inferior employments, the sweets of labour consist altogether in the recompence of labour. They who are soonest in a condition to enjoy the sweets of it, are likely soonest to conceive a relish for it, and to acquire the early habit of industry. A young man naturally conceives an aversion to labour, when for a long time he receives no benefit from it. The boys who are put out apprentices from public charities are generally bound for more than the usual number of years, and they generally turn out very idle and worthless.
Apprenticeships were altogether unknown to the ancients. The reciprocal duties of master and apprentice make a considerable article in every modern code. The Roman law is perfectly silent with regard to them. I know no Greek or Latin word (I might venture, I believe, to assert that there is none) which expresses the idea we now annex to the word apprentice, a servant bound to work at a particular trade for the benefit of a master, during a term of years, upon condition that the master shall teach him that trade.
Long apprenticeships are altogether unnecessary. The arts, which are much superior to common trades, such as those of making clocks and watches, contain no such mystery as to require a long course of instruction. The first invention of such beautiful machines, indeed, and even that of some of the instruments employed in making them, must no doubt have been the work of deep thought and long time, and may justly be considered as among the happiest efforts of human ingenuity. But when both have been fairly invented, and are well understood, to explain to any young man, in the completest manner, how to apply the instruments, and how to construct the machines, cannot well require more than the lessons of a few weeks; perhaps those of a few days might be sufficient. In the common mechanic trades, those of a few days might certainly be sufficient. The dexterity of hand, indeed, even in common trades, cannot be acquired without much practice and experience. But a young man would practice with much more diligence and attention, if from the beginning he wrought as a journeyman, being paid in proportion to the little work which he could execute, and paying in his turn for the materials which he might sometimes spoil through awkwardness and inexperience. His education would generally in this way be more effectual, and always less tedious and expensive. The master, indeed, would be a loser. He would lose all the wages of the apprentice, which he now saves, for seven years together. In the end, perhaps, the apprentice himself would be a loser. In a trade so easily learnt he would have more competitors, and his wages, when he came to be a complete workman, would be much less than at present. The same increase of competition would reduce the profits of the masters, as well as the wages of workmen. The trades, the crafts, the mysteries, would all be losers. But the public would be a gainer, the work of all artificers coming in this way much cheaper to market.
It is to prevent this reduction of price, and consequently of wages and profit, by restraining that free competition which would most certainly occasion it, that all corporations, and the greater part of corporation laws have been established. In order to erect a corporation, no other authority in ancient times was requisite, in many parts of Europe, but that of the town-corporate in which it was established. In England, indeed, a charter from the king was likewise necessary. But this prerogative of the crown seems to have been reserved rather for extorting money from the subject, than for the defence of the common liberty against such oppressive monopolies. Upon paying a fine to the king, the charter seems generally to have been readily granted; and when any particular class of artificers or traders thought proper to act as a corporation, without a charter, such adulterine guilds, as they were called, were not always disfranchised upon that account, but obliged to fine annually to the king, for permission to exercise their usurped privileges {See Madox Firma Burgi p. 26 etc.}. The immediate inspection of all corporations, and of the bye-laws which they might think proper to enact for their own government, belonged to the town-corporate in which they were established; and whatever discipline was exercised over them, proceeded commonly, not from the king, but from that greater incorporation of which those subordinate ones were only parts or members.
English
In wealthy countries, the market is generally so extensive that any one trade can employ all the labor and stock of those engaged in it. People who live by one occupation while earning a little extra from another are found mainly in poor countries. Something of the same kind, however, occurs in the capital of a very rich one. I believe that no European city has more expensive house rent than London, yet I know no capital where a furnished room can be rented so cheaply. Lodging is not only much cheaper in London than in Paris; for lodging of equal quality it is much cheaper than in Edinburgh. Odd as it may seem, high house rent causes cheap lodging. Rent is high in London partly for the reasons that make it high in all great capitals: costly labor; costly building materials, generally brought from far away; and, above all, costly ground rent, since every landlord acts as a monopolist and often charges more for one acre of poor town land than can be had for a hundred of the best acres in the country. But it is high partly because local manners and customs oblige every head of a household to rent an entire house, from top to bottom. In England a dwelling house means everything beneath a single roof. In France, Scotland, and many other parts of Europe it often means only one floor. A London tradesman must rent a whole house in the part of town where his customers live. His shop occupies the ground floor, his family and he sleep in the attic, and he tries to meet part of the house rent by letting the two middle floors to lodgers. He expects to support his family from his trade, not his lodgers. In Paris and Edinburgh, by contrast, people who let lodgings commonly have no other livelihood; the charge for lodging must cover not only the house rent but all the family’s expenses.
PART II.—Inequalities Caused by the Policy of Europe.
These are the inequalities in the sum of advantages and disadvantages of the various employments of labor and stock that arise from the absence of any one of the three conditions mentioned above, even under the fullest freedom. But European policy, by denying things that full freedom, causes other inequalities of far greater importance.
It does so chiefly in three ways: first, by restricting competition in some occupations to fewer people than would otherwise wish to enter them; second, by increasing it in others beyond its natural level; and third, by obstructing the free movement of labor and stock both between occupations and between places.
First, European policy creates a very significant inequality in the sum of advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labor and stock by restricting competition in some to fewer people than would otherwise wish to enter them.
The exclusive privileges of corporations are its chief means of doing so.
The exclusive privilege of an incorporated trade necessarily confines competition in its town to those who have the freedom of that trade. To gain this freedom one commonly has to serve an apprenticeship in the town under a properly qualified master. The corporation’s bylaws sometimes regulate how many apprentices a master may have, and almost always how many years each must serve. Both rules are intended to confine competition to far fewer people than would otherwise want to enter the trade. Limiting the number of apprentices does this directly. A long apprenticeship does so less directly, but just as effectively, by raising the cost of training.
In Sheffield, a corporation bylaw allows a master cutler no more than one apprentice at a time. In Norfolk and Norwich, a master weaver may have no more than two, on pain of forfeiting five pounds a month to the king. A master hatter may have no more than two apprentices anywhere in England or the English plantations, on pain of forfeiting five pounds a month, half to the king and half to whoever brings suit in a court of record. Although confirmed by a public law of the kingdom, both these regulations plainly spring from the same corporate spirit that enacted Sheffield’s bylaw. London’s silk weavers had been incorporated barely a year when they enacted a bylaw barring any master from keeping more than two apprentices at once. It took a special act of parliament to repeal it.
In ancient times, seven years seems to have been the usual duration of apprenticeship in most incorporated trades throughout Europe. All such incorporations were once called universities, indeed the proper Latin name for any corporation at all. The university of smiths, the university of tailors, etc., are expressions commonly found in old charters of ancient towns. When the particular corporations now called universities were first established, the period of study required for a master of arts degree was evidently modeled on the apprenticeship period in ordinary trades, whose corporations were much older. Just as seven years of work under a properly qualified master entitled a person to become a master and have apprentices of his own in an ordinary trade, so seven years of study under a properly qualified master entitled him to become a master, teacher, or doctor—terms once synonymous—in the liberal arts, and to have scholars or apprentices—also originally synonymous—study under him.
The 5th of Elizabeth, commonly called the Statute of Apprenticeship, enacted that henceforth no person might practice any trade, craft, or mystery then practiced in England without first serving an apprenticeship of at least seven years. What had been the bylaw of numerous individual corporations thus became the general public law for all trades in England’s market towns. Although the statute’s language is very broad and plainly seems to cover the whole kingdom, judicial interpretation has confined it to market towns: people in country villages have been allowed to practice several trades without a seven years apprenticeship in each, because the inhabitants need those trades and there often are not enough people to supply each with its own workers. A strict reading of its language has likewise confined the statute to trades established in England before the 5th of Elizabeth, without extending it to those introduced since. This restriction has produced distinctions that, considered as rules for public order, are about as foolish as one could imagine. It has been ruled, for instance, that a coachmaker may neither make his own coach wheels nor employ journeymen to make them, but must buy them from a master wheelwright, since wheelwrighting was practiced in England before the 5th of Elizabeth. A wheelwright, however, even without an apprenticeship to a coachmaker, may make coaches himself or hire journeymen to do it: coachmaking falls outside the statute because it was not practiced in England when the statute was passed. Many manufactures of Manchester, Birmingham, and Wolverhampton fall outside it for the same reason: they were not practiced in England before the 5th of Elizabeth.
In France, apprenticeships last different lengths of time in different towns and trades. In Paris many require five years; but in many of these trades a person must then serve five more years as a journeyman before becoming qualified to practice as a master. During this latter period he is called his master’s companion, and the period his companionship.
Scotland has no general law uniformly regulating the duration of apprenticeships. The term varies between corporations. Where it is long, one can usually redeem part of it by paying a small fine. In most towns a very small fine will also buy the freedom of any corporation. Weavers of linen and hempen cloth, the country’s principal manufactures, and all the artisans serving them—wheelmakers, reelmakers, etc.—may practice in any incorporated town without paying a fine. In all incorporated towns anyone may sell butcher’s meat on any lawful day of the week. Three years is a common Scottish apprenticeship even in some very delicate trades; and in general I know no European country whose corporation laws are less oppressive.
The property every person has in his own labor is the original foundation of all other property, and therefore the most sacred and inviolable. A poor man’s patrimony lies in the strength and skill of his hands. To prevent him from employing them as he thinks fit, when he does his neighbor no harm, is a plain violation of this most sacred property. It is an obvious encroachment on the rightful liberty of both the worker and those willing to employ him. It prevents him from working at what he chooses, and them from hiring whom they choose. Surely employers, who have so much at stake, can be trusted to judge whether he is fit for employment. The legislator’s show of anxiety that they might hire an unsuitable person is plainly as intrusive as it is oppressive.
Long apprenticeships offer no assurance that shoddy workmanship will not often be put on public sale. When that happens it is generally due to fraud, not inability, and no length of apprenticeship can guard against fraud. Entirely different rules are needed to prevent this abuse. The sterling mark on silver plate and the stamps on linen and woolen cloth give buyers much greater assurance than any apprenticeship statute. Buyers generally look for these marks, but never think it worth asking whether a worker served a seven years apprenticeship.
Long apprenticeships do nothing to make young people industrious. A journeyman paid by the piece is likely to work hard because he benefits from every exertion. An apprentice is likely to be idle, and almost always is, because he has no immediate interest in working otherwise. In humbler occupations the sweetness of labor lies entirely in its reward. Those able to enjoy that reward soonest are likeliest to develop a taste for work and acquire industrious habits early. A young man naturally comes to dislike labor when he spends a long time receiving no benefit from it. Boys apprenticed through public charities are generally bound for longer than the usual period, and generally turn out very idle and worthless.
The ancients knew nothing of apprenticeships. The reciprocal duties of master and apprentice occupy an important place in every modern legal code. Roman law says nothing at all about them. I know of no Greek or Latin word—I believe I could venture to say there is none—that conveys what we now mean by apprentice: a servant bound for a period of years to work in a particular trade for a master’s benefit on condition that the master teach him the trade.
Long apprenticeships are entirely unnecessary. Arts far more advanced than ordinary trades, such as clockmaking and watchmaking, hold no mystery requiring a long course of instruction. Inventing such beautiful machines in the first place, and even inventing some of the tools used to make them, undoubtedly required profound thought and much time, and may rightly count among the happiest achievements of human ingenuity. But once the machines and tools have been invented and are well understood, thoroughly explaining to a young man how to use the tools and construct the machines can scarcely require more than a few weeks of lessons; perhaps a few days would suffice. In ordinary mechanical trades a few days would certainly be enough. Manual skill, even in ordinary trades, admittedly takes considerable practice and experience. Yet a young man would practice far more diligently and attentively if he worked from the beginning as a journeyman, paid according to the little work he could do and himself paying for materials he sometimes spoiled through clumsiness and inexperience. His training would generally be more effective and always less tedious and expensive. The master, admittedly, would lose out: he would lose all the apprentice’s wages that he now saves over seven years. Perhaps in the end the apprentice himself would lose out too. With a trade so easily learned he would face more competitors, and his wages as a fully trained worker would be much lower than now. Increased competition would reduce masters’ profits as well as workers’ wages. Trades, crafts, mysteries—all would lose. But the public would gain, for the work of every artisan would reach the market much more cheaply.
Corporations and most corporation laws were established to prevent just this fall in prices, and hence in wages and profit, by restraining the free competition that would certainly cause it. In ancient times, in many parts of Europe, a corporation could be established solely by the authority of the incorporated town where it was situated. In England a royal charter was also required. This royal prerogative, however, seems to have been reserved more to extract money from subjects than to defend their common freedom from oppressive monopolies. Once a fine was paid to the king, the charter seems usually to have been readily granted. And when a particular group of artisans or traders chose to act as a corporation without a charter, these so-called adulterine guilds were not always stripped of their privileges on that account, but were required to pay an annual fine to the king for permission to exercise privileges they had usurped [See Madox Firma Burgi p. 26 etc.]. Direct supervision of every corporation, and of the bylaws it chose for its own governance, belonged to the incorporated town where it was established. Discipline over them usually came not from the king but from that larger corporation of which the smaller ones were parts or members.
Book I, Chapter X, 5
18th-century English
The government of towns-corporate was altogether in the hands of traders and artificers, and it was the manifest interest of every particular class of them, to prevent the market from being overstocked, as they commonly express it, with their own particular species of industry; which is in reality to keep it always understocked. Each class was eager to establish regulations proper for this purpose, and, provided it was allowed to do so, was willing to consent that every other class should do the same. In consequence of such regulations, indeed, each class was obliged to buy the goods they had occasion for from every other within the town, somewhat dearer than they otherwise might have done. But, in recompence, they were enabled to sell their own just as much dearer; so that, so far it was as broad as long, as they say; and in the dealings of the different classes within the town with one another, none of them were losers by these regulations. But in their dealings with the country they were all great gainers; and in these latter dealings consist the whole trade which supports and enriches every town.
Every town draws its whole subsistence, and all the materials of its industry, from the country. It pays for these chiefly in two ways. First, by sending back to the country a part of those materials wrought up and manufactured; in which case, their price is augmented by the wages of the workmen, and the profits of their masters or immediate employers; secondly, by sending to it a part both of the rude and manufactured produce, either of other countries, or of distant parts of the same country, imported into the town; in which case, too, the original price of those goods is augmented by the wages of the carriers or sailors, and by the profits of the merchants who employ them. In what is gained upon the first of those branches of commerce, consists the advantage which the town makes by its manufactures; in what is gained upon the second, the advantage of its inland and foreign trade. The wages of the workmen, and the profits of their different employers, make up the whole of what is gained upon both. Whatever regulations, therefore, tend to increase those wages and profits beyond what they otherwise: would be, tend to enable the town to purchase, with a smaller quantity of its labour, the produce of a greater quantity of the labour of the country. They give the traders and artificers in the town an advantage over the landlords, farmers, and labourers, in the country, and break down that natural equality which would otherwise take place in the commerce which is carried on between them. The whole annual produce of the labour of the society is annually divided between those two different sets of people. By means of those regulations, a greater share of it is given to the inhabitants of the town than would otherwise fall to them, and a less to those of the country.
The price which the town really pays for the provisions and materials annually imported into it, is the quantity of manufactures and other goods annually exported from it. The dearer the latter are sold, the cheaper the former are bought. The industry of the town becomes more, and that of the country less advantageous.
That the industry which is carried on in towns is, everywhere in Europe, more advantageous than that which is carried on in the country, without entering into any very nice computations, we may satisfy ourselves by one very simple and obvious observation. In every country of Europe, we find at least a hundred people who have acquired great fortunes, from small beginnings, by trade and manufactures, the industry which properly belongs to towns, for one who has done so by that which properly belongs to the country, the raising of rude produce by the improvement and cultivation of land. Industry, therefore, must be better rewarded, the wages of labour and the profits of stock must evidently be greater, in the one situation than in the other. But stock and labour naturally seek the most advantageous employment. They naturally, therefore, resort as much as they can to the town, and desert the country.
The inhabitants of a town being collected into one place, can easily combine together. The most insignificant trades carried on in towns have, accordingly, in some place or other, been incorporated; and even where they have never been incorporated, yet the corporation-spirit, the jealousy of strangers, the aversion to take apprentices, or to communicate the secret of their trade, generally prevail in them, and often teach them, by voluntary associations and agreements, to prevent that free competition which they cannot prohibit by bye-laws. The trades which employ but a small number of hands, run most easily into such combinations. Half-a-dozen wool-combers, perhaps, are necessary to keep a thousand spinners and weavers at work. By combining not to take apprentices, they can not only engross the employment, but reduce the whole manufacture into a sort of slavery to themselves, and raise the price of their labour much above what is due to the nature of their work.
The inhabitants of the country, dispersed in distant places, cannot easily combine together. They have not only never been incorporated, but the incorporation spirit never has prevailed among them. No apprenticeship has ever been thought necessary to qualify for husbandry, the great trade of the country. After what are called the fine arts, and the liberal professions, however, there is perhaps no trade which requires so great a variety of knowledge and experience. The innumerable volumes which have been written upon it in all languages, may satisfy us, that among the wisest and most learned nations, it has never been regarded as a matter very easily understood. And from all those volumes we shall in vain attempt to collect that knowledge of its various and complicated operations which is commonly possessed even by the common farmer; how contemptuously soever the very contemptible authors of some of them may sometimes affect to speak of him. There is scarce any common mechanic trade, on the contrary, of which all the operations may not be as completely and distinctly explained in a pamphlet of a very few pages, as it is possible for words illustrated by figures to explain them. In the history of the arts, now publishing by the French Academy of Sciences, several of them are actually explained in this manner. The direction of operations, besides, which must be varied with every change of the weather, as well as with many other accidents, requires much more judgment and discretion, than that of those which are always the same, or very nearly the same.
Not only the art of the farmer, the general direction of the operations of husbandry, but many inferior branches of country labour require much more skill and experience than the greater part of mechanic trades. The man who works upon brass and iron, works with instruments, and upon materials of which the temper is always the same, or very nearly the same. But the man who ploughs the ground with a team of horses or oxen, works with instruments of which the health, strength, and temper, are very different upon different occasions. The condition of the materials which he works upon, too, is as variable as that of the instruments which he works with, and both require to be managed with much judgment and discretion. The common ploughman, though generally regarded as the pattern of stupidity and ignorance, is seldom defective in this judgment and discretion. He is less accustomed, indeed, to social intercourse, than the mechanic who lives in a town. His voice and language are more uncouth, and more difficult to be understood by those who are not used to them. His understanding, however, being accustomed to consider a greater variety of objects, is generally much superior to that of the other, whose whole attention, from morning till night, is commonly occupied in performing one or two very simple operations. How much the lower ranks of people in the country are really superior to those of the town, is well known to every man whom either business or curiosity has led to converse much with both. In China and Indostan, accordingly, both the rank and the wages of country labourers are said to be superior to those of the greater part of artificers and manufacturers. They would probably be so everywhere, if corporation laws and the corporation spirit did not prevent it.
The superiority which the industry of the towns has everywhere in Europe over that of the country, is not altogether owing to corporations and corporation laws. It is supported by many other regulations. The high duties upon foreign manufactures, and upon all goods imported by alien merchants, all tend to the same purpose. Corporation laws enable the inhabitants of towns to raise their prices, without fearing to be undersold by the free competition of their own countrymen. Those other regulations secure them equally against that of foreigners. The enhancement of price occasioned by both is everywhere finally paid by the landlords, farmers, and labourers, of the country, who have seldom opposed the establishment of such monopolies. They have commonly neither inclination nor fitness to enter into combinations; and the clamour and sophistry of merchants and manufacturers easily persuade them, that the private interest of a part, and of a subordinate part, of the society, is the general interest of the whole.
In Great Britain, the superiority of the industry of the towns over that of the country seems to have been greater formerly than in the present times. The wages of country labour approach nearer to those of manufacturing labour, and the profits of stock employed in agriculture to those of trading and manufacturing stock, than they are said to have done in the last century, or in the beginning of the present. This change may be regarded as the necessary, though very late consequence of the extraordinary encouragement given to the industry of the towns. The stocks accumulated in them come in time to be so great, that it can no longer be employed with the ancient profit in that species of industry which is peculiar to them. That industry has its limits like every other; and the increase of stock, by increasing the competition, necessarily reduces the profit. The lowering of profit in the town forces out stock to the country, where, by creating a new demand for country labour, it necessarily raises its wages. It then spreads itself, if I my say so, over the face of the land, and, by being employed in agriculture, is in part restored to the country, at the expense of which, in a great measure, it had originally been accumulated in the town. That everywhere in Europe the greatest improvements of the country have been owing to such over flowings of the stock originally accumulated in the towns, I shall endeavour to shew hereafter, and at the same time to demonstrate, that though some countries have, by this course, attained to a considerable degree of opulence, it is in itself necessarily slow, uncertain, liable to be disturbed and interrupted by innumerable accidents, and, in every respect, contrary to the order of nature and of reason. The interests, prejudices, laws, and customs, which have given occasion to it, I shall endeavour to explain as fully and distinctly as I can in the third and fourth books of this Inquiry.
People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise prices. It is impossible, indeed, to prevent such meetings, by any law which either could be executed, or would be consistent with liberty and justice. But though the law cannot hinder people of the same trade from sometimes assembling together, it ought to do nothing to facilitate such assemblies, much less to render them necessary.
A regulation which obliges all those of the same trade in a particular town to enter their names and places of abode in a public register, facilitates such assemblies. It connects individuals who might never otherwise be known to one another, and gives every man of the trade a direction where to find every other man of it.
A regulation which enables those of the same trade to tax themselves, in order to provide for their poor, their sick, their widows and orphans, by giving them a common interest to manage, renders such assemblies necessary.
An incorporation not only renders them necessary, but makes the act of the majority binding upon the whole. In a free trade, an effectual combination cannot be established but by the unanimous consent of every single trader, and it cannot last longer than every single trader continues of the same mind. The majority of a corporation can enact a bye-law, with proper penalties, which will limit the competition more effectually and more durably than any voluntary combination whatever.
The pretence that corporations are necessary for the better government of the trade, is without any foundation. The real and effectual discipline which is exercised over a workman, is not that of his corporation, but that of his customers. It is the fear of losing their employment which restrains his frauds and corrects his negligence. An exclusive corporation necessarily weakens the force of this discipline. A particular set of workmen must then be employed, let them behave well or ill. It is upon this account that, in many large incorporated towns, no tolerable workmen are to be found, even in some of the most necessary trades. If you would have your work tolerably executed, it must be done in the suburbs, where the workmen, having no exclusive privilege, have nothing but their character to depend upon, and you must then smuggle it into the town as well as you can.
It is in this manner that the policy of Europe, by restraining the competition in some employments to a smaller number than would otherwise be disposed to enter into them, occasions a very important inequality in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock.
Secondly, the policy of Europe, by increasing the competition in some employments beyond what it naturally would be, occasions another inequality, of an opposite kind, in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock.
English
The government of incorporated towns lay entirely in the hands of traders and artisans. Each class had an obvious interest in preventing the market from being, as they commonly put it, overstocked with its particular kind of labor—which really meant keeping it perpetually understocked. Each was eager to establish rules for that purpose and, provided it could do so, was willing to let every other class do likewise. These rules did indeed force each class to buy the goods it needed from others in the town at somewhat higher prices than it might otherwise have paid. But in return each could sell its own goods for just as much more. Thus, as they say, one thing balanced the other: in dealings among the different classes within the town, none lost by these rules. In dealings with the country, however, all gained greatly; and it is trade with the country that wholly supports and enriches every town.
Every town draws all its subsistence and the materials for its industry from the country. It pays for them chiefly in two ways. First, it sends back some of those materials worked up into manufactured goods, whose price is increased by the workers’ wages and their masters’ or immediate employers’ profits. Second, it sends the country some of the raw and manufactured products of other countries or distant parts of the same country that have been brought into the town; these goods’ original price is likewise increased by the wages of carriers or sailors and the profits of the merchants who employ them. What is earned in the first kind of commerce is the town’s gain from manufacture; what is earned in the second is its gain from inland and foreign trade. Workers’ wages and their various employers’ profits make up the entire gain from both. Any regulations that raise these wages and profits above what they would otherwise be therefore enable the town to purchase the products of more country labor with the products of less of its own. They favor town traders and artisans over country landlords, farmers, and laborers, upsetting the natural equality that would otherwise prevail in their commerce. Society’s entire annual product of labor is divided each year between these two groups. Such regulations give the town inhabitants a greater share than they would otherwise receive, and the country inhabitants a smaller one.
The real price the town pays for the provisions and materials it imports each year is the quantity of manufactured and other goods it exports each year. The dearer its exports sell, the cheaper its imports are bought. Town industry becomes more advantageous, country industry less so.
We need no elaborate calculations to see that throughout Europe industry in towns is more advantageous than industry in the country. One simple and obvious observation will do. In every European country, for every one person who has made a great fortune from small beginnings by improving and cultivating land to raise raw produce, the industry proper to the country, we find at least a hundred who have done so through trade and manufacture, the industry proper to towns. Industry must therefore be better rewarded in the town than the country: the wages of labor and profits of stock must evidently be higher there. But stock and labor naturally seek the most advantageous employment. They therefore move to towns as far as they can and leave the country.
Town inhabitants, gathered in one place, can readily combine. Accordingly, even the least important town trades have been incorporated somewhere. Where they have not, the corporate spirit—the suspicion of outsiders, reluctance to take apprentices, and unwillingness to share the secrets of a trade—generally prevails nevertheless. Through voluntary associations and agreements it often teaches tradespeople to prevent the free competition that they cannot forbid by bylaw. Trades employing few hands combine most readily. Perhaps half a dozen wool combers are needed to keep a thousand spinners and weavers working. By agreeing not to take apprentices, they can not only monopolize their own work but subject the entire manufacture to a kind of servitude, raising the price of their labor far above what its nature warrants.
Country inhabitants, scattered far apart, cannot readily combine. Not only have they never been incorporated; the corporate spirit has never prevailed among them. No one has ever thought an apprenticeship necessary to qualify a person for farming, the country’s great trade. Yet apart from what are called the fine arts and the liberal professions, perhaps no trade requires such varied knowledge and experience. The countless volumes written on farming in every language show that even the wisest and most learned nations have never considered it easy to understand. And in all those volumes we shall look in vain for the knowledge of its varied and complex operations that even an ordinary farmer commonly possesses, however contemptuously the very contemptible authors of some of them sometimes affect to speak of him. By contrast, there is scarcely an ordinary mechanical trade whose every operation cannot be explained as completely and distinctly in a brief pamphlet as words aided by illustrations can explain it. Several are in fact explained this way in the history of the arts now being published by the French Academy of Sciences. Furthermore, directing work that must change with every change of weather and with many other accidents demands far more judgment and discretion than directing work that is always, or almost always, the same.
Not only farming itself, the general management of agricultural operations, but many lesser forms of country labor require much more skill and experience than most mechanical trades. A man who works brass and iron uses tools and materials whose qualities are always, or almost always, the same. But a man who plows the ground with a team of horses or oxen works with instruments whose health, strength, and temper vary greatly from one occasion to another. The condition of the material he works is as variable as that of his instruments, and both require considerable judgment and discretion in their management. Though commonly held up as a model of stupidity and ignorance, the ordinary plowman seldom lacks this judgment and discretion. He is, to be sure, less accustomed to social interaction than an urban mechanic. His voice and speech are rougher and harder for strangers to understand. Yet his mind, accustomed to attending to a wider variety of things, is generally much superior to that of the mechanic, whose attention from morning until night is usually confined to one or two very simple operations. How much the country’s lower ranks really surpass those of the town is well known to anyone who has conversed much with both, whether through business or curiosity. Accordingly, in China and Indostan both the standing and the wages of country laborers are said to exceed those of most artisans and manufacturers. They would probably do so everywhere, were it not for corporation laws and the corporate spirit.
The advantage enjoyed by town industry over country industry throughout Europe is not due solely to corporations and their laws. Many other regulations support it. Heavy duties on foreign manufactures and on all goods imported by foreign merchants serve the same purpose. Corporation laws allow town inhabitants to raise their prices without fear of being undercut by free competition from their own countrymen. These other regulations likewise protect them from foreign competitors. The higher prices produced by both are ultimately paid everywhere by the country’s landlords, farmers, and laborers, who have seldom opposed these monopolies. They commonly have neither the inclination nor the ability to organize together, and merchants and manufacturers readily persuade them with clamor and sophistry that the private interest of one part of society—and a subordinate part at that—is the general interest of all.
In Great Britain, the advantage of town industry over country industry seems to have been greater in the past than it is now. Country wages have come closer to manufacturing wages, and the profits of stock invested in agriculture closer to those of trading and manufacturing stock, than they are said to have been in the last century or at the beginning of the present one. This change may be seen as the necessary, though very late, result of the extraordinary encouragement given to town industry. Stocks amassed in towns eventually grow too great to be employed at the old rate of profit in the industries peculiar to them. Those industries have limits like every other; increasing stock increases competition and necessarily lowers profit. Falling town profits drive stock into the country, where it creates fresh demand for country labor and necessarily raises wages. It then spreads, if I may say so, over the face of the land; invested in agriculture, some of it returns to the country at whose expense it had largely been amassed in the town. I shall try to show later that the greatest agricultural improvements throughout Europe have resulted from such overflows of stock originally amassed in towns. I shall also show that although some countries have attained considerable wealth by this route, it is necessarily slow and uncertain, subject to disruption and interruption by countless accidents, and contrary in every respect to the order of nature and reason. I shall try to explain as fully and clearly as I can in the third and fourth books of this Inquiry the interests, prejudices, laws, and customs that brought it about.
People in the same trade rarely meet, even for amusement and recreation, without their conversation ending in a conspiracy against the public or some scheme to raise prices. Indeed, no law that could be enforced, or that would accord with liberty and justice, can prevent such meetings. But though the law cannot keep members of a trade from occasionally assembling, it should do nothing to make their assemblies easier, much less make them necessary.
A regulation requiring everyone in the same trade in a particular town to enter names and addresses in a public register makes such assemblies easier. It brings together people who might never otherwise have known one another and tells each member of the trade where to find every other.
A regulation permitting members of the same trade to tax themselves to provide for their poor, sick, widows, and orphans gives them a common interest to manage, making such assemblies necessary.
Incorporation not only makes the meetings necessary but binds everyone to the will of the majority. In a free trade, an effective combination can be established only by the unanimous consent of every trader, and lasts only as long as every one of them remains of the same mind. A corporation’s majority can enact a bylaw, backed by suitable penalties, that limits competition more effectively and lastingly than any voluntary combination.
The claim that corporations are needed for better governance of a trade has no foundation. The real, effective discipline imposed on a worker comes not from his corporation but from his customers. Fear of losing their business checks his fraud and corrects his negligence. An exclusive corporation necessarily weakens that discipline. Its particular group of workers must be employed whether they behave well or badly. This is why in many large incorporated towns one cannot find a tolerable worker even in some of the most necessary trades. If you want work done tolerably well, you must have it done in the suburbs, where workers have no exclusive privilege and depend solely on their reputation; then you must smuggle the finished work into town as best you can.
In this way European policy, by restricting competition in some employments to fewer people than would otherwise wish to enter them, produces a very important inequality in the sum of advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labor and stock.
Second, by increasing competition in some employments beyond what it naturally would be, European policy produces another, opposite inequality in the sum of advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of labor and stock.
Book I, Chapter X, 6
18th-century English
It has been considered as of so much importance that a proper number of young people should be educated for certain professions, that sometimes the public, and sometimes the piety of private founders, have established many pensions, scholarships, exhibitions, bursaries, etc. for this purpose, which draw many more people into those trades than could otherwise pretend to follow them. In all Christian countries, I believe, the education of the greater part of churchmen is paid for in this manner. Very few of them are educated altogether at their own expense. The long, tedious, and expensive education, therefore, of those who are, will not always procure them a suitable reward, the church being crowded with people, who, in order to get employment, are willing to accept of a much smaller recompence than what such an education would otherwise have entitled them to; and in this manner the competition of the poor takes away the reward of the rich. It would be indecent, no doubt, to compare either a curate or a chaplain with a journeyman in any common trade. The pay of a curate or chaplain, however, may very properly be considered as of the same nature with the wages of a journeyman. They are all three paid for their work according to the contract which they may happen to make with their respective superiors. Till after the middle of the fourteenth century, five merks, containing about as much silver as ten pounds of our present money, was in England the usual pay of a curate or a stipendiary parish priest, as we find it regulated by the decrees of several different national councils. At the same period, fourpence a-day, containing the same quantity of silver as a shilling of our present money, was declared to be the pay of a master mason; and threepence a-day, equal to ninepence of our present money, that of a journeyman mason. {See the Statute of Labourers, 25, Ed. III.} The wages of both these labourers, therefore, supposing them to have been constantly employed, were much superior to those of the curate. The wages of the master mason, supposing him to have been without employment one-third of the year, would have fully equalled them. By the 12th of Queen Anne, c. 12. it is declared, “That whereas, for want of sufficient maintenance and encouragement to curates, the cures have, in several places, been meanly supplied, the bishop is, therefore, empowered to appoint, by writing under his hand and seal, a sufficient certain stipend or allowance, not exceeding fifty, and not less than twenty pounds a-year”. Forty pounds a-year is reckoned at present very good pay for a curate; and, notwithstanding this act of parliament, there are many curacies under twenty pounds a-year. There are journeymen shoemakers in London who earn forty pounds a-year, and there is scarce an industrious workman of any kind in that metropolis who does not earn more than twenty. This last sum, indeed, does not exceed what is frequently earned by common labourers in many country parishes. Whenever the law has attempted to regulate the wages of workmen, it has always been rather to lower them than to raise them. But the law has, upon many occasions, attempted to raise the wages of curates, and, for the dignity of the church, to oblige the rectors of parishes to give them more than the wretched maintenance which they themselves might be willing to accept of. And, in both cases, the law seems to have been equally ineffectual, and has never either been able to raise the wages of curates, or to sink those of labourers to the degree that was intended; because it has never been able to hinder either the one from being willing to accept of less than the legal allowance, on account of the indigence of their situation and the multitude of their competitors, or the other from receiving more, on account of the contrary competition of those who expected to derive either profit or pleasure from employing them.
The great benefices and other ecclesiastical dignities support the honour of the church, notwithstanding the mean circumstances of some of its inferior members. The respect paid to the profession, too, makes some compensation even to them for the meanness of their pecuniary recompence. In England, and in all Roman catholic countries, the lottery of the church is in reality much more advantageous than is necessary. The example of the churches of Scotland, of Geneva, and of several other protestant churches, may satisfy us, that in so creditable a profession, in which education is so easily procured, the hopes of much more moderate benefices will draw a sufficient number of learned, decent, and respectable men into holy orders.
In professions in which there are no benefices, such as law and physic, if an equal proportion of people were educated at the public expense, the competition would soon be so great as to sink very much their pecuniary reward. It might then not be worth any man’s while to educate his son to either of those professions at his own expense. They would be entirely abandoned to such as had been educated by those public charities, whose numbers and necessities would oblige them in general to content themselves with a very miserable recompence, to the entire degradation of the now respectable professions of law and physic.
That unprosperous race of men, commonly called men of letters, are pretty much in the situation which lawyers and physicians probably would be in, upon the foregoing supposition. In every part of Europe, the greater part of them have been educated for the church, but have been hindered by different reasons from entering into holy orders. They have generally, therefore, been educated at the public expense; and their numbers are everywhere so great, as commonly to reduce the price of their labour to a very paltry recompence.
Before the invention of the art of printing, the only employment by which a man of letters could make any thing by his talents, was that of a public or private teacher, or by communicating to other people the curious and useful knowledge which he had acquired himself; and this is still surely a more honourable, a more useful, and, in general, even a more profitable employment than that other of writing for a bookseller, to which the art of printing has given occasion. The time and study, the genius, knowledge, and application requisite to qualify an eminent teacher of the sciences, are at least equal to what is necessary for the greatest practitioners in law and physic. But the usual reward of the eminent teacher bears no proportion to that of the lawyer or physician, because the trade of the one is crowded with indigent people, who have been brought up to it at the public expense; whereas those of the other two are encumbered with very few who have not been educated at their own. The usual recompence, however, of public and private teachers, small as it may appear, would undoubtedly be less than it is, if the competition of those yet more indigent men of letters, who write for bread, was not taken out of the market. Before the invention of the art of printing, a scholar and a beggar seem to have been terms very nearly synonymous. The different governors of the universities, before that time, appear to have often granted licences to their scholars to beg.
In ancient times, before any charities of this kind had been established for the education of indigent people to the learned professions, the rewards of eminent teachers appear to have been much more considerable. Isocrates, in what is called his discourse against the sophists, reproaches the teachers of his own times with inconsistency. “They make the most magnificent promises to their scholars,” says he, “and undertake to teach them to be wise, to be happy, and to be just; and, in return for so important a service, they stipulate the paltry reward of four or five minae.” “They who teach wisdom,” continues he, “ought certainly to be wise themselves; but if any man were to sell such a bargain for such a price, he would be convicted of the most evident folly.” He certainly does not mean here to exaggerate the reward, and we may be assured that it was not less than he represents it. Four minae were equal to thirteen pounds six shillings and eightpence; five minae to sixteen pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence. Something not less than the largest of those two sums, therefore, must at that time have been usually paid to the most eminent teachers at Athens. Isocrates himself demanded ten minae, or £ 33:6:8 from each scholar. When he taught at Athens, he is said to have had a hundred scholars. I understand this to be the number whom he taught at one time, or who attended what we would call one course of lectures; a number which will not appear extraordinary from so great a city to so famous a teacher, who taught, too, what was at that time the most fashionable of all sciences, rhetoric. He must have made, therefore, by each course of lectures, a thousand minae, or £ 3335:6:8. A thousand minae, accordingly, is said by Plutarch, in another place, to have been his didactron, or usual price of teaching. Many other eminent teachers in those times appear to have acquired great fortunes. Georgias made a present to the temple of Delphi of his own statue in solid gold. We must not, I presume, suppose that it was as large as the life. His way of living, as well as that of Hippias and Protagoras, two other eminent teachers of those times, is represented by Plato as splendid, even to ostentation. Plato himself is said to have lived with a good deal of magnificence. Aristotle, after having been tutor to Alexander, and most munificently rewarded, as it is universally agreed, both by him and his father, Philip, thought it worth while, notwithstanding, to return to Athens, in order to resume the teaching of his school. Teachers of the sciences were probably in those times less common than they came to be in an age or two afterwards, when the competition had probably somewhat reduced both the price of their labour and the admiration for their persons. The most eminent of them, however, appear always to have enjoyed a degree of consideration much superior to any of the like profession in the present times. The Athenians sent Carneades the academic, and Diogenes the stoic, upon a solemn embassy to Rome; and though their city had then declined from its former grandeur, it was still an independent and considerable republic.
Carneades, too, was a Babylonian by birth; and as there never was a people more jealous of admitting foreigners to public offices than the Athenians, their consideration for him must have been very great.
This inequality is, upon the whole, perhaps rather advantageous than hurtful to the public. It may somewhat degrade the profession of a public teacher; but the cheapness of literary education is surely an advantage which greatly overbalances this trifling inconveniency. The public, too, might derive still greater benefit from it, if the constitution of those schools and colleges, in which education is carried on, was more reasonable than it is at present through the greater part of Europe.
Thirdly, the policy of Europe, by obstructing the free circulation of labour and stock, both from employment to employment, and from place to place, occasions, in some cases, a very inconvenient inequality in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages of their different employments.
The statute of apprenticeship obstructs the free circulation of labour from one employment to another, even in the same place. The exclusive privileges of corporations obstruct it from one place to another, even in the same employment.
It frequently happens, that while high wages are given to the workmen in one manufacture, those in another are obliged to content themselves with bare subsistence. The one is in an advancing state, and has therefore a continual demand for new hands; the other is in a declining state, and the superabundance of hands is continually increasing. Those two manufactures may sometimes be in the same town, and sometimes in the same neighbourhood, without being able to lend the least assistance to one another. The statute of apprenticeship may oppose it in the one case, and both that and an exclusive corporation in the other. In many different manufactures, however, the operations are so much alike, that the workmen could easily change trades with one another, if those absurd laws did not hinder them. The arts of weaving plain linen and plain silk, for example, are almost entirely the same. That of weaving plain woollen is somewhat different; but the difference is so insignificant, that either a linen or a silk weaver might become a tolerable workman in a very few days. If any of those three capital manufactures, therefore, were decaying, the workmen might find a resource in one of the other two which was in a more prosperous condition; and their wages would neither rise too high in the thriving, nor sink too low in the decaying manufacture. The linen manufacture, indeed, is in England, by a particular statute, open to every body; but as it is not much cultivated through the greater part of the country, it can afford no general resource to the work men of other decaying manufactures, who, wherever the statute of apprenticeship takes place, have no other choice, but either to come upon the parish, or to work as common labourers; for which, by their habits, they are much worse qualified than for any sort of manufacture that bears any resemblance to their own. They generally, therefore, chuse to come upon the parish.
Whatever obstructs the free circulation of labour from one employment to another, obstructs that of stock likewise; the quantity of stock which can be employed in any branch of business depending very much upon that of the labour which can be employed in it. Corporation laws, however, give less obstruction to the free circulation of stock from one place to another, than to that of labour. It is everywhere much easier for a wealthy merchant to obtain the privilege of trading in a town-corporate, than for a poor artificer to obtain that of working in it.
The obstruction which corporation laws give to the free circulation of labour is common, I believe, to every part of Europe. That which is given to it by the poor laws is, so far as I know, peculiar to England. It consists in the difficulty which a poor man finds in obtaining a settlement, or even in being allowed to exercise his industry in any parish but that to which he belongs. It is the labour of artificers and manufacturers only of which the free circulation is obstructed by corporation laws. The difficulty of obtaining settlements obstructs even that of common labour. It may be worth while to give some account of the rise, progress, and present state of this disorder, the greatest, perhaps, of any in the police of England.
When, by the destruction of monasteries, the poor had been deprived of the charity of those religious houses, after some other ineffectual attempts for their relief, it was enacted, by the 43d of Elizabeth, c. 2. that every parish should be bound to provide for its own poor, and that overseers of the poor should be annually appointed, who, with the church-wardens, should raise, by a parish rate, competent sums for this purpose.
English
It has been thought so important that enough young people should be educated for certain professions that the public, or the piety of private founders, has sometimes established numerous pensions, scholarships, exhibitions, bursaries, etc. for this purpose. These draw many more people into those professions than could otherwise hope to enter them. In every Christian country, I believe, the education of most churchmen is paid for in this way. Very few are educated wholly at their own expense. The long, tedious, costly education of those who are, therefore, does not always earn them a fitting reward: the church is crowded with people willing, in order to obtain employment, to accept much less than such an education would otherwise entitle them to. Thus the competition of the poor takes away the reward of the rich. It would no doubt be improper to compare a curate or chaplain with a journeyman in an ordinary trade. Yet the pay of a curate or chaplain can properly be regarded as wages of the same kind as a journeyman’s. All three are paid for their work according to the contracts they happen to make with their respective superiors. Until after the middle of the fourteenth century, the usual pay in England for a curate or salaried parish priest was five merks, containing about as much silver as ten pounds of our present money, as the decrees of several national councils show. At the same time, fourpence a day, containing the same amount of silver as a shilling of our present money, was declared the pay of a master mason; and threepence a day, equal to ninepence of our present money, that of a journeyman mason. [See the Statute of Laborers, 25, Ed. III.] The wages of both these laborers, then, assuming steady employment, were much higher than the curate’s. Even if the master mason had been unemployed for a third of the year, his wages would have fully equaled the curate’s. The 12th of Queen Anne, c. 12. declares, “That whereas, for want of sufficient maintenance and encouragement to curates, the cures have, in several places, been meanly supplied, the bishop is, therefore, empowered to appoint, by writing under his hand and seal, a sufficient certain stipend or allowance, not exceeding fifty, and not less than twenty pounds a-year”. Forty pounds a year is now considered very good pay for a curate; and, despite this act of parliament, many curacies pay under twenty pounds a year. Journeymen shoemakers in London earn forty pounds a year, and scarcely any industrious workman in that city fails to earn more than twenty. Indeed, even ordinary laborers in many rural parishes frequently earn that latter sum. Whenever the law has tried to regulate workmen’s wages, its object has been to lower rather than raise them. Yet on many occasions it has tried to raise curates’ wages, and, for the dignity of the church, to compel parish rectors to give them more than the wretched living they might themselves accept. In both cases it seems to have been equally ineffective: it has managed neither to raise curates’ wages nor to lower laborers’ wages as intended. It could not prevent curates, driven by poverty and the multitude of competitors, from accepting less than the legal allowance; nor could it prevent laborers from receiving more, given the opposite competition among those who expected profit or pleasure from employing them.
The great benefices and other ecclesiastical dignities sustain the honor of the church despite the poverty of some of its lower members. The respect accorded their profession also partly compensates even those members for their meager pay. In England and all Roman Catholic countries, the church’s lottery is in fact much more favorable than it needs to be. The example of the churches of Scotland, Geneva, and several other Protestant churches shows that, in so reputable a profession, where education is so readily obtained, the prospect of much more modest benefices will attract enough learned, decent, respectable men to holy orders.
If the same proportion of people were educated at public expense for professions without benefices, such as law and medicine, competition would soon grow so intense that their financial reward would fall greatly. It might then no longer be worthwhile for anyone to educate a son for either profession at his own expense. The professions would be left entirely to those educated through public charities, whose numbers and needs would generally force them to accept miserable pay, utterly degrading the professions of law and medicine, now so respected.
That unfortunate class commonly called men of letters is much in the position lawyers and physicians would probably occupy under this supposition. Throughout Europe, most were educated for the church but prevented for various reasons from taking holy orders. They have therefore generally been educated at public expense, and their numbers everywhere are so great that the price of their labor is commonly reduced to a paltry sum.
Before the invention of printing, the only employment by which a man of letters could earn anything from his talents was teaching, publicly or privately: communicating to others the curious and useful knowledge he had acquired. Surely this remains a more honorable, more useful, and generally even more profitable occupation than writing for a bookseller, an occupation brought about by printing. The time and study, talent, knowledge, and diligence needed to become an eminent teacher of the sciences are at least equal to those needed by the greatest practitioners of law and medicine. But the usual reward of an eminent teacher bears no comparison with that of a lawyer or physician. Teaching is crowded with needy people trained at public expense, while very few enter the other two professions without paying for their own education. Yet the usual pay of public and private teachers, small as it may seem, would undoubtedly be still smaller if the competition of still poorer men of letters, who write for bread, were not removed from the market. Before printing, scholar and beggar seem to have been almost synonymous terms. University authorities in those days often appear to have granted their scholars licenses to beg.
In ancient times, before charities of this kind had been established to educate poor people for the learned professions, eminent teachers seem to have received much more substantial rewards. Isocrates, in the discourse called Against the Sophists, reproaches the teachers of his day for inconsistency. “They make the most magnificent promises to their pupils,” he says, “and undertake to teach them to be wise, happy, and just; and in return for so important a service they stipulate the paltry reward of four or five minae.” “Those who teach wisdom,” he continues, “ought surely to be wise themselves; but anyone who sold such a bargain for such a price would be guilty of the most obvious folly.” He certainly does not intend to exaggerate the reward, and we may be sure it was no less than he says. Four minae equaled thirteen pounds six shillings and eightpence; five minae, sixteen pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence. At least the larger of these sums, then, must ordinarily have been paid to the most eminent teachers in Athens. Isocrates himself charged each pupil ten minae, or £ 33:6:8. When he taught in Athens, he is said to have had a hundred pupils. I take this to mean the number he taught at one time, or who attended what we would call a single course of lectures. For so great a city and so famous a teacher, who taught rhetoric, then the most fashionable of all sciences, the number is hardly surprising. Each course of lectures must therefore have brought him a thousand minae, or £ 3335:6:8. Plutarch accordingly says elsewhere that a thousand minae was his didactron, or usual fee for teaching. Many other eminent teachers of the period seem to have acquired great fortunes. Georgias presented the temple at Delphi with a statue of himself in solid gold. We need not, I presume, suppose that it was life-size. Plato describes his style of life, and those of Hippias and Protagoras, two other eminent teachers of the age, as splendid to the point of ostentation. Plato himself is said to have lived in considerable magnificence. Aristotle, after tutoring Alexander and receiving, as is universally agreed, the most generous rewards from him and his father Philip, nevertheless thought it worthwhile to return to Athens to resume teaching at his school. Teachers of the sciences were probably less common then than they became a century or two later, when competition had probably somewhat lowered both the price of their labor and the admiration felt for them. Yet the most eminent always seem to have enjoyed a standing far higher than that of anyone in the same profession today. The Athenians sent Carneades the Academic and Diogenes the Stoic on a formal embassy to Rome; and though their city had declined from its former greatness, it was still an independent and considerable republic.
Carneades, moreover, was Babylonian by birth; and since no people were ever more reluctant than the Athenians to admit foreigners to public office, they must have held him in very high regard.
On the whole, this inequality is perhaps more beneficial than harmful to the public. It may somewhat diminish the standing of the public teacher; but cheap literary education is surely an advantage far outweighing this slight inconvenience. The public might benefit still more if the organization of the schools and colleges where education takes place were more reasonable than it now is across most of Europe.
Thirdly, European policy, by obstructing the free movement of labor and stock both between occupations and between places, sometimes produces a very troublesome inequality in the total advantages and disadvantages of different employments.
The apprenticeship statute obstructs the free movement of labor between occupations, even within a single place. The exclusive privileges of corporations obstruct its movement between places, even within a single occupation.
It often happens that while workmen in one manufacture receive high wages, those in another must make do with bare subsistence. One industry is growing and constantly needs more hands; the other is declining, and its surplus of hands continually grows. The two may operate in the same town, sometimes even in the same neighborhood, yet be unable to give one another the least help. The apprenticeship statute may prevent this in one case, and both that statute and an exclusive corporation in the other. In many manufactures, however, the operations are so similar that workers could readily change trades if these absurd laws did not stop them. Weaving plain linen and plain silk, for example, are almost exactly alike. Weaving plain wool is somewhat different, but so slightly that a linen or silk weaver could become a competent wool worker in a few days. If any one of these three major manufactures were declining, its workers could therefore find refuge in one of the other two if it were prospering; wages would neither rise too high in the thriving industry nor sink too low in the declining one. A particular statute does, indeed, open linen manufacture in England to everyone. But since it is not widely practiced in most of the country, it offers no general refuge to workers from other declining industries. Wherever the apprenticeship statute applies, their only choice is to seek parish relief or to work as ordinary laborers, for which their habits equip them much less well than for any manufacture resembling their own. They generally choose parish relief.
Anything that obstructs the free movement of labor between occupations also obstructs that of stock, since the amount of stock employable in a branch of business depends greatly on the amount of labor that can be employed there. Corporation laws, however, impede the movement of stock between places less than they impede that of labor. Everywhere it is much easier for a wealthy merchant to obtain the privilege of trading in a corporate town than for a poor artisan to obtain the privilege of working there.
The obstruction to the free movement of labor created by corporation laws is, I believe, common throughout Europe. That created by the poor laws is, as far as I know, peculiar to England. It lies in the difficulty a poor man faces in obtaining a settlement, or even being permitted to work, in any parish other than his own. Corporation laws obstruct the free movement only of artisans’ and manufacturers’ labor. The difficulty of obtaining settlement obstructs even that of ordinary laborers. It may be worthwhile to describe the origin, development, and present condition of this disorder, perhaps the worst of any in the administration of England.
When the destruction of the monasteries deprived the poor of their charity, and other attempts at relief had failed, the 43d of Elizabeth, c. 2. enacted that each parish must provide for its own poor. Overseers of the poor were to be appointed annually and, together with the churchwardens, raise adequate funds for the purpose through a parish rate.
Book I, Chapter X, 7
18th-century English
By this statute, the necessity of providing for their own poor was indispensably imposed upon every parish. Who were to be considered as the poor of each parish became, therefore, a question of some importance. This question, after some variation, was at last determined by the 13th and 14th of Charles II. when it was enacted, that forty days undisturbed residence should gain any person a settlement in any parish; but that within that time it should be lawful for two justices of the peace, upon complaint made by the church-wardens or overseers of the poor, to remove any new inhabitant to the parish where he was last legally settled; unless he either rented a tenement of ten pounds a-year, or could give such security for the discharge of the parish where he was then living, as those justices should judge sufficient.
Some frauds, it is said, were committed in consequence of this statute; parish officers sometimes bribing their own poor to go clandestinely to another parish, and, by keeping themselves concealed for forty days, to gain a settlement there, to the discharge of that to which they properly belonged. It was enacted, therefore, by the 1st of James II. that the forty days undisturbed residence of any person necessary to gain a settlement, should be accounted only from the time of his delivering notice, in writing, of the place of his abode and the number of his family, to one of the church-wardens or overseers of the parish where he came to dwell.
But parish officers, it seems, were not always more honest with regard to their own than they had been with regard to other parishes, and sometimes connived at such intrusions, receiving the notice, and taking no proper steps in consequence of it. As every person in a parish, therefore, was supposed to have an interest to prevent as much as possible their being burdened by such intruders, it was further enacted by the 3rd of William III. that the forty days residence should be accounted only from the publication of such notice in writing on Sunday in the church, immediately after divine service.
“After all,” says Doctor Burn, “this kind of settlement, by continuing forty days after publication of notice in writing, is very seldom obtained; and the design of the acts is not so much for gaining of settlements, as for the avoiding of them by persons coming into a parish clandestinely, for the giving of notice is only putting a force upon the parish to remove. But if a person’s situation is such, that it is doubtful whether he is actually removable or not, he shall, by giving of notice, compel the parish either to allow him a settlement uncontested, by suffering him to continue forty days, or by removing him to try the right.”
This statute, therefore, rendered it almost impracticable for a poor man to gain a new settlement in the old way, by forty days inhabitancy. But that it might not appear to preclude altogether the common people of one parish from ever establishing themselves with security in another, it appointed four other ways by which a settlement might be gained without any notice delivered or published. The first was, by being taxed to parish rates and paying them; the second, by being elected into an annual parish office, and serving in it a year; the third, by serving an apprenticeship in the parish; the fourth, by being hired into service there for a year, and continuing in the same service during the whole of it. Nobody can gain a settlement by either of the two first ways, but by the public deed of the whole parish, who are too well aware of the consequences to adopt any new-comer, who has nothing but his labour to support him, either by taxing him to parish rates, or by electing him into a parish office.
No married man can well gain any settlement in either of the two last ways. An apprentice is scarce ever married; and it is expressly enacted, that no married servant shall gain any settlement by being hired for a year. The principal effect of introducing settlement by service, has been to put out in a great measure the old fashion of hiring for a year; which before had been so customary in England, that even at this day, if no particular term is agreed upon, the law intends that every servant is hired for a year. But masters are not always willing to give their servants a settlement by hiring them in this manner; and servants are not always willing to be so hired, because, as every last settlement discharges all the foregoing, they might thereby lose their original settlement in the places of their nativity, the habitation of their parents and relations.
No independent workman, it is evident, whether labourer or artificer, is likely to gain any new settlement, either by apprenticeship or by service. When such a person, therefore, carried his industry to a new parish, he was liable to be removed, how healthy and industrious soever, at the caprice of any churchwarden or overseer, unless he either rented a tenement of ten pounds a-year, a thing impossible for one who has nothing but his labour to live by, or could give such security for the discharge of the parish as two justices of the peace should judge sufficient.
What security they shall require, indeed, is left altogether to their discretion; but they cannot well require less than thirty pounds, it having been enacted, that the purchase even of a freehold estate of less than thirty pounds value, shall not gain any person a settlement, as not being sufficient for the discharge of the parish. But this is a security which scarce any man who lives by labour can give; and much greater security is frequently demanded.
In order to restore, in some measure, that free circulation of labour which those different statutes had almost entirely taken away, the invention of certificates was fallen upon. By the 8th and 9th of William III. it was enacted that if any person should bring a certificate from the parish where he was last legally settled, subscribed by the church-wardens and overseers of the poor, and allowed by two justices of the peace, that every other parish should be obliged to receive him; that he should not be removable merely upon account of his being likely to become chargeable, but only upon his becoming actually chargeable; and that then the parish which granted the certificate should be obliged to pay the expense both of his maintenance and of his removal. And in order to give the most perfect security to the parish where such certificated man should come to reside, it was further enacted by the same statute, that he should gain no settlement there by any means whatever, except either by renting a tenement of ten pounds a-year, or by serving upon his own account in an annual parish office for one whole year; and consequently neither by notice nor by service, nor by apprenticeship, nor by paying parish rates. By the 12th of Queen Anne, too, stat. 1, c.18, it was further enacted, that neither the servants nor apprentices of such certificated man should gain any settlement in the parish where he resided under such certificate.
How far this invention has restored that free circulation of labour, which the preceding statutes had almost entirely taken away, we may learn from the following very judicious observation of Doctor Burn. “It is obvious,” says he, “that there are divers good reasons for requiring certificates with persons coming to settle in any place; namely, that persons residing under them can gain no settlement, neither by apprenticeship, nor by service, nor by giving notice, nor by paying parish rates; that they can settle neither apprentices nor servants; that if they become chargeable, it is certainly known whither to remove them, and the parish shall be paid for the removal, and for their maintenance in the mean time; and that, if they fall sick, and cannot be removed, the parish which gave the certificate must maintain them; none of all which can be without a certificate. Which reasons will hold proportionably for parishes not granting certificates in ordinary cases; for it is far more than an equal chance, but that they will have the certificated persons again, and in a worse condition.” The moral of this observation seems to be, that certificates ought always to be required by the parish where any poor man comes to reside, and that they ought very seldom to be granted by that which he purposes to leave. “There is somewhat of hardship in this matter of certificates,” says the same very intelligent author, in his History of the Poor Laws, “by putting it in the power of a parish officer to imprison a man as it were for life, however inconvenient it may be for him to continue at that place where he has had the misfortune to acquire what is called a settlement, or whatever advantage he may propose himself by living elsewhere.”
Though a certificate carries along with it no testimonial of good behaviour, and certifies nothing but that the person belongs to the parish to which he really does belong, it is altogether discretionary in the parish officers either to grant or to refuse it. A mandamus was once moved for, says Doctor Burn, to compel the church-wardens and overseers to sign a certificate; but the Court of King’s Bench rejected the motion as a very strange attempt.
The very unequal price of labour which we frequently find in England, in places at no great distance from one another, is probably owing to the obstruction which the law of settlements gives to a poor man who would carry his industry from one parish to another without a certificate. A single man, indeed who is healthy and industrious, may sometimes reside by sufferance without one; but a man with a wife and family who should attempt to do so, would, in most parishes, be sure of being removed; and, if the single man should afterwards marry, he would generally be removed likewise. The scarcity of hands in one parish, therefore, cannot always be relieved by their superabundance in another, as it is constantly in Scotland, and I believe, in all other countries where there is no difficulty of settlement. In such countries, though wages may sometimes rise a little in the neighbourhood of a great town, or wherever else there is an extraordinary demand for labour, and sink gradually as the distance from such places increases, till they fall back to the common rate of the country; yet we never meet with those sudden and unaccountable differences in the wages of neighbouring places which we sometimes find in England, where it is often more difficult for a poor man to pass the artificial boundary of a parish, than an arm of the sea, or a ridge of high mountains, natural boundaries which sometimes separate very distinctly different rates of wages in other countries.
To remove a man who has committed no misdemeanour, from the parish where he chooses to reside, is an evident violation of natural liberty and justice. The common people of England, however, so jealous of their liberty, but like the common people of most other countries, never rightly understanding wherein it consists, have now, for more than a century together, suffered themselves to be exposed to this oppression without a remedy. Though men of reflection, too, have sometimes complained of the law of settlements as a public grievance; yet it has never been the object of any general popular clamour, such as that against general warrants, an abusive practice undoubtedly, but such a one as was not likely to occasion any general oppression. There is scarce a poor man in England, of forty years of age, I will venture to say, who has not, in some part of his life, felt himself most cruelly oppressed by this ill-contrived law of settlements.
I shall conclude this long chapter with observing, that though anciently it was usual to rate wages, first by general laws extending over the whole kingdom, and afterwards by particular orders of the justices of peace in every particular county, both these practices have now gone entirely into disuse. “By the experience of above four hundred years,” says Doctor Burn, “it seems time to lay aside all endeavours to bring under strict regulations, what in its own nature seems incapable of minute limitation; for if all persons in the same kind of work were to receive equal wages, there would be no emulation, and no room left for industry or ingenuity.”
Particular acts of parliament, however, still attempt sometimes to regulate wages in particular trades, and in particular places. Thus the 8th of George III. prohibits, under heavy penalties, all master tailors in London, and five miles round it, from giving, and their workmen from accepting, more than two shillings and sevenpence halfpenny a-day, except in the case of a general mourning. Whenever the legislature attempts to regulate the differences between masters and their workmen, its counsellors are always the masters. When the regulation, therefore, is in favour of the workmen, it is always just and equitable; but it is sometimes otherwise when in favour of the masters. Thus the law which obliges the masters in several different trades to pay their workmen in money, and not in goods, is quite just and equitable. It imposes no real hardship upon the masters. It only obliges them to pay that value in money, which they pretended to pay, but did not always really pay, in goods. This law is in favour of the workmen; but the 8th of George III. is in favour of the masters. When masters combine together, in order to reduce the wages of their workmen, they commonly enter into a private bond or agreement, not to give more than a certain wage, under a certain penalty. Were the workmen to enter into a contrary combination of the same kind, not to accept of a certain wage, under a certain penalty, the law would punish them very severely; and, if it dealt impartially, it would treat the masters in the same manner. But the 8th of George III. enforces by law that very regulation which masters sometimes attempt to establish by such combinations. The complaint of the workmen, that it puts the ablest and most industrious upon the same footing with an ordinary workman, seems perfectly well founded.
In ancient times, too, it was usual to attempt to regulate the profits of merchants and other dealers, by regulating the price of provisions and ether goods. The assize of bread is, so far as I know, the only remnant of this ancient usage. Where there is an exclusive corporation, it may, perhaps, be proper to regulate the price of the first necessary of life; but, where there is none, the competition will regulate it much better than any assize. The method of fixing the assize of bread, established by the 31st of George II. could not be put in practice in Scotland, on account of a defect in the law, its execution depending upon the office of clerk of the market, which does not exist there. This defect was not remedied till the third of George III. The want of an assize occasioned no sensible inconveniency; and the establishment of one in the few places where it has yet taken place has produced no sensible advantage. In the greater part of the towns in Scotland, however, there is an incorporation of bakers, who claim exclusive privileges, though they are not very strictly guarded. The proportion between the different rates, both of wages and profit, in the different employments of labour and stock, seems not to be much affected, as has already been observed, by the riches or poverty, the advancing, stationary, or declining state of the society. Such revolutions in the public welfare, though they affect the general rates both of wages and profit, must, in the end, affect them equally in all different employments. The proportion between them, therefore, must remain the same, and cannot well be altered, at least for any considerable time, by any such revolutions.
English
This statute placed every parish under an absolute obligation to provide for its own poor. The question of who counted as the poor of a particular parish thus became important. After some changes, the 13th and 14th of Charles II. finally settled it, enacting that forty days of undisturbed residence would give any person a settlement in any parish. Within those forty days, however, two justices of the peace could, on a complaint by the churchwardens or overseers of the poor, remove a new inhabitant to the parish where he was last legally settled, unless he rented a dwelling at ten pounds a year or provided such security against burdening the parish where he now lived as the justices deemed sufficient.
This statute is said to have prompted some frauds: parish officers sometimes bribed their own poor to slip into another parish and hide there for forty days, thereby gaining a settlement and relieving their original parish of responsibility. The 1st of James II. therefore enacted that the forty days of undisturbed residence required to gain a settlement would be counted only from the time a person gave a churchwarden or overseer of the new parish written notice of his address and the size of his family.
It seems, however, that parish officers were not always more honest toward their own parish than toward others. Sometimes they connived at such intrusions by receiving the notice but taking no appropriate action. Since everyone in a parish was presumed to have an interest in preventing such newcomers from burdening it, the 3rd of William III. further enacted that the forty days of residence would be counted only from the publication of the written notice in church on Sunday, immediately after divine service.
“After all,” says Doctor Burn, “this kind of settlement, by continuing forty days after publication of notice in writing, is very seldom obtained; and the design of the acts is not so much for gaining of settlements, as for the avoiding of them by persons coming into a parish clandestinely, for the giving of notice is only putting a force upon the parish to remove. But if a person’s situation is such, that it is doubtful whether he is actually removable or not, he shall, by giving of notice, compel the parish either to allow him a settlement uncontested, by suffering him to continue forty days, or by removing him to try the right.”
This statute therefore made it almost impossible for a poor man to gain a new settlement by the old means of forty days’ residence. But so that it should not appear to prevent ordinary people from one parish altogether from securely establishing themselves in another, it provided four other ways to gain settlement without giving or publishing notice. The first was being assessed for and paying parish rates; the second, being elected to an annual parish office and serving for a year; the third, serving an apprenticeship in the parish; and the fourth, being hired there for a year and remaining in the same service throughout it. No one can gain a settlement by either of the first two ways without a public act of the entire parish. Its members know the consequences too well to adopt a newcomer who has only his labor for support, whether by assessing him for parish rates or electing him to a parish office.
A married man can hardly gain settlement by either of the last two ways. Apprentices are scarcely ever married, and the law expressly provides that no married servant gains a settlement by being hired for a year. The chief effect of introducing settlement by service has been largely to end the old practice of hiring for a year. That practice was once so customary in England that even today, where no particular term is agreed upon, the law presumes every servant to be hired for a year. But masters are not always willing to give their servants settlement by hiring them in this way; nor are servants always willing to accept, for each new settlement extinguishes all earlier ones. They might thereby lose their original settlement in the place of their birth, where their parents and relatives live.
Clearly no independent workman, whether laborer or artisan, is likely to gain a new settlement through apprenticeship or service. If such a person took his industry to a new parish, he could be removed at the whim of any churchwarden or overseer, however healthy and industrious he was, unless he rented a dwelling for ten pounds a year—impossible for someone who lives solely by his labor—or gave such security against burdening the parish as two justices of the peace thought sufficient.
The security required is indeed entirely at their discretion; but they can hardly demand less than thirty pounds. For the law provides that even the purchase of a freehold worth less than thirty pounds does not give a person settlement, being insufficient security against burdening the parish. Yet scarcely anyone who lives by labor can provide such security, and considerably more is often demanded.
To restore some measure of the free movement of labor almost wholly abolished by these statutes, certificates were devised. The 8th and 9th of William III. enacted that any person bringing a certificate from the parish of his last legal settlement, signed by its churchwardens and overseers of the poor and approved by two justices of the peace, must be received by every other parish. He could not be removed merely because he was likely to become a charge, but only if he actually did; and in that event the parish issuing the certificate would have to pay both for his maintenance and his removal. To give the parish receiving such a certificated person the fullest security, the same statute further enacted that he could acquire no settlement there by any means except renting a dwelling for ten pounds a year or serving on his own account in an annual parish office for one whole year. He could not do so, consequently, by notice, service, apprenticeship, or payment of parish rates. The 12th of Queen Anne, stat. 1, c.18, further enacted that neither the servants nor apprentices of such a certificated person could gain settlement in the parish where he lived under the certificate.
How far this device restored the free movement of labor almost entirely lost under the previous statutes can be gathered from this very perceptive observation by Doctor Burn. “It is obvious,” he says, “that there are divers good reasons for requiring certificates with persons coming to settle in any place; namely, that persons residing under them can gain no settlement, neither by apprenticeship, nor by service, nor by giving notice, nor by paying parish rates; that they can settle neither apprentices nor servants; that if they become chargeable, it is certainly known where to remove them, and the parish shall be paid for the removal, and for their maintenance in the mean time; and that, if they fall sick, and cannot be removed, the parish which gave the certificate must maintain them; none of all which can be without a certificate. Which reasons will hold proportionably for parishes not granting certificates in ordinary cases; for it is far more than an equal chance, but that they will have the certificated persons again, and in a worse condition.” The lesson of this observation seems to be that a parish where a poor man arrives should always demand a certificate, while the parish he intends to leave should very seldom grant one. “There is somewhat of hardship in this matter of certificates,” says the same highly intelligent author in his History of the Poor Laws, “by putting it in the power of a parish officer to imprison a man as it were for life, however inconvenient it may be for him to continue at that place where he has had the misfortune to acquire what is called a settlement, or whatever advantage he may propose himself by living elsewhere.”
A certificate offers no testimony to good behavior: it certifies only that the person belongs to the parish to which he actually belongs. Yet parish officers have complete discretion to grant or refuse it. Doctor Burn says that a mandamus was once sought to compel churchwardens and overseers to sign a certificate; the Court of King’s Bench dismissed the motion as a very strange attempt.
The sharp differences in the price of labor often found between places quite close together in England are probably due to the law of settlements, which obstructs a poor man wishing to carry his industry from one parish to another without a certificate. A single man who is healthy and industrious might sometimes be allowed to stay without one. But in most parishes a man with a wife and family who tried this would certainly be removed; and if the single man later married, he would generally be removed too. Thus a shortage of hands in one parish cannot always be relieved by a surplus in another, as constantly happens in Scotland and, I believe, in every other country where settlement presents no difficulty. In those countries wages may rise somewhat near a great town or wherever demand for labor is unusually high, and gradually decline with distance until they return to the country’s ordinary rate. But we never find the abrupt, inexplicable differences in wages between neighboring places that we sometimes find in England, where it is often harder for a poor man to cross a parish’s artificial boundary than an arm of the sea or a ridge of high mountains—natural boundaries that sometimes sharply separate different rates of wages in other countries.
To remove someone guilty of no offense from the parish where he chooses to live is an obvious violation of natural liberty and justice. Yet the ordinary people of England, jealous as they are of their liberty but, like ordinary people in most countries, never properly understanding what it consists of, have endured this oppression without remedy for more than a century. Reflective men have sometimes complained of the law of settlements as a public grievance, but it has never aroused a general popular outcry like the outcry against general warrants—undoubtedly an abusive practice, but not one likely to inflict general oppression. I venture to say that scarcely any poor man of forty in England has not, at some point in his life, felt cruelly oppressed by this ill-designed law of settlements.
I shall close this long chapter by observing that although wages used to be fixed first by general laws covering the entire kingdom and later by particular orders of justices of the peace in each county, both practices have now fallen entirely out of use. “By the experience of above four hundred years,” says Doctor Burn, “it seems time to lay aside all endeavors to bring under strict regulations, what in its own nature seems incapable of minute limitation; for if all persons in the same kind of work were to receive equal wages, there would be no emulation, and no room left for industry or ingenuity.”
Particular acts of parliament still sometimes try, however, to regulate wages in particular trades and places. Thus the 8th of George III. forbids, under heavy penalties, all master tailors in London and within five miles of it to pay, and their workers to accept, more than two shillings and sevenpence halfpenny a day, except during a general mourning. Whenever the legislature tries to regulate disputes between masters and workers, it always takes its counsel from the masters. A regulation favoring workers is therefore always just and equitable; one favoring masters is sometimes otherwise. Thus the law requiring masters in several trades to pay workers in money rather than goods is entirely just and equitable. It imposes no real hardship on the masters. It merely requires them to pay in money the value they claimed to pay in goods but did not always actually pay. This law favors workers; the 8th of George III. favors masters. When masters join together to reduce their workers’ wages, they commonly enter a private bond or agreement, under penalty, to pay no more than a fixed wage. If workers formed an opposite combination of the same kind, agreeing under penalty not to accept a fixed wage, the law would punish them very severely. If it acted impartially, it would treat the masters the same way. But the 8th of George III. gives legal force to the very rule that masters sometimes try to establish through such combinations. The workers’ complaint that it puts the most able and industrious on the same footing as ordinary workers seems perfectly justified.
In former times, too, it was customary to try to regulate the profits of merchants and other dealers by fixing the prices of provisions and other goods. The assize of bread is, as far as I know, the only survival of this old practice. Where an exclusive corporation exists, it may perhaps be appropriate to regulate the price of life’s first necessity; but where none exists, competition will regulate it far better than any assize. The method of fixing the assize of bread established by the 31st of George II. could not be implemented in Scotland because of a defect in the law: enforcement depended on the office of clerk of the market, which did not exist there. The defect was not remedied until the third of George III. The absence of an assize caused no perceptible inconvenience, and establishing one in the few places where this has been done has yielded no perceptible benefit. In most Scottish towns, however, bakers have a corporation claiming exclusive privileges, although those privileges are not very strictly protected. As already observed, the relative rates of wages and profit across different employments of labor and stock seem little affected by whether society is rich or poor, advancing, stationary, or declining. Such changes in public welfare, though they affect the general rates of both wages and profit, must eventually affect all employments alike. The proportion between those rates must therefore remain the same, and cannot readily be altered by such changes, at least for any considerable time.
Book I, Chapter XI, 1
18th-century English
OF THE RENT OF LAND.
Rent, considered as the price paid for the use of land, is naturally the highest which the tenant can afford to pay in the actual circumstances of the land. In adjusting the terms of the lease, the landlord endeavours to leave him no greater share of the produce than what is sufficient to keep up the stock from which he furnishes the seed, pays the labour, and purchases and maintains the cattle and other instruments of husbandry, together with the ordinary profits of farming stock in the neighbourhood. This is evidently the smallest share with which the tenant can content himself, without being a loser, and the landlord seldom means to leave him any more. Whatever part of the produce, or, what is the same thing, whatever part of its price, is over and above this share, he naturally endeavours to reserve to himself as the rent of his land, which is evidently the highest the tenant can afford to pay in the actual circumstances of the land. Sometimes, indeed, the liberality, more frequently the ignorance, of the landlord, makes him accept of somewhat less than this portion; and sometimes, too, though more rarely, the ignorance of the tenant makes him undertake to pay somewhat more, or to content himself with somewhat less, than the ordinary profits of farming stock in the neighbourhood. This portion, however, may still be considered as the natural rent of land, or the rent at which it is naturally meant that land should, for the most part, be let.
The rent of land, it may be thought, is frequently no more than a reasonable profit or interest for the stock laid out by the landlord upon its improvement. This, no doubt, may be partly the case upon some occasions; for it can scarce ever be more than partly the case. The landlord demands a rent even for unimproved land, and the supposed interest or profit upon the expense of improvement is generally an addition to this original rent. Those improvements, besides, are not always made by the stock of the landlord, but sometimes by that of the tenant. When the lease comes to be renewed, however, the landlord commonly demands the same augmentation of rent as if they had been all made by his own.
He sometimes demands rent for what is altogether incapable of human improvements. Kelp is a species of sea-weed, which, when burnt, yields an alkaline salt, useful for making glass, soap, and for several other purposes. It grows in several parts of Great Britain, particularly in Scotland, upon such rocks only as lie within the high-water mark, which are twice every day covered with the sea, and of which the produce, therefore, was never augmented by human industry. The landlord, however, whose estate is bounded by a kelp shore of this kind, demands a rent for it as much as for his corn-fields.
The sea in the neighbourhood of the islands of Shetland is more than commonly abundant in fish, which makes a great part of the subsistence of their inhabitants. But, in order to profit by the produce of the water, they must have a habitation upon the neighbouring land. The rent of the landlord is in proportion, not to what the farmer can make by the land, but to what he can make both by the land and the water. It is partly paid in sea-fish; and one of the very few instances in which rent makes a part of the price of that commodity, is to be found in that country.
The rent of land, therefore, considered as the price paid for the use of the land, is naturally a monopoly price. It is not at all proportioned to what the landlord may have laid out upon the improvement of the land, or to what he can afford to take, but to what the farmer can afford to give.
Such parts only of the produce of land can commonly be brought to market, of which the ordinary price is sufficient to replace the stock which must be employed in bringing them thither, together with its ordinary profits. If the ordinary price is more than this, the surplus part of it will naturally go to the rent of the land. If it is not more, though the commodity may be brought to market, it can afford no rent to the landlord. Whether the price is, or is not more, depends upon the demand.
There are some parts of the produce of land, for which the demand must always be such as to afford a greater price than what is sufficient to bring them to market; and there are others for which it either may or may not be such as to afford this greater price. The former must always afford a rent to the landlord. The latter sometimes may and sometimes may not, according to different circumstances.
Rent, it is to be observed, therefore, enters into the composition of the price of commodities in a different way from wages and profit. High or low wages and profit are the causes of high or low price; high or low rent is the effect of it. It is because high or low wages and profit must be paid, in order to bring a particular commodity to market, that its price is high or low. But it is because its price is high or low, a great deal more, or very little more, or no more, than what is sufficient to pay those wages and profit, that it affords a high rent, or a low rent, or no rent at all.
The particular consideration, first, of those parts of the produce of land which always afford some rent; secondly, of those which sometimes may and sometimes may not afford rent; and, thirdly, of the variations which, in the different periods of improvement, naturally take place in the relative value of those two different sorts of rude produce, when compared both with one another and with manufactured commodities, will divide this chapter into three parts.
PART I.—Of the Produce of Land which always affords Rent.
As men, like all other animals, naturally multiply in proportion to the means of their subsistence, food is always more or less in demand. It can always purchase or command a greater or smaller quantity of labour, and somebody can always be found who is willing to do something in order to obtain it. The quantity of labour, indeed, which it can purchase, is not always equal to what it could maintain, if managed in the most economical manner, on account of the high wages which are sometimes given to labour; but it can always purchase such a quantity of labour as it can maintain, according to the rate at which that sort of labour is commonly maintained in the neighbourhood.
But land, in almost any situation, produces a greater quantity of food than what is sufficient to maintain all the labour necessary for bringing it to market, in the most liberal way in which that labour is ever maintained. The surplus, too, is always more than sufficient to replace the stock which employed that labour, together with its profits. Something, therefore, always remains for a rent to the landlord.
The most desert moors in Norway and Scotland produce some sort of pasture for cattle, of which the milk and the increase are always more than sufficient, not only to maintain all the labour necessary for tending them, and to pay the ordinary profit to the farmer or the owner of the herd or flock, but to afford some small rent to the landlord. The rent increases in proportion to the goodness of the pasture. The same extent of ground not only maintains a greater number of cattle, but as they are brought within a smaller compass, less labour becomes requisite to tend them, and to collect their produce. The landlord gains both ways; by the increase of the produce, and by the diminution of the labour which must be maintained out of it.
The rent of land not only varies with its fertility, whatever be its produce, but with its situation, whatever be its fertility. Land in the neighbourhood of a town gives a greater rent than land equally fertile in a distant part of the country. Though it may cost no more labour to cultivate the one than the other, it must always cost more to bring the produce of the distant land to market. A greater quantity of labour, therefore, must be maintained out of it; and the surplus, from which are drawn both the profit of the farmer and the rent of the landlord, must be diminished. But in remote parts of the country, the rate of profit, as has already been shewn, is generally higher than in the neighbourhood of a large town. A smaller proportion of this diminished surplus, therefore, must belong to the landlord.
Good roads, canals, and navigable rivers, by diminishing the expense of carriage, put the remote parts of the country more nearly upon a level with those in the neighbourhood of the town. They are upon that account the greatest of all improvements. They encourage the cultivation of the remote, which must always be the most extensive circle of the country. They are advantageous to the town by breaking down the monopoly of the country in its neighbourhood. They are advantageous even to that part of the country. Though they introduce some rival commodities into the old market, they open many new markets to its produce. Monopoly, besides, is a great enemy to good management, which can never be universally established, but in consequence of that free and universal competition which forces every body to have recourse to it for the sake of self defence. It is not more than fifty years ago, that some of the counties in the neighbourhood of London petitioned the parliament against the extension of the turnpike roads into the remoter counties. Those remoter counties, they pretended, from the cheapness of labour, would be able to sell their grass and corn cheaper in the London market than themselves, and would thereby reduce their rents, and ruin their cultivation. Their rents, however, have risen, and their cultivation has been improved since that time.
A corn field of moderate fertility produces a much greater quantity of food for man, than the best pasture of equal extent. Though its cultivation requires much more labour, yet the surplus which remains after replacing the seed and maintaining all that labour, is likewise much greater. If a pound of butcher’s meat, therefore, was never supposed to be worth more than a pound of bread, this greater surplus would everywhere be of greater value and constitute a greater fund, both for the profit of the farmer and the rent of the landlord. It seems to have done so universally in the rude beginnings of agriculture.
But the relative values of those two different species of food, bread and butcher’s meat, are very different in the different periods of agriculture. In its rude beginnings, the unimproved wilds, which then occupy the far greater part of the country, are all abandoned to cattle. There is more butcher’s meat than bread; and bread, therefore, is the food for which there is the greatest competition, and which consequently brings the greatest price. At Buenos Ayres, we are told by Ulloa, four reals, one-and-twenty pence halfpenny sterling, was, forty or fifty years ago, the ordinary price of an ox, chosen from a herd of two or three hundred. He says nothing of the price of bread, probably because he found nothing remarkable about it. An ox there, he says, costs little more than the labour of catching him. But corn can nowhere be raised without a great deal of labour; and in a country which lies upon the river Plate, at that time the direct road from Europe to the silver mines of Potosi, the money-price of labour could be very cheap. It is otherwise when cultivation is extended over the greater part of the country. There is then more bread than butcher’s meat. The competition changes its direction, and the price of butcher’s meat becomes greater than the price of bread.
By the extension, besides, of cultivation, the unimproved wilds become insufficient to supply the demand for butcher’s meat. A great part of the cultivated lands must be employed in rearing and fattening cattle; of which the price, therefore, must be sufficient to pay, not only the labour necessary for tending them, but the rent which the landlord, and the profit which the farmer, could have drawn from such land employed in tillage. The cattle bred upon the most uncultivated moors, when brought to the same market, are, in proportion to their weight or goodness, sold at the same price as those which are reared upon the most improved land. The proprietors of those moors profit by it, and raise the rent of their land in proportion to the price of their cattle. It is not more than a century ago, that in many parts of the Highlands of Scotland, butcher’s meat was as cheap or cheaper than even bread made of oatmeal. The Union opened the market of England to the Highland cattle. Their ordinary price, at present, is about three times greater than at the beginning of the century, and the rents of many Highland estates have been tripled and quadrupled in the same time. In almost every part of Great Britain, a pound of the best butcher’s meat is, in the present times, generally worth more than two pounds of the best white bread; and in plentiful years it is sometimes worth three or four pounds.
It is thus that, in the progress of improvement, the rent and profit of unimproved pasture come to be regulated in some measure by the rent and profit of what is improved, and these again by the rent and profit of corn. Corn is an annual crop; butcher’s meat, a crop which requires four or five years to grow. As an acre of land, therefore, will produce a much smaller quantity of the one species of food than of the other, the inferiority of the quantity must be compensated by the superiority of the price. If it was more than compensated, more corn-land would be turned into pasture; and if it was not compensated, part of what was in pasture would be brought back into corn.
This equality, however, between the rent and profit of grass and those of corn; of the land of which the immediate produce is food for cattle, and of that of which the immediate produce is food for men, must be understood to take place only through the greater part of the improved lands of a great country. In some particular local situations it is quite otherwise, and the rent and profit of grass are much superior to what can be made by corn.
Thus, in the neighbourhood of a great town, the demand for milk, and for forage to horses, frequently contribute, together with the high price of butcher’s meat, to raise the value of grass above what may be called its natural proportion to that of corn. This local advantage, it is evident, cannot be communicated to the lands at a distance.
Particular circumstances have sometimes rendered some countries so populous, that the whole territory, like the lands in the neighbourhood of a great town, has not been sufficient to produce both the grass and the corn necessary for the subsistence of their inhabitants. Their lands, therefore, have been principally employed in the production of grass, the more bulky commodity, and which cannot be so easily brought from a great distance; and corn, the food of the great body of the people, has been chiefly imported from foreign countries. Holland is at present in this situation; and a considerable part of ancient Italy seems to have been so during the prosperity of the Romans. To feed well, old Cato said, as we are told by Cicero, was the first and most profitable thing in the management of a private estate; to feed tolerably well, the second; and to feed ill, the third. To plough, he ranked only in the fourth place of profit and advantage. Tillage, indeed, in that part of ancient Italy which lay in the neighbour hood of Rome, must have been very much discouraged by the distributions of corn which were frequently made to the people, either gratuitously, or at a very low price. This corn was brought from the conquered provinces, of which several, instead of taxes, were obliged to furnish a tenth part of their produce at a stated price, about sixpence a-peck, to the republic. The low price at which this corn was distributed to the people, must necessarily have sunk the price of what could be brought to the Roman market from Latium, or the ancient territory of Rome, and must have discouraged its cultivation in that country.
English
OF THE RENT OF LAND.
Rent, regarded as the price paid for the use of land, is naturally the highest sum a tenant can afford in the land’s actual circumstances. In setting the terms of the lease, the landlord tries to leave him no more of the produce than is needed to maintain the stock from which he supplies seed, pays labor, and buys and maintains cattle and other farming equipment, together with the ordinary profits of farming stock in the neighborhood. This is clearly the least the tenant can accept without losing money, and the landlord seldom intends to leave him more. Whatever part of the produce—or, equivalently, of its price—exceeds that share, the landlord naturally tries to keep as rent: clearly the most the tenant can afford to pay under the circumstances. Sometimes the landlord’s generosity, and more often his ignorance, leads him to accept somewhat less. On rarer occasions the tenant’s ignorance leads him to promise somewhat more, or to accept somewhat less than the ordinary profit on farming stock in the neighborhood. This share, nevertheless, may be regarded as the natural rent of land, or the rent at which land is naturally expected, for the most part, to be leased.
It might be thought that land rent is often nothing more than a reasonable profit or interest on the stock the landlord has spent improving it. This may, no doubt, sometimes be partly true; it can scarcely ever be wholly true. A landlord demands rent even for unimproved land, and the supposed interest or profit on the cost of improvement is generally added to this original rent. Moreover, improvements are not always made with the landlord’s stock; sometimes the tenant pays for them. When the lease is renewed, however, the landlord ordinarily demands the same increase in rent as if he had paid for them all himself.
Sometimes he demands rent for something wholly incapable of human improvement. Kelp is a kind of seaweed which, when burned, yields an alkaline salt useful in making glass, soap, and for several other purposes. In parts of Great Britain, particularly Scotland, it grows only on rocks below the high-water mark, covered by the sea twice a day. Human industry has therefore never increased their produce. Yet a landlord whose estate borders a kelp-bearing shore demands rent for it just as he does for his cornfields.
The sea around the Shetland islands is unusually rich in fish, which furnish much of the inhabitants’ food. But to profit from the produce of the water, they need a home on the neighboring land. The landlord’s rent is proportioned not to what a farmer can earn from the land alone, but to what he can earn from both land and water. Part of it is paid in sea fish; and one of the very few cases where rent forms part of the price of that commodity is found in this country.
Rent, then, considered as the price paid for using land, is naturally a monopoly price. It is proportioned neither to what the landlord has spent improving the land nor to what he can afford to accept, but to what the farmer can afford to pay.
Ordinarily, only those parts of the land’s produce whose usual price is enough to replace the stock employed in bringing them to market, together with its ordinary profits, can reach the market. If the ordinary price exceeds this amount, the surplus naturally goes toward land rent. If it does not, the commodity may still reach the market but can yield the landlord no rent. Whether the price exceeds it depends on demand.
For some kinds of land produce, demand must always bring a price above what is needed to get them to market; for others, it may or may not bring such a price. The former must always yield the landlord rent. The latter may or may not, depending on circumstances.
We must observe, therefore, that rent enters into the price of commodities differently from wages and profit. High or low wages and profit are causes of high or low prices; high or low rent is their effect. A commodity’s price is high or low because high or low wages and profit must be paid to bring it to market. But it yields high rent, low rent, or none at all because its price exceeds the amount needed to pay those wages and profit by a great deal, a little, or not at all.
A particular examination, first, of the parts of land produce that always yield some rent; second, of those that sometimes do and sometimes do not; and third, of the changes occurring naturally at different stages of improvement in the relative values of these two kinds of raw produce, both to each other and to manufactured goods, will divide this chapter into three parts.
PART I.—Of the Produce of Land That Always Yields Rent.
Because humans, like all other animals, naturally multiply in proportion to their means of subsistence, food is always in some demand. It can always buy or command some amount of labor, and someone can always be found willing to do something to obtain it. The amount of labor it can buy is not always as much as it could support if managed with the greatest economy, because labor is sometimes paid high wages. But it can always buy as much labor as it can support at the customary rate for maintaining that kind of labor in the neighborhood.
Land in almost any situation produces more food than is needed to support, even at the most generous rate of maintenance, all the labor required to bring it to market. The surplus is also always more than enough to replace the stock that employed the labor, together with its profits. Something therefore always remains as rent for the landlord.
Even the most barren moors of Norway and Scotland provide some pasture for cattle. Their milk and increase are always more than enough not only to support all the labor needed to tend them and pay the ordinary profit to the farmer or owner of the herd or flock, but also to yield a little rent to the landlord. Rent rises with the quality of the pasture. The same area supports more cattle; and since they are kept closer together, less labor is needed to tend them and collect their produce. The landlord gains in both ways: from increased produce and from reduced labor that must be supported out of it.
Rent varies not only with fertility, whatever the land produces, but also with location, however fertile it is. Land near a town yields higher rent than equally fertile land in a distant part of the country. Cultivating one may cost no more labor than cultivating the other, but bringing the distant land’s produce to market must always cost more. More labor must therefore be supported from its produce, reducing the surplus from which both the farmer’s profit and the landlord’s rent are drawn. But, as already shown, the rate of profit is generally higher in remote districts than near a large town. An even smaller share of this reduced surplus must therefore go to the landlord.
Good roads, canals, and navigable rivers reduce transport costs and put remote districts more nearly on a level with those near a town. For that reason they are the greatest improvements of all. They encourage cultivation of remote land, which must always make up the largest part of the country. They benefit the town by breaking the monopoly held by its surrounding countryside. They benefit even that countryside: though they introduce competing goods to its old market, they open many new markets for its produce. Monopoly, moreover, is a great enemy of good management, which can become universal only through free and universal competition, compelling everyone to practice it in self-defense. Not more than fifty years ago, some counties near London petitioned parliament against extending turnpike roads to more distant counties. They claimed those counties, with their cheap labor, could sell grass and corn in the London market for less than they could, lowering their rents and ruining their cultivation. Since then, however, their rents have risen and their cultivation has improved.
A cornfield of moderate fertility produces far more food for humans than the best pasture of equal size. Though growing corn requires much more labor, the surplus left after replacing the seed and supporting all that labor is also much greater. If a pound of butcher’s meat were never considered worth more than a pound of bread, this greater surplus would everywhere have greater value and provide a greater fund for both the farmer’s profit and the landlord’s rent. This seems to have been the universal case in the early, undeveloped stages of agriculture.
But the relative values of bread and butcher’s meat, these two kinds of food, differ greatly at different stages of agriculture. In its early stages, the unimproved wilds covering most of the country are all left to cattle. There is more meat than bread; competition is therefore greatest for bread, which accordingly commands the higher price. According to Ulloa, at Buenos Ayres four reals, one-and-twenty pence halfpenny sterling, was, forty or fifty years ago, the usual price of an ox chosen from a herd of two or three hundred. He says nothing about the price of bread, probably because he found nothing remarkable in it. Catching an ox, he says, costs little more than the labor involved. Corn, however, cannot be raised anywhere without considerable labor; and in a country on the river Plate, then the direct route from Europe to the silver mines of Potosi, the money price of labor could be very cheap. Matters change when cultivation spreads across most of the country. Bread then becomes more plentiful than meat. Competition shifts direction, and the price of butcher’s meat rises above the price of bread.
As cultivation spreads, moreover, the unimproved wilds become inadequate to meet the demand for butcher’s meat. Much cultivated land must be devoted to raising and fattening cattle. Their price must consequently cover not only the labor required to tend them, but also the rent the landlord and the profit the farmer could have obtained from growing crops on that land. Cattle bred on the least cultivated moors, when taken to the same market, sell at the same price, according to weight or quality, as cattle raised on the most improved land. The owners of the moors benefit and raise their rents in proportion to the price of cattle. Not more than a century ago, in many parts of the Scottish Highlands, butcher’s meat cost no more than, or even less than, bread made from oatmeal. The Union opened the English market to Highland cattle. Their usual price is now about three times what it was at the beginning of the century, and rents on many Highland estates have tripled or quadrupled over the same period. In nearly every part of Great Britain today, a pound of the best butcher’s meat is generally worth more than two pounds of the best white bread; in abundant years, it is sometimes worth three or four pounds.
Thus, as improvement advances, the rent and profit of unimproved pasture come to be governed in some measure by those of improved pasture, and these in turn by the rent and profit of corn land. Corn is an annual crop; butcher’s meat takes four or five years to grow. Since an acre of land produces much less of one kind of food than the other, its lower quantity must be offset by a higher price. If the price more than offset it, more corn land would become pasture; if it failed to offset it, some pasture would revert to corn.
This equality between the rent and profit of grass and those of corn—between land whose immediate produce feeds cattle and land whose immediate produce feeds people—must, however, be understood as applying only across most improved lands of a great country. In certain local situations things are quite different, and grass yields much higher rent and profit than corn could.
Thus, near a great town, demand for milk and horse fodder, together with the high price of butcher’s meat, often raises the value of grass beyond what might be called its natural proportion to the value of corn. Clearly this local advantage cannot extend to distant lands.
Particular circumstances have sometimes made countries so populous that their entire territory, like the lands near a great town, cannot produce both the grass and corn needed to sustain their inhabitants. Their land has therefore been used chiefly to produce grass, the bulkier commodity, which cannot be transported so easily from far away. Corn, the food of the great body of the people, has chiefly been imported. Holland is now in this position, and much of ancient Italy seems to have been so during Roman prosperity. According to Cicero, old Cato said that the first and most profitable practice in managing a private estate was to feed cattle well; the second, to feed them tolerably well; and the third, to feed them poorly. He placed plowing only fourth in profitability and advantage. Cultivation near Rome in ancient Italy must indeed have been greatly discouraged by the distributions of corn often made to the people free of charge or at a very low price. This corn came from conquered provinces, several of which, in place of taxes, were required to supply the republic a tenth of their produce at a fixed price of about sixpence a peck. The low price at which it was distributed to the people must necessarily have depressed the price of corn brought to the Roman market from Latium, the ancient territory of Rome, and discouraged cultivation there.
Book I, Chapter XI, 2
18th-century English
In an open country, too, of which the principal produce is corn, a well-inclosed piece of grass will frequently rent higher than any corn field in its neighbourhood. It is convenient for the maintenance of the cattle employed in the cultivation of the corn; and its high rent is, in this case, not so properly paid from the value of its own produce, as from that of the corn lands which are cultivated by means of it. It is likely to fall, if ever the neighbouring lands are completely inclosed. The present high rent of inclosed land in Scotland seems owing to the scarcity of inclosure, and will probably last no longer than that scarcity. The advantage of inclosure is greater for pasture than for corn. It saves the labour of guarding the cattle, which feed better, too, when they are not liable to be disturbed by their keeper or his dog.
But where there is no local advantage of this kind, the rent and profit of corn, or whatever else is the common vegetable food of the people, must naturally regulate upon the land which is fit for producing it, the rent and profit of pasture.
The use of the artificial grasses, of turnips, carrots, cabbages, and the other expedients which have been fallen upon to make an equal quantity of land feed a greater number of cattle than when in natural grass, should somewhat reduce, it might be expected, the superiority which, in an improved country, the price of butcher’s meat naturally has over that of bread. It seems accordingly to have done so; and there is some reason for believing that, at least in the London market, the price of butcher’s meat, in proportion to the price of bread, is a good deal lower in the present times than it was in the beginning of the last century.
In the Appendix to the life of Prince Henry, Doctor Birch has given us an account of the prices of butcher’s meat as commonly paid by that prince. It is there said, that the four quarters of an ox, weighing six hundred pounds, usually cost him nine pounds ten shillings, or thereabouts; that is thirty-one shillings and eight-pence per hundred pounds weight. Prince Henry died on the 6th of November 1612, in the nineteenth year of his age.
In March 1764, there was a parliamentary inquiry into the causes of the high price of provisions at that time. It was then, among other proof to the same purpose, given in evidence by a Virginia merchant, that in March 1763, he had victualled his ships for twentyfour or twenty-five shillings the hundred weight of beef, which he considered as the ordinary price; whereas, in that dear year, he had paid twenty-seven shillings for the same weight and sort. This high price in 1764 is, however, four shillings and eight-pence cheaper than the ordinary price paid by Prince Henry; and it is the best beef only, it must be observed, which is fit to be salted for those distant voyages.
The price paid by Prince Henry amounts to 3d. ⅘ths per pound weight of the whole carcase, coarse and choice pieces taken together; and at that rate the choice pieces could not have been sold by retail for less than 4½d. or 5d. the pound.
In the parliamentary inquiry in 1764, the witnesses stated the price of the choice pieces of the best beef to be to the consumer 4d. and 4½d. the pound; and the coarse pieces in general to be from seven farthings to 2½d. and 2¾d.; and this, they said, was in general one halfpenny dearer than the same sort of pieces had usually been sold in the month of March. But even this high price is still a good deal cheaper than what we can well suppose the ordinary retail price to have been in the time of Prince Henry.
During the first twelve years of the last century, the average price of the best wheat at the Windsor market was £ 1:18:3½d. the quarter of nine Winchester bushels.
But in the twelve years preceding 1764 including that year, the average price of the same measure of the best wheat at the same market was £ 2:1:9½d.
In the first twelve years of the last century, therefore, wheat appears to have been a good deal cheaper, and butcher’s meat a good deal dearer, than in the twelve years preceding 1764, including that year.
In all great countries, the greater part of the cultivated lands are employed in producing either food for men or food for cattle. The rent and profit of these regulate the rent and profit of all other cultivated land. If any particular produce afforded less, the land would soon be turned into corn or pasture; and if any afforded more, some part of the lands in corn or pasture would soon be turned to that produce.
Those productions, indeed, which require either a greater original expense of improvement, or a greater annual expense of cultivation in order to fit the land for them, appear commonly to afford, the one a greater rent, the other a greater profit, than corn or pasture. This superiority, however, will seldom be found to amount to more than a reasonable interest or compensation for this superior expense.
In a hop garden, a fruit garden, a kitchen garden, both the rent of the landlord, and the profit of the farmer, are generally greater than in acorn or grass field. But to bring the ground into this condition requires more expense. Hence a greater rent becomes due to the landlord. It requires, too, a more attentive and skilful management. Hence a greater profit becomes due to the farmer. The crop, too, at least in the hop and fruit garden, is more precarious. Its price, therefore, besides compensating all occasional losses, must afford something like the profit of insurance. The circumstances of gardeners, generally mean, and always moderate, may satisfy us that their great ingenuity is not commonly over-recompensed. Their delightful art is practised by so many rich people for amusement, that little advantage is to be made by those who practise it for profit; because the persons who should naturally be their best customers, supply themselves with all their most precious productions.
The advantage which the landlord derives from such improvements, seems at no time to have been greater than what was sufficient to compensate the original expense of making them. In the ancient husbandry, after the vineyard, a well-watered kitchen garden seems to have been the part of the farm which was supposed to yield the most valuable produce. But Democritus, who wrote upon husbandry about two thousand years ago, and who was regarded by the ancients as one of the fathers of the art, thought they did not act wisely who inclosed a kitchen garden. The profit, he said, would not compensate the expense of a stone-wall: and bricks (he meant, I suppose, bricks baked in the sun) mouldered with the rain and the winter-storm, and required continual repairs. Columella, who reports this judgment of Democritus, does not controvert it, but proposes a very frugal method of inclosing with a hedge of brambles and briars, which he says he had found by experience to be both a lasting and an impenetrable fence; but which, it seems, was not commonly known in the time of Democritus. Palladius adopts the opinion of Columella, which had before been recommended by Varro. In the judgment of those ancient improvers, the produce of a kitchen garden had, it seems, been little more than sufficient to pay the extraordinary culture and the expense of watering; for in countries so near the sun, it was thought proper, in those times as in the present, to have the command of a stream of water, which could be conducted to every bed in the garden. Through the greater part of Europe, a kitchen garden is not at present supposed to deserve a better inclosure than that recommended by Columella. In Great Britain, and some other northern countries, the finer fruits cannot be brought to perfection but by the assistance of a wall. Their price, therefore, in such countries, must be sufficient to pay the expense of building and maintaining what they cannot be had without. The fruit-wall frequently surrounds the kitchen garden, which thus enjoys the benefit of an inclosure which its own produce could seldom pay for.
That the vineyard, when properly planted and brought to perfection, was the most valuable part of the farm, seems to have been an undoubted maxim in the ancient agriculture, as it is in the modern, through all the wine countries. But whether it was advantageous to plant a new vineyard, was a matter of dispute among the ancient Italian husbandmen, as we learn from Columella. He decides, like a true lover of all curious cultivation, in favour of the vineyard; and endeavours to shew, by a comparison of the profit and expense, that it was a most advantageous improvement. Such comparisons, however, between the profit and expense of new projects are commonly very fallacious; and in nothing more so than in agriculture. Had the gain actually made by such plantations been commonly as great as he imagined it might have been, there could have been no dispute about it. The same point is frequently at this day a matter of controversy in the wine countries. Their writers on agriculture, indeed, the lovers and promoters of high cultivation, seem generally disposed to decide with Columella in favour of the vineyard. In France, the anxiety of the proprietors of the old vineyards to prevent the planting of any new ones, seems to favour their opinion, and to indicate a consciousness in those who must have the experience, that this species of cultivation is at present in that country more profitable than any other. It seems, at the same time, however, to indicate another opinion, that this superior profit can last no longer than the laws which at present restrain the free cultivation of the vine. In 1731, they obtained an order of council, prohibiting both the planting of new vineyards, and the renewal of these old ones, of which the cultivation had been interrupted for two years, without a particular permission from the king, to be granted only in consequence of an information from the intendant of the province, certifying that he had examined the land, and that it was incapable of any other culture. The pretence of this order was the scarcity of corn and pasture, and the superabundance of wine. But had this superabundance been real, it would, without any order of council, have effectually prevented the plantation of new vineyards, by reducing the profits of this species of cultivation below their natural proportion to those of corn and pasture. With regard to the supposed scarcity of corn occasioned by the multiplication of vineyards, corn is nowhere in France more carefully cultivated than in the wine provinces, where the land is fit for producing it: as in Burgundy, Guienne, and the Upper Languedoc. The numerous hands employed in the one species of cultivation necessarily encourage the other, by affording a ready market for its produce. To diminish the number of those who are capable of paying it, is surely a most unpromising expedient for encouraging the cultivation of corn. It is like the policy which would promote agriculture, by discouraging manufactures.
The rent and profit of those productions, therefore, which require either a greater original expense of improvement in order to fit the land for them, or a greater annual expense of cultivation, though often much superior to those of corn and pasture, yet when they do no more than compensate such extraordinary expense, are in reality regulated by the rent and profit of those common crops.
It sometimes happens, indeed, that the quantity of land which can be fitted for some particular produce, is too small to supply the effectual demand. The whole produce can be disposed of to those who are willing to give somewhat more than what is sufficient to pay the whole rent, wages, and profit, necessary for raising and bringing it to market, according to their natural rates, or according to the rates at which they are paid in the greater part of other cultivated land. The surplus part of the price which remains after defraying the whole expense of improvement and cultivation, may commonly, in this case, and in this case only, bear no regular proportion to the like surplus in corn or pasture, but may exceed it in almost any degree; and the greater part of this excess naturally goes to the rent of the landlord.
The usual and natural proportion, for example, between the rent and profit of wine, and those of corn and pasture, must be understood to take place only with regard to those vineyards which produce nothing but good common wine, such as can be raised almost anywhere, upon any light, gravelly, or sandy soil, and which has nothing to recommend it but its strength and wholesomeness. It is with such vineyards only, that the common land of the country can be brought into competition; for with those of a peculiar quality it is evident that it cannot.
The vine is more affected by the difference of soils than any other fruit-tree. From some it derives a flavour which no culture or management can equal, it is supposed, upon any other. This flavour, real or imaginary, is sometimes peculiar to the produce of a few vineyards; sometimes it extends through the greater part of a small district, and sometimes through a considerable part of a large province. The whole quantity of such wines that is brought to market falls short of the effectual demand, or the demand of those who would be willing to pay the whole rent, profit, and wages, necessary for preparing and bringing them thither, according to the ordinary rate, or according to the rate at which they are paid in common vineyards. The whole quantity, therefore, can be disposed of to those who are willing to pay more, which necessarily raises their price above that of common wine. The difference is greater or less, according as the fashionableness and scarcity of the wine render the competition of the buyers more or less eager. Whatever it be, the greater part of it goes to the rent of the landlord. For though such vineyards are in general more carefully cultivated than most others, the high price of the wine seems to be, not so much the effect, as the cause of this careful cultivation. In so valuable a produce, the loss occasioned by negligence is so great, as to force even the most careless to attention. A small part of this high price, therefore, is sufficient to pay the wages of the extraordinary labour bestowed upon their cultivation, and the profits of the extraordinary stock which puts that labour into motion.
The sugar colonies possessed by the European nations in the West Indies may be compared to those precious vineyards. Their whole produce falls short of the effectual demand of Europe, and can be disposed of to those who are willing to give more than what is sufficient to pay the whole rent, profit, and wages, necessary for preparing and bringing it to market, according to the rate at which they are commonly paid by any other produce. In Cochin China, the finest white sugar generally sells for three piastres the quintal, about thirteen shillings and sixpence of our money, as we are told by Mr Poivre {Voyages d’un Philosophe.}, a very careful observer of the agriculture of that country. What is there called the quintal, weighs from a hundred and fifty to two hundred Paris pounds, or a hundred and seventy-five Paris pounds at a medium, which reduces the price of the hundred weight English to about eight shillings sterling; not a fourth part of what is commonly paid for the brown or muscovada sugars imported from our colonies, and not a sixth part of what is paid for the finest white sugar. The greater part of the cultivated lands in Cochin China are employed in producing corn and rice, the food of the great body of the people. The respective prices of corn, rice, and sugar, are there probably in the natural proportion, or in that which naturally takes place in the different crops of the greater part of cultivated land, and which recompenses the landlord and farmer, as nearly as can be computed, according to what is usually the original expense of improvement, and the annual expense of cultivation. But in our sugar colonies, the price of sugar bears no such proportion to that of the produce of a rice or corn field either in Europe or America. It is commonly said that a sugar planter expects that the rum and the molasses should defray the whole expense of his cultivation, and that his sugar should be all clear profit. If this be true, for I pretend not to affirm it, it is as if a corn farmer expected to defray the expense of his cultivation with the chaff and the straw, and that the grain should be all clear profit. We see frequently societies of merchants in London, and other trading towns, purchase waste lands in our sugar colonies, which they expect to improve and cultivate with profit, by means of factors and agents, notwithstanding the great distance and the uncertain returns, from the defective administration of justice in those countries. Nobody will attempt to improve and cultivate in the same manner the most fertile lands of Scotland, Ireland, or the corn provinces of North America, though, from the more exact administration of justice in these countries, more regular returns might be expected.
English
In an open country, moreover, where corn is the principal crop, a well-enclosed piece of grassland will often command a higher rent than any neighboring cornfield. It is useful for keeping the cattle employed in cultivating the corn; in this case, its high rent is paid not so much out of the value of its own produce as out of that of the corn lands cultivated with its help. That rent will probably fall if the neighboring lands are ever completely enclosed. The high rent of enclosed land in Scotland at present seems to arise from the scarcity of enclosures, and will probably last only as long as that scarcity. Enclosure is more advantageous for pasture than for corn. It saves the labor of watching the cattle, which also feed better when they need not suffer disturbance from their keeper or his dog.
But where no such local advantage exists, the rent and profit of corn, or of whatever else is the people's usual vegetable food, must naturally regulate the rent and profit of pasture on land suited to producing that food.
The use of cultivated grasses, turnips, carrots, cabbages, and other means devised to enable a given area of land to feed more cattle than it would under natural grass might be expected to diminish somewhat the advantage that the price of butcher's meat naturally has over the price of bread in an improved country. It appears to have done so. There is some reason to believe that, at least in the London market, meat costs considerably less in relation to bread today than it did at the beginning of the last century.
In the Appendix to the life of Prince Henry, Doctor Birch gives an account of the prices that prince ordinarily paid for butcher's meat. We are told that the four quarters of an ox, weighing six hundred pounds, usually cost him nine pounds ten shillings, or thereabouts: thirty-one shillings and eight-pence per hundred pounds weight. Prince Henry died on the 6th of November 1612, in the nineteenth year of his age.
In March 1764, Parliament investigated the causes of the high price of provisions at the time. Among the evidence presented, a Virginia merchant testified that in March 1763 he had provisioned his ships with beef at twentyfour or twenty-five shillings the hundred weight, which he regarded as the ordinary price; but in the expensive year of 1764 he had paid twenty-seven shillings for the same weight and kind. Yet even this high price in 1764 is four shillings and eight-pence below the ordinary price paid by Prince Henry; and we must note that only the best beef is suitable for salting for such long voyages.
The price Prince Henry paid comes to 3d. ⅘ths per pound weight for the entire carcass, coarse and choice cuts together; at that rate the choice cuts could not have been retailed for less than 4½d. or 5d. a pound.
In the parliamentary inquiry of 1764, witnesses put the consumer's price of the choice cuts of the best beef at 4d. and 4½d. a pound, and that of the coarse cuts generally at anything from seven farthings to 2½d. and 2¾d. They said these prices were generally one halfpenny higher than those at which cuts of the same kinds had usually sold in March. But even these high prices remain considerably lower than we may reasonably suppose ordinary retail prices to have been in Prince Henry's day.
During the first twelve years of the last century, the average price of the best wheat at the Windsor market was £ 1:18:3½d. for a quarter of nine Winchester bushels.
But in the twelve years preceding 1764, including that year, the average price for the same measure of the best wheat at the same market was £ 2:1:9½d.
Thus, in the first twelve years of the last century, wheat appears to have been considerably cheaper, and butcher's meat considerably dearer, than in the twelve years preceding 1764, including that year.
In every large country, most cultivated land is employed to produce food either for people or for cattle. The rent and profit from these uses regulate the rent and profit from all other cultivated land. If a particular crop yielded less, the land would soon be turned to corn or pasture; if it yielded more, some land under corn or pasture would soon be turned to that crop.
Crops that require a greater initial expense to improve the land for them, or a greater yearly expense to cultivate it, do commonly appear to yield, in the first case, a higher rent, and in the second, a higher profit, than corn or pasture. Yet this advantage seldom amounts to more than reasonable interest on, or compensation for, the additional expense.
In a hop garden, an orchard, or a kitchen garden, both the landlord's rent and the farmer's profit are generally higher than in a cornfield or a grass field. But it costs more to bring the ground into this condition, so a higher rent is due to the landlord. Its management, too, calls for more care and skill, so a higher profit is due to the farmer. At least in the hop garden and the orchard, the crop is also less certain. Its price must therefore cover occasional losses as well as provide something like an insurance profit. Gardeners' circumstances—generally poor and always modest—may persuade us that their considerable ingenuity is not ordinarily rewarded too lavishly. So many wealthy people practice their delightful art for pleasure that those who practice it for profit can gain little from it: the very people who should be their best customers supply themselves with all its most precious products.
The landlord's advantage from such improvements seems never to have exceeded what was needed to repay the original cost of making them. In ancient agriculture, a well-watered kitchen garden seems to have been regarded, after the vineyard, as the farm's most valuable ground. But Democritus, who wrote on agriculture about two thousand years ago and whom the ancients regarded as one of the founders of the art, thought it unwise to enclose a kitchen garden. Its profits, he said, would not cover the expense of a stone wall; bricks—sun-dried bricks, I suppose—crumbled under rain and winter storms and needed continual repair. Columella, who records this judgment of Democritus, does not dispute it. Instead he proposes the economical expedient of a hedge of brambles and briers, which experience had shown him to be both lasting and impenetrable, but which was evidently not widely known in Democritus's time. Palladius accepts Columella's view, which Varro had recommended before him. In the judgment of these ancient agricultural improvers, the produce of a kitchen garden was apparently scarcely enough to cover the extra cultivation and the cost of watering it. In countries so near the sun, people thought it necessary then, as they do now, to have access to a stream whose water could be led to every garden bed. Throughout most of Europe, a kitchen garden is not now thought worth enclosing more securely than Columella recommended. In Great Britain and certain other northern countries, however, the finer fruits cannot be brought to perfection without a wall. Their price there must consequently cover the expense of building and maintaining something indispensable to their production. The fruit wall often surrounds the kitchen garden, which thus benefits from an enclosure that its own produce could seldom pay for.
That a vineyard, properly planted and brought to maturity, was the farm's most valuable ground seems to have been an unquestioned maxim of ancient agriculture, as it is of modern agriculture throughout the wine countries. Whether planting a new vineyard paid, however, was disputed among the ancient Italian farmers, as Columella tells us. Like a true devotee of elaborate cultivation, he comes down on the vineyard's side and attempts to show, by comparing profit with expense, that it is a highly advantageous improvement. Such comparisons of the costs and profits of new ventures are generally deceptive, and nowhere more so than in agriculture. If these plantations had commonly brought in as much as he imagined they might, there would have been no dispute. The question is still frequently debated in the wine countries today. Their agricultural writers, devoted as they are to promoting intensive cultivation, generally seem inclined to side with Columella in favor of the vineyard. In France, the anxiety of owners of established vineyards to prevent new ones from being planted seems to support that opinion, suggesting that people who have practical experience know this cultivation to be more profitable there at present than any other. At the same time, however, it suggests a further belief: that the extra profit will last only as long as the laws restricting the free cultivation of the vine. In 1731, they obtained an order of council forbidding both the planting of new vineyards and the renewal of old vineyards left uncultivated for two years, unless the king gave specific permission, granted only after the provincial intendant reported that he had inspected the land and found it unfit for any other cultivation. The stated reason for this order was a shortage of corn and pasture and an excess of wine. But if wine really had been so abundant, it would have prevented new vineyards without any order of council: the profit of growing vines would have fallen below its natural proportion to the profit of corn and pasture. As for the alleged shortage of corn brought about by multiplying vineyards, nowhere in France is corn cultivated more carefully than in wine-producing provinces where the land can grow it, such as Burgundy, Guienne, and the Upper Languedoc. The many workers employed in growing one crop necessarily encourage the other by providing a ready market for it. Reducing the number of people able to buy corn is surely an unpromising way to encourage its cultivation. It resembles a policy of encouraging agriculture by discouraging manufactures.
The rent and profit of crops that require either greater initial expense to prepare the land or greater yearly expense to cultivate it, therefore, may greatly exceed the rent and profit of corn and pasture; but if they do no more than repay those exceptional expenses, they are in fact regulated by the rent and profit of those ordinary crops.
It does sometimes happen, however, that too little land is suitable for a particular crop to meet the effectual demand. All of its produce can then be sold to people willing to pay somewhat more than enough to cover the rent, wages, and profit required to grow it and bring it to market at their natural rates, or at the rates paid on most other cultivated land. In this case, and ordinarily only in this case, the portion of the price remaining after all expenses of improvement and cultivation have been met need bear no regular relation to the corresponding surplus from corn or pasture: it can exceed that surplus by almost any amount. Most of the excess naturally goes to the landlord as rent.
The usual and natural relationship between the rent and profit of wine and those of corn and pasture, for example, applies only to vineyards producing ordinary good wine, which can be grown almost anywhere on light, gravelly, or sandy soil and has nothing to recommend it beyond its strength and wholesomeness. Only with vineyards of this kind can the country's ordinary land compete; it plainly cannot compete with vineyards of exceptional quality.
The vine is more sensitive to differences in soil than any other fruit tree. From some soils it draws a flavor that no amount of cultivation or management can, it is thought, reproduce in another. Whether real or imagined, this flavor may belong only to a few vineyards, may extend across most of a small district, or may be found in a considerable part of a large province. The entire quantity of these wines brought to market falls short of the effectual demand: the demand from people willing to pay the full rent, profit, and wages needed to prepare and bring them there at ordinary rates, or the rates paid in ordinary vineyards. The entire supply can therefore be sold to those willing to pay more, necessarily raising its price above that of ordinary wine. The difference rises or falls with the eagerness of buyers competing for a fashionable and scarce wine. Whatever its size, most of this difference goes to the landlord as rent. Though such vineyards are generally cultivated more carefully than most, the wine's high price seems less an effect of this care than its cause. Negligence threatens such valuable produce with losses so great that even the most careless are driven to attention. A small part of the high price is thus enough to cover the wages of the additional labor devoted to cultivation and the profits on the additional stock employed to set that labor in motion.
The sugar colonies held by the European nations in the West Indies may be compared to those prized vineyards. Their total produce falls short of Europe's effectual demand and can be sold to buyers willing to pay more than enough to cover the full rent, profit, and wages needed to prepare it and bring it to market at the rates ordinarily paid for other produce. In Cochin China, according to Mr Poivre [Voyages d’un Philosophe.], a very careful observer of its agriculture, the finest white sugar generally sells for three piastres the quintal, about thirteen shillings and sixpence in our money. The unit called a quintal there weighs from a hundred and fifty to two hundred Paris pounds, or a hundred and seventy-five Paris pounds on average. This puts the price per English hundred weight at about eight shillings sterling: not a fourth of the price commonly paid for the brown or muscovada sugar imported from our colonies, nor a sixth of that paid for the finest white sugar. Most cultivated land in Cochin China grows corn and rice, the food of the great majority of its people. The relative prices of corn, rice, and sugar there probably stand in their natural proportion: the relation that naturally prevails among the crops grown on most cultivated land and that rewards landlord and farmer, as nearly as one can calculate, in accordance with the usual initial cost of improvement and yearly cost of cultivation. In our sugar colonies, however, the price of sugar stands in no such relation to that of the crop of a rice or corn field in either Europe or America. It is often said that a sugar planter expects his rum and molasses to pay the whole cost of cultivation, leaving his sugar as pure profit. If this is true—I do not claim to verify it—it is as though a corn farmer expected his chaff and straw to cover his cultivation costs and his grain to be pure profit. We often see associations of merchants in London and other trading towns purchase uncultivated land in our sugar colonies, expecting to improve and cultivate it at a profit through factors and agents, despite the great distance and the uncertainty of returns caused by the defective administration of justice there. No one would try to improve and cultivate even the most fertile land in Scotland, Ireland, or the corn-growing provinces of North America in the same way, though the more reliable administration of justice in those places should promise more regular returns.
Book I, Chapter XI, 3
18th-century English
In Virginia and Maryland, the cultivation of tobacco is preferred, as most profitable, to that of corn. Tobacco might be cultivated with advantage through the greater part of Europe; but, in almost every part of Europe, it has become a principal subject of taxation; and to collect a tax from every different farm in the country where this plant might happen to be cultivated, would be more difficult, it has been supposed, than to levy one upon its importation at the custom-house. The cultivation of tobacco has, upon this account, been most absurdly prohibited through the greater part of Europe, which necessarily gives a sort of monopoly to the countries where it is allowed; and as Virginia and Maryland produce the greatest quantity of it, they share largely, though with some competitors, in the advantage of this monopoly. The cultivation of tobacco, however, seems not to be so advantageous as that of sugar. I have never even heard of any tobacco plantation that was improved and cultivated by the capital of merchants who resided in Great Britain; and our tobacco colonies send us home no such wealthy planters as we see frequently arrive from our sugar islands. Though, from the preference given in those colonies to the cultivation of tobacco above that of corn, it would appear that the effectual demand of Europe for tobacco is not completely supplied, it probably is more nearly so than that for sugar; and though the present price of tobacco is probably more than sufficient to pay the whole rent, wages, and profit, necessary for preparing and bringing it to market, according to the rate at which they are commonly paid in corn land, it must not be so much more as the present price of sugar. Our tobacco planters, accordingly, have shewn the same fear of the superabundance of tobacco, which the proprietors of the old vineyards in France have of the superabundance of wine. By act of assembly, they have restrained its cultivation to six thousand plants, supposed to yield a thousand weight of tobacco, for every negro between sixteen and sixty years of age. Such a negro, over and above this quantity of tobacco, can manage, they reckon, four acres of Indian corn. To prevent the market from being overstocked, too, they have sometimes, in plentiful years, we are told by Dr Douglas {Douglas’s Summary, vol. ii. p. 379, 373.} (I suspect he has been ill informed), burnt a certain quantity of tobacco for every negro, in the same manner as the Dutch are said to do of spices. If such violent methods are necessary to keep up the present price of tobacco, the superior advantage of its culture over that of corn, if it still has any, will not probably be of long continuance.
It is in this manner that the rent of the cultivated land, of which the produce is human food, regulates the rent of the greater part of other cultivated land. No particular produce can long afford less, because the land would immediately be turned to another use; and if any particular produce commonly affords more, it is because the quantity of land which can be fitted for it is too small to supply the effectual demand.
In Europe, corn is the principal produce of land, which serves immediately for human food. Except in particular situations, therefore, the rent of corn land regulates in Europe that of all other cultivated land. Britain need envy neither the vineyards of France, nor the olive plantations of Italy. Except in particular situations, the value of these is regulated by that of corn, in which the fertility of Britain is not much inferior to that of either of those two countries.
If, in any country, the common and favourite vegetable food of the people should be drawn from a plant of which the most common land, with the same, or nearly the same culture, produced a much greater quantity than the most fertile does of corn; the rent of the landlord, or the surplus quantity of food which would remain to him, after paying the labour, and replacing the stock of the farmer, together with its ordinary profits, would necessarily be much greater. Whatever was the rate at which labour was commonly maintained in that country, this greater surplus could always maintain a greater quantity of it, and, consequently, enable the landlord to purchase or command a greater quantity of it. The real value of his rent, his real power and authority, his command of the necessaries and conveniencies of life with which the labour of other people could supply him, would necessarily be much greater.
A rice field produces a much greater quantity of food than the most fertile corn field. Two crops in the year, from thirty to sixty bushels each, are said to be the ordinary produce of an acre. Though its cultivation, therefore, requires more labour, a much greater surplus remains after maintaining all that labour. In those rice countries, therefore, where rice is the common and favourite vegetable food of the people, and where the cultivators are chiefly maintained with it, a greater share of this greater surplus should belong to the landlord than in corn countries. In Carolina, where the planters, as in other British colonies, are generally both farmers and landlords, and where rent, consequently, is confounded with profit, the cultivation of rice is found to be more profitable than that of corn, though their fields produce only one crop in the year, and though, from the prevalence of the customs of Europe, rice is not there the common and favourite vegetable food of the people.
A good rice field is a bog at all seasons, and at one season a bog covered with water. It is unfit either for corn, or pasture, or vineyard, or, indeed, for any other vegetable produce that is very useful to men; and the lands which are fit for those purposes are not fit for rice. Even in the rice countries, therefore, the rent of rice lands cannot regulate the rent of the other cultivated land which can never be turned to that produce.
The food produced by a field of potatoes is not inferior in quantity to that produced by a field of rice, and much superior to what is produced by a field of wheat. Twelve thousand weight of potatoes from an acre of land is not a greater produce than two thousand weight of wheat. The food or solid nourishment, indeed, which can be drawn from each of those two plants, is not altogether in proportion to their weight, on account of the watery nature of potatoes. Allowing, however, half the weight of this root to go to water, a very large allowance, such an acre of potatoes will still produce six thousand weight of solid nourishment, three times the quantity produced by the acre of wheat. An acre of potatoes is cultivated with less expense than an acre of wheat; the fallow, which generally precedes the sowing of wheat, more than compensating the hoeing and other extraordinary culture which is always given to potatoes. Should this root ever become in any part of Europe, like rice in some rice countries, the common and favourite vegetable food of the people, so as to occupy the same proportion of the lands in tillage, which wheat and other sorts of grain for human food do at present, the same quantity of cultivated land would maintain a much greater number of people; and the labourers being generally fed with potatoes, a greater surplus would remain after replacing all the stock, and maintaining all the labour employed in cultivation. A greater share of this surplus, too, would belong to the landlord. Population would increase, and rents would rise much beyond what they are at present.
The land which is fit for potatoes, is fit for almost every other useful vegetable. If they occupied the same proportion of cultivated land which corn does at present, they would regulate, in the same manner, the rent of the greater part of other cultivated land.
In some parts of Lancashire, it is pretended, I have been told, that bread of oatmeal is a heartier food for labouring people than wheaten bread, and I have frequently heard the same doctrine held in Scotland. I am, however, somewhat doubtful of the truth of it. The common people in Scotland, who are fed with oatmeal, are in general neither so strong nor so handsome as the same rank of people in England, who are fed with wheaten bread. They neither work so well, nor look so well; and as there is not the same difference between the people of fashion in the two countries, experience would seem to shew, that the food of the common people in Scotland is not so suitable to the human constitution as that of their neighbours of the same rank in England. But it seems to be otherwise with potatoes. The chairmen, porters, and coal-heavers in London, and those unfortunate women who live by prostitution, the strongest men and the most beautiful women perhaps in the British dominions, are said to be, the greater part of them, from the lowest rank of people in Ireland, who are generally fed with this root. No food can afford a more decisive proof of its nourishing quality, or of its being peculiarly suitable to the health of the human constitution.
It is difficult to preserve potatoes through the year, and impossible to store them like corn, for two or three years together. The fear of not being able to sell them before they rot, discourages their cultivation, and is, perhaps, the chief obstacle to their ever becoming in any great country, like bread, the principal vegetable food of all the different ranks of the people.
PART II.—Of the Produce of Land, which sometimes does, and sometimes does not, afford Rent.
Human food seems to be the only produce of land, which always and necessarily affords some rent to the landlord. Other sorts of produce sometimes may, and sometimes may not, according to different circumstances.
After food, clothing and lodging are the two great wants of mankind.
Land, in its original rude state, can afford the materials of clothing and lodging to a much greater number of people than it can feed. In its improved state, it can sometimes feed a greater number of people than it can supply with those materials; at least in the way in which they require them, and are willing to pay for them. In the one state, therefore, there is always a superabundance of these materials, which are frequently, upon that account, of little or no value. In the other, there is often a scarcity, which necessarily augments their value. In the one state, a great part of them is thrown away as useless and the price of what is used is considered as equal only to the labour and expense of fitting it for use, and can, therefore, afford no rent to the landlord. In the other, they are all made use of, and there is frequently a demand for more than can be had. Somebody is always willing to give more for every part of them, than what is sufficient to pay the expense of bringing them to market. Their price, therefore, can always afford some rent to the landlord.
The skins of the larger animals were the original materials of clothing. Among nations of hunters and shepherds, therefore, whose food consists chiefly in the flesh of those animals, everyman, by providing himself with food, provides himself with the materials of more clothing than he can wear. If there was no foreign commerce, the greater part of them would be thrown away as things of no value. This was probably the case among the hunting nations of North America, before their country was discovered by the Europeans, with whom they now exchange their surplus peltry, for blankets, fire-arms, and brandy, which gives it some value. In the present commercial state of the known world, the most barbarous nations, I believe, among whom land property is established, have some foreign commerce of this kind, and find among their wealthier neighbours such a demand for all the materials of clothing, which their land produces, and which can neither be wrought up nor consumed at home, as raises their price above what it costs to send them to those wealthier neighbours. It affords, therefore, some rent to the landlord. When the greater part of the Highland cattle were consumed on their own hills, the exportation of their hides made the most considerable article of the commerce of that country, and what they were exchanged for afforded some addition to the rent of the Highland estates. The wool of England, which in old times, could neither be consumed nor wrought up at home, found a market in the then wealthier and more industrious country of Flanders, and its price afforded something to the rent of the land which produced it. In countries not better cultivated than England was then, or than the Highlands of Scotland are now, and which had no foreign commerce, the materials of clothing would evidently be so superabundant, that a great part of them would be thrown away as useless, and no part could afford any rent to the landlord.
The materials of lodging cannot always be transported to so great a distance as those of clothing, and do not so readily become an object of foreign commerce. When they are superabundant in the country which produces them, it frequently happens, even in the present commercial state of the world, that they are of no value to the landlord. A good stone quarry in the neighbourhood of London would afford a considerable rent. In many parts of Scotland and Wales it affords none. Barren timber for building is of great value in a populous and well-cultivated country, and the land which produces it affords a considerable rent. But in many parts of North America, the landlord would be much obliged to any body who would carry away the greater part of his large trees. In some parts of the Highlands of Scotland, the bark is the only part of the wood which, for want of roads and water-carriage, can be sent to market; the timber is left to rot upon the ground. When the materials of lodging are so superabundant, the part made use of is worth only the labour and expense of fitting it for that use. It affords no rent to the landlord, who generally grants the use of it to whoever takes the trouble of asking it. The demand of wealthier nations, however, sometimes enables him to get a rent for it. The paving of the streets of London has enabled the owners of some barren rocks on the coast of Scotland to draw a rent from what never afforded any before. The woods of Norway, and of the coasts of the Baltic, find a market in many parts of Great Britain, which they could not find at home, and thereby afford some rent to their proprietors.
Countries are populous, not in proportion to the number of people whom their produce can clothe and lodge, but in proportion to that of those whom it can feed. When food is provided, it is easy to find the necessary clothing and lodging. But though these are at hand, it may often be difficult to find food. In some parts of the British dominions, what is called a house may be built by one day’s labour of one man. The simplest species of clothing, the skins of animals, require somewhat more labour to dress and prepare them for use. They do not, however, require a great deal. Among savage or barbarous nations, a hundredth, or little more than a hundredth part of the labour of the whole year, will be sufficient to provide them with such clothing and lodging as satisfy the greater part of the people. All the other ninety-nine parts are frequently no more than enough to provide them with food.
English
In Virginia and Maryland, tobacco is cultivated in preference to corn because it is more profitable. Tobacco could be grown profitably across most of Europe. But in almost every part of Europe it has become an important object of taxation, and it has been thought harder to collect a tax from every farm where it might be grown than to levy a tax on its importation at the custom-house. For this reason, growing tobacco has been prohibited, most absurdly, throughout most of Europe. This inevitably gives something of a monopoly to the countries where it is allowed, and Virginia and Maryland, as its leading producers, enjoy a large share of that monopoly's advantage, though they have some competitors. Growing tobacco, however, does not appear to be as profitable as growing sugar. I have never even heard of a tobacco plantation improved and cultivated with the capital of merchants living in Great Britain; nor do our tobacco colonies send home the wealthy planters whom we so often see arrive from our sugar islands. Although the preference for tobacco over corn in those colonies suggests that Europe's effectual demand for tobacco is not fully met, it probably comes closer to being met than its demand for sugar. And although tobacco's present price probably more than covers all the rent, wages, and profit needed to prepare it and bring it to market at the rates ordinarily paid on corn land, the surplus cannot be as great as it is for sugar at its present price. Accordingly, our tobacco planters have shown the same fear of a glut of tobacco as the owners of established French vineyards have shown of a glut of wine. By an act of assembly, they have limited cultivation to six thousand plants, thought to yield a thousand weight of tobacco, for every negro between sixteen and sixty years of age. They calculate that such a negro can also tend four acres of Indian corn in addition to that amount of tobacco. To keep the market from being overstocked, they have sometimes, in years of abundance, burned a certain quantity of tobacco for every negro, according to Dr Douglas [Douglas’s Summary, vol. ii. p. 379, 373.]—though I suspect he has been misinformed—just as the Dutch are said to do with spices. If methods so extreme are necessary to maintain tobacco's present price, any advantage its cultivation still has over corn is unlikely to endure long.
In this way, the rent of cultivated land producing human food regulates the rent of most other cultivated land. No particular crop can yield less for long, since the land would immediately be turned to another use. If a particular crop regularly yields more, it is because too little land can be adapted to grow it to meet the effectual demand.
In Europe, corn is the principal product of land used directly as human food. Except in particular circumstances, then, the rent of corn land regulates that of all other cultivated land in Europe. Britain need envy neither the vineyards of France nor the olive groves of Italy. Except in particular circumstances, their value is regulated by that of corn, in which Britain's fertility is not much below that of either country.
If in some country the people's common and favorite vegetable food came from a plant that, on the most ordinary land and with the same or nearly the same cultivation, yielded far more than corn does even on the most fertile land, the landlord's rent would necessarily be much greater. So would the surplus food left to him after paying for labor and replacing the farmer's stock with its ordinary profits. Whatever the usual cost of maintaining labor in that country, this larger surplus could always support more of it, and thus enable the landlord to buy or command more of it. The real value of his rent—his actual power and authority, his command over the necessities and comforts that other people's labor could furnish him—would necessarily be much greater.
A rice field produces far more food than the most fertile cornfield. Two yearly crops of thirty to sixty bushels apiece are said to be the ordinary yield of an acre. Although rice requires more labor to cultivate, a much larger surplus remains after all that labor has been maintained. Thus in countries where rice is the people's common and favorite vegetable food, and where the cultivators principally live on it, the landlord should receive a larger share of this larger surplus than landlords do in corn-growing countries. In Carolina, the planters, as in other British colonies, are generally farmers and landlords at once, so rent is merged with profit. There rice cultivation is found more profitable than corn cultivation, although its fields yield only one crop a year and, because European habits prevail, rice is not the people's common and favorite vegetable food.
A good rice field is a bog throughout the year and, for part of the year, a bog under water. It is fit neither for corn, pasture, nor vines, nor indeed for any other vegetable crop of much use to people; and land suited to those purposes is not suited to rice. Even in rice-growing countries, therefore, the rent of rice land cannot regulate the rent of other cultivated land, which can never be turned to rice.
A potato field produces at least as much food as a rice field and far more than a wheat field. Twelve thousand weight of potatoes from an acre is no more exceptional a yield than two thousand weight of wheat. The amount of food, or solid nourishment, drawn from the two plants is not quite proportional to their weight, because potatoes contain so much water. But even if we allow half the weight of this root for water—a very generous allowance—an acre of potatoes still yields six thousand weight of solid nourishment, three times what an acre of wheat yields. An acre of potatoes costs less to cultivate than an acre of wheat: the fallow that usually comes before wheat is sown more than offsets the hoeing and other special cultivation potatoes invariably require. If this root should ever become, in any part of Europe, the people's common and favorite vegetable food, as rice is in some rice-growing countries, and occupy the same share of cultivated land that wheat and other grains grown for human food occupy now, the same amount of cultivated land would feed many more people. With laborers ordinarily fed on potatoes, more would be left over after replacing all the stock and maintaining everyone employed in cultivation. More of that surplus would also go to the landlord. Population would grow, and rents would rise far above their present level.
Land fit for potatoes is fit for almost every other useful vegetable crop. If potatoes occupied the same share of cultivated land that corn does now, they would likewise regulate the rent of most other cultivated land.
In parts of Lancashire, I have been told, people claim that oatmeal bread is more sustaining for laborers than wheat bread, and I have often heard the same claim in Scotland. I am somewhat doubtful of it. Ordinary people in Scotland, fed on oatmeal, are generally neither as strong nor as good-looking as people of the same rank in England, fed on wheat bread. They neither work as well nor look as well. Since no corresponding difference appears among the fashionable classes of the two countries, experience would seem to indicate that the ordinary Scottish diet is less suited to the human constitution than that of their English counterparts. With potatoes, however, the case appears different. London's chairmen, porters, and coal-heavers, and those unfortunate women who live by prostitution—perhaps the strongest men and most beautiful women in the British dominions—are said for the most part to come from the lowest rank of Irish society, whose people generally live on this root. No food could give more decisive proof of its nourishing power, or of its special fitness for human health.
Potatoes are hard to preserve throughout the year and cannot, like corn, be stored for two or three years at a time. Fear that they may rot before they can be sold discourages their cultivation and is perhaps the chief obstacle to their ever becoming, like bread, the principal vegetable food of every class in a large country.
PART II.—Of the Produce of Land That Sometimes Affords Rent and Sometimes Does Not.
Human food seems to be the only product of land that always and necessarily brings the landlord some rent. Other products may or may not do so, according to circumstances.
After food, clothing and shelter are humanity's two great needs.
In its original, uncultivated condition, land can supply materials for clothing and shelter to many more people than it can feed. Once improved, it can sometimes feed more people than it can furnish with those materials—at least in the forms they want and are willing to pay for. In the first condition, therefore, these materials are always abundant to excess and often have little value or none at all. In the second, they are often scarce, which necessarily increases their value. In the first, much is discarded as useless, and the price of whatever is used is reckoned as no more than the labor and expense of preparing it for use; it can therefore pay the landlord no rent. In the second, everything is used, and demand often exceeds the available supply. Someone will always pay for each part more than enough to cover the cost of bringing it to market. Its price can therefore always provide some rent to the landlord.
The skins of large animals were the first materials of clothing. Among nations of hunters and shepherds, therefore, whose food consists mainly of the flesh of those animals, everyone who provides himself with food also provides himself with materials for more clothing than he can wear. Without foreign trade, most of these skins would be thrown away as worthless. This was probably true among the hunting peoples of North America before Europeans reached their country; now they exchange their surplus pelts for blankets, firearms, and brandy, giving those pelts some value. In the present commercial condition of the known world, even the most barbarous nations among whom ownership of land has been established, I believe, engage in some such foreign trade. They find among their wealthier neighbors a demand for all the clothing materials their land produces that cannot be worked up or consumed at home. That demand raises the price above the cost of sending the materials to those neighbors and thereby provides some rent to the landlord. When most Highland cattle were eaten on their own hills, exporting their hides was the most important branch of that country's trade, and what was received for them added something to the rent of Highland estates. England's wool, which long ago could neither be used nor worked up at home, found a market in the wealthier and more industrious Flanders of that time, and its price added something to the rent of the land that produced it. In countries no better cultivated than England was then, or than the Scottish Highlands are now, but without foreign trade, clothing materials would plainly be so abundant that much of them would be discarded as useless and none would bring the landlord any rent.
Materials for building shelter cannot always be carried as far as clothing materials and do not become objects of foreign trade as readily. When they abound in the country that produces them, they often have no value for the landlord, even in today's commercial world. A good stone quarry near London would yield substantial rent; in many parts of Scotland and Wales, it yields none. Timber for building is very valuable in a populous, well-cultivated country, and the land growing it yields substantial rent. In many parts of North America, however, a landlord would be grateful to anyone willing to take away most of his large trees. In parts of the Scottish Highlands, the bark is the only part of a tree that can be taken to market, for want of roads and water transport; the timber is left to rot on the ground. Where materials for shelter abound to this degree, the part actually used is worth no more than the labor and expense of preparing it for use. It yields no rent to the landlord, who generally lets anyone have it who takes the trouble to ask. Demand from wealthier nations, however, sometimes enables him to charge rent for it. Paving the streets of London has enabled the owners of barren rocks on Scotland's coast to draw rent from property that had never yielded any before. The woods of Norway and the Baltic coasts find markets in many parts of Great Britain that they cannot find at home, and thus yield their owners some rent.
Countries are populous not in proportion to the number of people their produce can clothe and shelter, but in proportion to the number it can feed. Once food is supplied, the necessary clothing and shelter are easy to find. Yet food may often be hard to find even when clothing and shelter are at hand. In some parts of the British dominions, one man can build what is called a house with a single day's labor. The simplest clothing, animal skins, takes somewhat more labor to dress and prepare for use, though not very much. Among savage or barbarous nations, a hundredth, or little more than a hundredth, of the whole year's labor will suffice to supply clothing and shelter that satisfy most people. All the other ninety-nine parts are often scarcely enough to supply them with food.
Book I, Chapter XI, 4
18th-century English
But when, by the improvement and cultivation of land, the labour of one family can provide food for two, the labour of half the society becomes sufficient to provide food for the whole. The other half, therefore, or at least the greater part of them, can be employed in providing other things, or in satisfying the other wants and fancies of mankind. Clothing and lodging, household furniture, and what is called equipage, are the principal objects of the greater part of those wants and fancies. The rich man consumes no more food than his poor neighbour. In quality it may be very different, and to select and prepare it may require more labour and art; but in quantity it is very nearly the same. But compare the spacious palace and great wardrobe of the one, with the hovel and the few rags of the other, and you will be sensible that the difference between their clothing, lodging, and household furniture, is almost as great in quantity as it is in quality. The desire of food is limited in every man by the narrow capacity of the human stomach; but the desire of the conveniencies and ornaments of building, dress, equipage, and household furniture, seems to have no limit or certain boundary. Those, therefore, who have the command of more food than they themselves can consume, are always willing to exchange the surplus, or, what is the same thing, the price of it, for gratifications of this other kind. What is over and above satisfying the limited desire, is given for the amusement of those desires which cannot be satisfied, but seem to be altogether endless. The poor, in order to obtain food, exert themselves to gratify those fancies of the rich; and to obtain it more certainly, they vie with one another in the cheapness and perfection of their work. The number of workmen increases with the increasing quantity of food, or with the growing improvement and cultivation of the lands; and as the nature of their business admits of the utmost subdivisions of labour, the quantity of materials which they can work up, increases in a much greater proportion than their numbers. Hence arises a demand for every sort of material which human invention can employ, either usefully or ornamentally, in building, dress, equipage, or household furniture; for the fossils and minerals contained in the bowels of the earth, the precious metals, and the precious stones.
Food is, in this manner, not only the original source of rent, but every other part of the produce of land which afterwards affords rent, derives that part of its value from the improvement of the powers of labour in producing food, by means of the improvement and cultivation of land.
Those other parts of the produce of land, however, which afterwards afford rent, do not afford it always. Even in improved and cultivated countries, the demand for them is not always such as to afford a greater price than what is sufficient to pay the labour, and replace, together with its ordinary profits, the stock which must be employed in bringing them to market. Whether it is or is not such, depends upon different circumstances.
Whether a coal mine, for example, can afford any rent, depends partly upon its fertility, and partly upon its situation.
A mine of any kind may be said to be either fertile or barren, according as the quantity of mineral which can be brought from it by a certain quantity of labour, is greater or less than what can be brought by an equal quantity from the greater part of other mines of the same kind.
Some coal mines, advantageously situated, cannot be wrought on account of their barrenness. The produce does not pay the expense. They can afford neither profit nor rent.
There are some, of which the produce is barely sufficient to pay the labour, and replace, together with its ordinary profits, the stock employed in working them. They afford some profit to the undertaker of the work, but no rent to the landlord. They can be wrought advantageously by nobody but the landlord, who, being himself the undertaker of the work, gets the ordinary profit of the capital which he employs in it. Many coal mines in Scotland are wrought in this manner, and can be wrought in no other. The landlord will allow nobody else to work them without paying some rent, and nobody can afford to pay any.
Other coal mines in the same country, sufficiently fertile, cannot be wrought on account of their situation. A quantity of mineral, sufficient to defray the expense of working, could be brought from the mine by the ordinary, or even less than the ordinary quantity of labour: but in an inland country, thinly inhabited, and without either good roads or water-carriage, this quantity could not be sold.
Coals are a less agreeable fuel than wood: they are said too to be less wholesome. The expense of coals, therefore, at the place where they are consumed, must generally be somewhat less than that of wood.
The price of wood, again, varies with the state of agriculture, nearly in the same manner, and exactly for the same reason, as the price of cattle. In its rude beginnings, the greater part of every country is covered with wood, which is then a mere incumbrance, of no value to the landlord, who would gladly give it to any body for the cutting. As agriculture advances, the woods are partly cleared by the progress of tillage, and partly go to decay in consequence of the increased number of cattle. These, though they do not increase in the same proportion as corn, which is altogether the acquisition of human industry, yet multiply under the care and protection of men, who store up in the season of plenty what may maintain them in that of scarcity; who, through the whole year, furnish them with a greater quantity of food than uncultivated nature provides for them; and who, by destroying and extirpating their enemies, secure them in the free enjoyment of all that she provides. Numerous herds of cattle, when allowed to wander through the woods, though they do not destroy the old trees, hinder any young ones from coming up; so that, in the course of a century or two, the whole forest goes to ruin. The scarcity of wood then raises its price. It affords a good rent; and the landlord sometimes finds that he can scarce employ his best lands more advantageously than in growing barren timber, of which the greatness of the profit often compensates the lateness of the returns. This seems, in the present times, to be nearly the state of things in several parts of Great Britain, where the profit of planting is found to be equal to that of either corn or pasture. The advantage which the landlord derives from planting can nowhere exceed, at least for any considerable time, the rent which these could afford him; and in an inland country, which is highly cultivated, it will frequently not fall much short of this rent. Upon the sea-coast of a well-improved country, indeed, if coals can conveniently be had for fuel, it may sometimes be cheaper to bring barren timber for building from less cultivated foreign countries than to raise it at home. In the new town of Edinburgh, built within these few years, there is not, perhaps, a single stick of Scotch timber.
Whatever may be the price of wood, if that of coals is such that the expense of a coal fire is nearly equal to that of a wood one we may be assured, that at that place, and in these circumstances, the price of coals is as high as it can be. It seems to be so in some of the inland parts of England, particularly in Oxfordshire, where it is usual, even in the fires of the common people, to mix coals and wood together, and where the difference in the expense of those two sorts of fuel cannot, therefore, be very great. Coals, in the coal countries, are everywhere much below this highest price. If they were not, they could not bear the expense of a distant carriage, either by land or by water. A small quantity only could be sold; and the coal masters and the coal proprietors find it more for their interest to sell a great quantity at a price somewhat above the lowest, than a small quantity at the highest. The most fertile coal mine, too, regulates the price of coals at all the other mines in its neighbourhood. Both the proprietor and the undertaker of the work find, the one that he can get a greater rent, the other that he can get a greater profit, by somewhat underselling all their neighbours. Their neighbours are soon obliged to sell at the same price, though they cannot so well afford it, and though it always diminishes, and sometimes takes away altogether, both their rent and their profit. Some works are abandoned altogether; others can afford no rent, and can be wrought only by the proprietor.
The lowest price at which coals can be sold for any considerable time, is, like that of all other commodities, the price which is barely sufficient to replace, together with its ordinary profits, the stock which must be employed in bringing them to market. At a coal mine for which the landlord can get no rent, but, which he must either work himself or let it alone altogether, the price of coals must generally be nearly about this price.
Rent, even where coals afford one, has generally a smaller share in their price than in that of most other parts of the rude produce of land. The rent of an estate above ground, commonly amounts to what is supposed to be a third of the gross produce; and it is generally a rent certain and independent of the occasional variations in the crop. In coal mines, a fifth of the gross produce is a very great rent, a tenth the common rent; and it is seldom a rent certain, but depends upon the occasional variations in the produce. These are so great, that in a country where thirty years purchase is considered as a moderate price for the property of a landed estate, ten years purchase is regarded as a good price for that of a coal mine.
The value of a coal mine to the proprietor, frequently depends as much upon its situation as upon its fertility. That of a metallic mine depends more upon its fertility, and less upon its situation. The coarse, and still more the precious metals, when separated from the ore, are so valuable, that they can generally bear the expense of a very long land, and of the most distant sea carriage. Their market is not confined to the countries in the neighbourhood of the mine, but extends to the whole world. The copper of Japan makes an article of commerce in Europe; the iron of Spain in that of Chili and Peru. The silver of Peru finds its way, not only to Europe, but from Europe to China.
The price of coals in Westmoreland or Shropshire can have little effect on their price at Newcastle; and their price in the Lionnois can have none at all. The productions of such distant coal mines can never be brought into competition with one another. But the productions of the most distant metallic mines frequently may, and in fact commonly are.
The price, therefore, of the coarse, and still more that of the precious metals, at the most fertile mines in the world, must necessarily more or less affect their price at every other in it. The price of copper in Japan must have some influence upon its price at the copper mines in Europe. The price of silver in Peru, or the quantity either of labour or of other goods which it will purchase there, must have some influence on its price, not only at the silver mines of Europe, but at those of China. After the discovery of the mines of Peru, the silver mines of Europe were, the greater part of them, abandoned. The value of silver was so much reduced, that their produce could no longer pay the expense of working them, or replace, with a profit, the food, clothes, lodging, and other necessaries which were consumed in that operation. This was the case, too, with the mines of Cuba and St. Domingo, and even with the ancient mines of Peru, after the discovery of those of Potosi. The price of every metal, at every mine, therefore, being regulated in some measure by its price at the most fertile mine in the world that is actually wrought, it can, at the greater part of mines, do very little more than pay the expense of working, and can seldom afford a very high rent to the landlord. Rent accordingly, seems at the greater part of mines to have but a small share in the price of the coarse, and a still smaller in that of the precious metals. Labour and profit make up the greater part of both.
A sixth part of the gross produce may be reckoned the average rent of the tin mines of Cornwall, the most fertile that are known in the world, as we are told by the Rev. Mr Borlace, vice-warden of the stannaries. Some, he says, afford more, and some do not afford so much. A sixth part of the gross produce is the rent, too, of several very fertile lead mines in Scotland.
In the silver mines of Peru, we are told by Frezier and Ulloa, the proprietor frequently exacts no other acknowledgment from the undertaker of the mine, but that he will grind the ore at his mill, paying him the ordinary multure or price of grinding. Till 1736, indeed, the tax of the king of Spain amounted to one fifth of the standard silver, which till then might be considered as the real rent of the greater part of the silver mines of Peru, the richest which have been known in the world. If there had been no tax, this fifth would naturally have belonged to the landlord, and many mines might have been wrought which could not then be wrought, because they could not afford this tax. The tax of the duke of Cornwall upon tin is supposed to amount to more than five per cent. or one twentieth part of the value; and whatever may be his proportion, it would naturally, too, belong to the proprietor of the mine, if tin was duty free. But if you add one twentieth to one sixth, you will find that the whole average rent of the tin mines of Cornwall, was to the whole average rent of the silver mines of Peru, as thirteen to twelve. But the silver mines of Peru are not now able to pay even this low rent; and the tax upon silver was, in 1736, reduced from one fifth to one tenth. Even this tax upon silver, too, gives more temptation to smuggling than the tax of one twentieth upon tin; and smuggling must be much easier in the precious than in the bulky commodity. The tax of the king of Spain, accordingly, is said to be very ill paid, and that of the duke of Cornwall very well. Rent, therefore, it is probable, makes a greater part of the price of tin at the most fertile tin mines than it does of silver at the most fertile silver mines in the world. After replacing the stock employed in working those different mines, together with its ordinary profits, the residue which remains to the proprietor is greater, it seems, in the coarse, than in the precious metal.
Neither are the profits of the undertakers of silver mines commonly very great in Peru. The same most respectable and well-informed authors acquaint us, that when any person undertakes to work a new mine in Peru, he is universally looked upon as a man destined to bankruptcy and ruin, and is upon that account shunned and avoided by every body. Mining, it seems, is considered there in the same light as here, as a lottery, in which the prizes do not compensate the blanks, though the greatness of some tempts many adventurers to throw away their fortunes in such unprosperous projects.
English
But when improving and cultivating the land enables one family's labor to provide food for two, the labor of half of society suffices to feed everyone. The other half—or at least most of them—can then be employed to provide other things and satisfy humanity's other wants and fancies. Clothing and shelter, household furnishings, and what is called equipage are the chief objects of most of these wants and fancies. A rich man consumes no more food than his poor neighbor. The quality may differ greatly, and choosing and preparing it may take more labor and skill, but the quantity is very nearly the same. Compare, however, one man's spacious palace and extensive wardrobe with the other's hovel and few rags, and you will see that the difference in their clothing, shelter, and furnishings is almost as great in quantity as in quality. Every person's desire for food is confined by the narrow capacity of the human stomach. The desire for the comforts and ornaments of buildings, dress, equipage, and household furnishings, however, seems to know no fixed limit. Those who command more food than they can consume themselves are therefore always willing to exchange the surplus—or, which amounts to the same thing, its price—for these other pleasures. What remains after a limited desire is satisfied is spent to indulge desires that cannot be satisfied and seem altogether endless. To obtain food, the poor work to satisfy the fancies of the rich; to obtain it more reliably, they compete to make their work cheaper and better. The number of workers rises as the quantity of food increases, or as the land is increasingly improved and cultivated. And because their work permits the finest divisions of labor, the quantity of materials they can work up rises in much greater proportion than their numbers. This gives rise to demand for every sort of material human ingenuity can put to use, whether for utility or ornament, in buildings, dress, equipage, or household furnishings: for the fossils and minerals beneath the earth's surface, the precious metals, and precious stones.
Food, then, is not only the original source of rent. Every other product of land that later yields rent derives that portion of its value from the growing productive power of labor in supplying food, brought about by the improvement and cultivation of the land.
Those other products of land that later yield rent, however, do not always yield it. Even in improved and cultivated countries, demand for them does not always command a price higher than what is needed to pay for labor and replace, with its ordinary profits, the stock used to bring them to market. Whether it does depends on the circumstances.
Whether a coal mine, for example, can yield any rent depends partly on how productive it is and partly on its location.
A mine of any kind may be called productive or barren according to whether a given quantity of labor can extract more or less mineral from it than the same labor could extract from most other mines of its kind.
Some coal mines, despite being well located, cannot be worked because they are barren. Their yield does not cover the expense; they provide neither profit nor rent.
At some mines, the yield is only just enough to pay for labor and to replace, with its ordinary profits, the stock used in working them. They bring the operator some profit, but the landlord no rent. No one but the landlord can work them to advantage: by operating them himself, he receives the ordinary profit on the capital he employs. Many Scottish coal mines are worked this way and cannot be worked any other way. The landlord will not let anyone else work them without paying rent, and no one can afford to pay it.
Other coal mines in the same country, though productive enough, cannot be worked because of their location. An ordinary amount of labor, or even less, could extract enough mineral to cover the costs of working them; but in a sparsely populated inland region without good roads or water transport, that amount could not be sold.
Coal is a less pleasant fuel than wood and is said to be less wholesome as well. At the place where it is consumed, therefore, coal must generally cost somewhat less than wood.
The price of wood, in turn, changes with the state of agriculture much as the price of cattle does, and for precisely the same reason. In agriculture's early stages, most of any country is covered in trees, which are then mere encumbrances, worthless to a landlord who would gladly give them away if someone would cut them down. As agriculture advances, tillage clears some woods, while the growing number of cattle causes others to die out. Cattle do not multiply in the same proportion as corn, which is entirely a product of human industry; nevertheless, they multiply under human care and protection. People store up food in seasons of plenty to sustain them in times of scarcity, feed them throughout the year more abundantly than uncultivated nature would, and destroy their enemies, leaving them free to enjoy all that nature supplies. When numerous herds are allowed to roam the woods, they prevent young trees from growing up, even if they do not destroy old ones; within a century or two, the whole forest decays. The resulting scarcity raises the price of wood. It yields a good rent, and a landlord sometimes finds that he can scarcely make better use of his finest land than to grow timber for building, whose considerable profit often compensates for the long wait before receiving it. This seems to be nearly the present state of affairs in parts of Great Britain, where planting trees is found as profitable as growing corn or pasture. The landlord's advantage from planting cannot anywhere exceed the rent those crops would yield, at least not for any considerable time; and in a highly cultivated inland region, it will often come close to that rent. On the coast of a well-improved country, however, where coal can readily be had for fuel, importing building timber from less cultivated countries can sometimes be cheaper than growing it at home. In the new town of Edinburgh, built within these few years, there is perhaps not a single piece of Scottish timber.
Whatever wood costs, if coal is priced so that a coal fire costs nearly as much as a wood fire, we may be sure that coal has reached the highest price it can command in that place and those circumstances. This seems to be the case in some inland parts of England, especially Oxfordshire, where even ordinary people's fires commonly burn coal and wood together, so the difference in the expense of these two fuels cannot be large. In coal-producing regions, coal is everywhere far below this highest price. Otherwise it could not bear the cost of long-distance transport by land or water. Only a small quantity could be sold, and coal operators and proprietors find it more profitable to sell a large quantity at somewhat above the lowest price than a small quantity at the highest. Moreover, the most productive coal mine determines the price of coal at all the other mines nearby. Its proprietor and operator find that by selling somewhat below all their neighbors, one can get a higher rent and the other a higher profit. Their neighbors are soon forced to charge the same price, even if they are less able to afford it, and even though it invariably reduces—and sometimes entirely destroys—both rent and profit. Some operations are abandoned altogether; others yield no rent and can be worked only by their proprietors.
The lowest price at which coal can be sold for any considerable time, like the lowest price of any other commodity, is just enough to replace the stock needed to bring it to market, along with its ordinary profits. At a coal mine from which the landlord can collect no rent, and which he must either work himself or leave idle, coal's price must generally be close to this minimum.
Even where coal does yield rent, rent generally accounts for a smaller share of its price than it does for most other raw products of the land. Rent for an estate above ground is commonly reckoned at a third of its gross produce, and is generally fixed, regardless of occasional changes in the harvest. At a coal mine, a fifth of the gross produce is a very high rent and a tenth the usual one; rent is seldom fixed but depends on occasional variations in the yield. These variations are so large that in a country where a price of thirty years purchase is considered moderate for a landed estate, ten years purchase is considered a good price for a coal mine.
The value of a coal mine to its proprietor often depends as much on location as on productivity. The value of a metal mine depends more on productivity and less on location. Both common metals and, still more, precious metals, once separated from their ores, are valuable enough generally to bear the expense of very long transport over land and the longest transport by sea. Their market is not limited to the countries near the mine but extends throughout the world. Copper from Japan is traded in Europe; iron from Spain is traded in Chili and Peru. Silver from Peru finds its way not only to Europe but onward from Europe to China.
The price of coal in Westmoreland or Shropshire has little effect on its price at Newcastle, and its price in the Lionnois has none at all. Coal from mines so far apart can never compete. But the products of the most distant metal mines often can, and ordinarily do.
The price of common metals, and still more of precious metals, at the world's most productive mines must therefore affect their price, to some extent, at every other mine. The price of copper in Japan must have some influence on its price at European copper mines. The price of silver in Peru—or the amount of labor or other goods it will buy there—must have some influence on its price at silver mines not only in Europe but also in China. Following the discovery of Peru's mines, most European silver mines were abandoned. Silver lost so much of its value that their output could no longer cover the cost of working them, or replace, with a profit, the food, clothing, shelter, and other necessities consumed in doing so. The mines of Cuba and St. Domingo suffered the same fate, as did even Peru's ancient mines after those at Potosi were discovered. Since the price of every metal at every mine is thus regulated to some degree by its price at the most productive mine currently being worked in the world, at most mines it can do little more than pay the cost of extraction and can seldom provide the landlord with very high rent. At most mines, accordingly, rent seems to account for only a small share of the price of common metals, and an even smaller share of that of precious metals. Labor and profit make up most of both prices.
According to the Rev. Mr Borlace, vice-warden of the stannaries, the average rent of the Cornwall tin mines, the most productive known in the world, may be reckoned at a sixth of gross output. Some yield more, he says, and some less. A sixth of gross output is also the rent at several very productive lead mines in Scotland.
At the silver mines of Peru, Frezier and Ulloa tell us, the proprietor often demands nothing from the operator beyond an agreement to grind the ore at his mill and pay the ordinary multure, or milling charge. Until 1736, however, the king of Spain levied a tax amounting to one fifth of the standard silver. Until then this might be considered the real rent of most Peruvian silver mines, the richest ever known. Without the tax, this fifth would naturally have gone to the landlord, and many mines unable to bear the tax could have been worked. The duke of Cornwall's tax on tin is thought to be more than five per cent. or one twentieth of its value; and whatever the precise share, it too would naturally go to the mine's proprietor if tin were free of duty. Add one twentieth to one sixth, and the whole average rent of Cornwall's tin mines stood to the whole average rent of Peru's silver mines as thirteen to twelve. But Peru's silver mines can no longer pay even this low rent: the tax on silver was reduced in 1736 from one fifth to one tenth. Even this silver tax gives a greater incentive to smuggle than the tax of one twentieth on tin, and smuggling is surely easier with a precious metal than with a bulky commodity. Accordingly, the king of Spain's tax is said to be very poorly paid and the duke of Cornwall's very well paid. Rent thus probably makes up a larger part of the price of tin at the most productive tin mines than it does of silver at the world's most productive silver mines. Once the stock employed in working the different mines has been replaced, together with its ordinary profits, the remainder going to the proprietor seems greater for the common metal than for the precious one.
Nor are the profits of Peru's silver-mine operators ordinarily very large. Those same highly respected and well-informed authors tell us that anyone who undertakes to work a new Peruvian mine is universally regarded as destined for bankruptcy and ruin, and people therefore shun and avoid him. Mining there, it seems, is viewed much as it is here: as a lottery whose prizes do not make up for its blanks, though the size of some prizes tempts many adventurers to squander their fortunes on such unpromising schemes.
Book I, Chapter XI, 5
18th-century English
As the sovereign, however, derives a considerable part of his revenue from the produce of silver mines, the law in Peru gives every possible encouragement to the discovery and working of new ones. Whoever discovers a new mine, is entitled to measure off two hundred and forty-six feet in length, according to what he supposes to be the direction of the vein, and half as much in breadth. He becomes proprietor of this portion of the mine, and can work it without paving any acknowledgment to the landlord. The interest of the duke of Cornwall has given occasion to a regulation nearly of the same kind in that ancient dutchy. In waste and uninclosed lands, any person who discovers a tin mine may mark out its limits to a certain extent, which is called bounding a mine. The bounder becomes the real proprietor of the mine, and may either work it himself, or give it in lease to another, without the consent of the owner of the land, to whom, however, a very small acknowledgment must be paid upon working it. In both regulations, the sacred rights of private property are sacrificed to the supposed interests of public revenue.
The same encouragement is given in Peru to the discovery and working of new gold mines; and in gold the king’s tax amounts only to a twentieth part of the standard rental. It was once a fifth, and afterwards a tenth, as in silver; but it was found that the work could not bear even the lowest of these two taxes. If it is rare, however, say the same authors, Frezier and Ulloa, to find a person who has made his fortune by a silver, it is still much rarer to find one who has done so by a gold mine. This twentieth part seems to be the whole rent which is paid by the greater part of the gold mines of Chili and Peru. Gold, too, is much more liable to be smuggled than even silver; not only on account of the superior value of the metal in proportion to its bulk, but on account of the peculiar way in which nature produces it. Silver is very seldom found virgin, but, like most other metals, is generally mineralized with some other body, from which it is impossible to separate it in such quantities as will pay for the expense, but by a very laborious and tedious operation, which cannot well be carried on but in work-houses erected for the purpose, and, therefore, exposed to the inspection of the king’s officers. Gold, on the contrary, is almost always found virgin. It is sometimes found in pieces of some bulk; and, even when mixed, in small and almost insensible particles, with sand, earth, and other extraneous bodies, it can be separated from them by a very short and simple operation, which can be carried on in any private house by any body who is possessed of a small quantity of mercury. If the king’s tax, therefore, is but ill paid upon silver, it is likely to be much worse paid upon gold; and rent must make a much smaller part of the price of gold than that of silver.
The lowest price at which the precious metals can be sold, or the smallest quantity of other goods for which they can be exchanged, during any considerable time, is regulated by the same principles which fix the lowest ordinary price of all other goods. The stock which must commonly be employed, the food, clothes, and lodging, which must commonly be consumed in bringing them from the mine to the market, determine it. It must at least be sufficient to replace that stock, with the ordinary profits.
Their highest price, however, seems not to be necessarily determined by any thing but the actual scarcity or plenty of these metals themselves. It is not determined by that of any other commodity, in the same manner as the price of coals is by that of wood, beyond which no scarcity can ever raise it. Increase the scarcity of gold to a certain degree, and the smallest bit of it may become more precious than a diamond, and exchange for a greater quantity of other goods.
The demand for those metals arises partly from their utility, and partly from their beauty. If you except iron, they are more useful than, perhaps, any other metal. As they are less liable to rust and impurity, they can more easily be kept clean; and the utensils, either of the table or the kitchen, are often, upon that account, more agreeable when made of them. A silver boiler is more cleanly than a lead, copper, or tin one; and the same quality would render a gold boiler still better than a silver one. Their principal merit, however, arises from their beauty, which renders them peculiarly fit for the ornaments of dress and furniture. No paint or dye can give so splendid a colour as gilding. The merit of their beauty is greatly enhanced by their scarcity. With the greater part of rich people, the chief enjoyment of riches consists in the parade of riches; which, in their eye, is never so complete as when they appear to possess those decisive marks of opulence which nobody can possess but themselves. In their eyes, the merit of an object, which is in any degree either useful or beautiful, is greatly enhanced by its scarcity, or by the great labour which it requires to collect any considerable quantity of it; a labour which nobody can afford to pay but themselves. Such objects they are willing to purchase at a higher price than things much more beautiful and useful, but more common. These qualities of utility, beauty, and scarcity, are the original foundation of the high price of those metals, or of the great quantity of other goods for which they can everywhere be exchanged. This value was antecedent to, and independent of their being employed as coin, and was the quality which fitted them for that employment. That employment, however, by occasioning a new demand, and by diminishing the quantity which could be employed in any other way, may have afterwards contributed to keep up or increase their value.
The demand for the precious stones arises altogether from their beauty. They are of no use but as ornaments; and the merit of their beauty is greatly enhanced by their scarcity, or by the difficulty and expense of getting them from the mine. Wages and profit accordingly make up, upon most occasions, almost the whole of the high price. Rent comes in but for a very small share, frequently for no share; and the most fertile mines only afford any considerable rent. When Tavernier, a jeweller, visited the diamond mines of Golconda and Visiapour, he was informed that the sovereign of the country, for whose benefit they were wrought, had ordered all of them to be shut up except those which yielded the largest and finest stones. The other, it seems, were to the proprietor not worth the working.
As the prices, both of the precious metals and of the precious stones, is regulated all over the world by their price at the most fertile mine in it, the rent which a mine of either can afford to its proprietor is in proportion, not to its absolute, but to what may be called its relative fertility, or to its superiority over other mines of the same kind. If new mines were discovered, as much superior to those of Potosi, as they were superior to those of Europe, the value of silver might be so much degraded as to render even the mines of Potosi not worth the working. Before the discovery of the Spanish West Indies, the most fertile mines in Europe may have afforded as great a rent to their proprietors as the richest mines in Peru do at present. Though the quantity of silver was much less, it might have exchanged for an equal quantity of other goods, and the proprietor’s share might have enabled him to purchase or command an equal quantity either of labour or of commodities.
The value, both of the produce and of the rent, the real revenue which they afforded, both to the public and to the proprietor, might have been the same.
The most abundant mines, either of the precious metals, or of the precious stones, could add little to the wealth of the world. A produce, of which the value is principally derived from its scarcity, is necessarily degraded by its abundance. A service of plate, and the other frivolous ornaments of dress and furniture, could be purchased for a smaller quantity of commodities; and in this would consist the sole advantage which the world could derive from that abundance.
It is otherwise in estates above ground. The value, both of their produce and of their rent, is in proportion to their absolute, and not to their relative fertility. The land which produces a certain quantity of food, clothes, and lodging, can always feed, clothe, and lodge, a certain number of people; and whatever may be the proportion of the landlord, it will always give him a proportionable command of the labour of those people, and of the commodities with which that labour can supply him. The value of the most barren land is not diminished by the neighbourhood of the most fertile. On the contrary, it is generally increased by it. The great number of people maintained by the fertile lands afford a market to many parts of the produce of the barren, which they could never have found among those whom their own produce could maintain.
Whatever increases the fertility of land in producing food, increases not only the value of the lands upon which the improvement is bestowed, but contributes likewise to increase that of many other lands, by creating a new demand for their produce. That abundance of food, of which, in consequence of the improvement of land, many people have the disposal beyond what they themselves can consume, is the great cause of the demand, both for the precious metals and the precious stones, as well as for every other conveniency and ornament of dress, lodging, household furniture, and equipage. Food not only constitutes the principal part of the riches of the world, but it is the abundance of food which gives the principal part of their value to many other sorts of riches. The poor inhabitants of Cuba and St. Domingo, when they were first discovered by the Spaniards, used to wear little bits of gold as ornaments in their hair and other parts of their dress. They seemed to value them as we would do any little pebbles of somewhat more than ordinary beauty, and to consider them as just worth the picking up, but not worth the refusing to any body who asked them, They gave them to their new guests at the first request, without seeming to think that they had made them any very valuable present. They were astonished to observe the rage of the Spaniards to obtain them; and had no notion that there could anywhere be a country in which many people had the disposal of so great a superfluity of food; so scanty always among themselves, that, for a very small quantity of those glittering baubles, they would willingly give as much as might maintain a whole family for many years. Could they have been made to understand this, the passion of the Spaniards would not have surprised them.
PART III.—Of the variations in the Proportion between the respective Values of that sort of Produce which always affords Rent, and of that which sometimes does, and sometimes does not, afford Rent.
The increasing abundance of food, in consequence of the increasing improvement and cultivation, must necessarily increase the demand for every part of the produce of land which is not food, and which can be applied either to use or to ornament. In the whole progress of improvement, it might, therefore, be expected there should be only one variation in the comparative values of those two different sorts of produce. The value of that sort which sometimes does, and sometimes does not afford rent, should constantly rise in proportion to that which always affords some rent. As art and industry advance, the materials of clothing and lodging, the useful fossils and materials of the earth, the precious metals and the precious stones, should gradually come to be more and more in demand, should gradually exchange for a greater and a greater quantity of food; or, in other words, should gradually become dearer and dearer. This, accordingly, has been the case with most of these things upon most occasions, and would have been the case with all of them upon all occasions, if particular accidents had not, upon some occasions, increased the supply of some of them in a still greater proportion than the demand.
The value of a free-stone quarry, for example, will necessarily increase with the increasing improvement and population of the country round about it, especially if it should be the only one in the neighbourhood. But the value of a silver mine, even though there should not be another within a thousand miles of it, will not necessarily increase with the improvement of the country in which it is situated. The market for the produce of a free-stone quarry can seldom extend more than a few miles round about it, and the demand must generally be in proportion to the improvement and population of that small district; but the market for the produce of a silver mine may extend over the whole known world. Unless the world in general, therefore, be advancing in improvement and population, the demand for silver might not be at all increased by the improvement even of a large country in the neighbourhood of the mine. Even though the world in general were improving, yet if, in the course of its improvements, new mines should be discovered, much more fertile than any which had been known before, though the demand for silver would necessarily increase, yet the supply might increase in so much a greater proportion, that the real price of that metal might gradually fall; that is, any given quantity, a pound weight of it, for example, might gradually purchase or command a smaller and a smaller quantity of labour, or exchange for a smaller and a smaller quantity of corn, the principal part of the subsistence of the labourer.
The great market for silver is the commercial and civilized part of the world.
If, by the general progress of improvement, the demand of this market should increase, while, at the same time, the supply did not increase in the same proportion, the value of silver would gradually rise in proportion to that of corn. Any given quantity of silver would exchange for a greater and a greater quantity of corn; or, in other words, the average money price of corn would gradually become cheaper and cheaper.
If, on the contrary, the supply, by some accident, should increase, for many years together, in a greater proportion than the demand, that metal would gradually become cheaper and cheaper; or, in other words, the average money price of corn would, in spite of all improvements, gradually become dearer and dearer.
But if, on the other hand, the supply of that metal should increase nearly in the same proportion as the demand, it would continue to purchase or exchange for nearly the same quantity of corn; and the average money price of corn would, in spite of all improvements. continue very nearly the same.
These three seem to exhaust all the possible combinations of events which can happen in the progress of improvement; and during the course of the four centuries preceding the present, if we may judge by what has happened both in France and Great Britain, each of those three different combinations seems to have taken place in the European market, and nearly in the same order, too, in which I have here set them down.
_Digression concerning the Variations in the value of Silver during the Course of the Four last Centuries._
First Period.—In 1350, and for some time before, the average price of the quarter of wheat in England seems not to have been estimated lower than four ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to about twenty shillings of our present money. From this price it seems to have fallen gradually to two ounces of silver, equal to about ten shillings of our present money, the price at which we find it estimated in the beginning of the sixteenth century, and at which it seems to have continued to be estimated till about 1570.
English
Yet because the sovereign draws a substantial part of his revenue from the output of silver mines, Peruvian law gives every possible encouragement to discovering and working new ones. Anyone who discovers a new mine may measure out two hundred and forty-six feet along what he believes to be the vein, and half that distance across. He becomes the owner of this portion of the mine and may work it without paying anything to the landowner. The interest of the duke of Cornwall has prompted a nearly identical rule in that ancient duchy. On wasteland and unenclosed land, anyone who finds a tin mine may mark off an area of a specified size, an act called bounding a mine. The bounder becomes its actual owner and may work it himself or lease it to someone else without the landowner's consent, though a very small payment must be made to the landowner when the mine is worked. Under both rules, the sacred rights of private property are sacrificed to the supposed interests of public revenue.
Peru gives the same encouragement to the discovery and working of new gold mines; on gold the king's tax amounts to only a twentieth part of the standard rental. It was once a fifth, and later a tenth, as it is on silver; but it was found that the work could not sustain even the lesser of those two taxes. Yet, as the same authors, Frezier and Ulloa, report, if it is rare to find anyone who has made a fortune from a silver mine, it is rarer still to find someone who has done so from a gold mine. This twentieth seems to be the entire rent paid by most of the gold mines of Chili and Peru. Gold is also more easily smuggled than silver, not only because the metal is worth more for its bulk but because of the particular form in which nature produces it. Silver is very seldom found in its native state: like most other metals, it is usually combined with some other substance. Separating it in quantities sufficient to repay the expense requires a long and laborious process, which can scarcely be carried out except in purpose-built workshops exposed to inspection by the king's officers. Gold, by contrast, is almost always found in its native state. Sometimes it occurs in pieces of considerable size; and even when it is mingled in tiny, almost invisible particles with sand, earth, and other foreign matter, it can be separated by a very short, simple process. Anyone with a little mercury can carry it out in a private house. If, then, the king's tax is poorly paid on silver, it is likely to be paid even worse on gold; and rent must account for a much smaller part of the price of gold than of silver.
The lowest price at which the precious metals can be sold for any considerable time—the smallest quantity of other goods for which they can be exchanged—is governed by the same principles that determine the lowest ordinary price of all other goods. It is determined by the stock that normally has to be employed, and the food, clothing, and lodging that normally have to be consumed, in bringing them from the mine to the market. The price must at least replace that stock, together with the ordinary profits.
Their highest price, however, seems to depend necessarily on nothing but how scarce or plentiful the metals themselves are. It is not set by the abundance of another commodity, as the price of coal is set by the price of wood, beyond which no scarcity can ever raise it. Make gold scarce enough and its smallest fragment might become more precious than a diamond, and exchange for a greater quantity of other goods.
Demand for these metals arises partly from their usefulness and partly from their beauty. Apart from iron, they are perhaps more useful than any other metal. Because they are less prone to rust and tarnish, they are easier to keep clean; utensils for the table or kitchen are therefore often more pleasing when made from them. A silver boiler is cleaner than one made of lead, copper, or tin, and the same property would make a gold boiler better still. Their principal attraction, however, is their beauty, which makes them especially suited to ornamenting dress and furniture. No paint or dye can produce a color as splendid as gilding. Scarcity greatly enhances the appeal of their beauty. For most rich people, the chief pleasure of wealth lies in displaying it; and, to their minds, the display is never complete until they appear to possess unmistakable signs of opulence that no one else can afford. In their eyes, the value of anything useful or beautiful is greatly increased by its rarity, or by the immense labor needed to gather any substantial quantity of it—labor that only they can afford to pay for. They will pay more for such objects than for others far more useful and beautiful but more common. Usefulness, beauty, and scarcity are the original basis of the high price of these metals, or of the great quantity of other goods for which they can everywhere be exchanged. This value preceded their use as coin and existed independently of it; indeed, it was the quality that made them suitable for that use. Their use as coin, however, by creating a new demand and reducing the quantity available for other purposes, may subsequently have helped maintain or increase their value.
Demand for precious stones arises entirely from their beauty. They serve no purpose except ornament, and the appeal of their beauty is greatly heightened by their rarity or by the difficulty and expense of extracting them from the mine. Wages and profit accordingly make up almost the whole of their high price in most cases. Rent accounts for only a very small share, often none at all; only the most productive mines yield any considerable rent. When Tavernier, a jeweler, visited the diamond mines of Golconda and Visiapour, he learned that the country's sovereign, for whose benefit they were worked, had ordered all but the mines yielding the largest and finest stones to be closed. Apparently the others were not worth working for their owner.
Since the prices of both precious metals and precious stones are governed throughout the world by their price at the most productive mine, the rent that a mine of either kind can yield its owner is proportional not to its absolute fertility but to what may be called its relative fertility—its superiority over other mines of the same kind. If mines were discovered as much richer than those of Potosi as those of Potosi were richer than Europe's, the value of silver might fall so far that even the mines of Potosi would no longer be worth working. Before the discovery of the Spanish West Indies, Europe's richest mines may have yielded their owners as great a rent as the richest mines of Peru do today. Although there was much less silver, it might have exchanged for an equal quantity of other goods, while the owner's share might have allowed him to buy or command an equal quantity of labor or commodities.
The value both of the output and of the rent—the real revenue that the mines yielded both to the public and to their owners—might have been the same.
Even the most abundant mines of precious metals or precious stones could add little to the world's wealth. A product whose value comes chiefly from scarcity necessarily loses value when it becomes abundant. Silverware and the other frivolous ornaments of dress and furniture could then be bought for fewer commodities; this would be the only benefit the world could gain from such abundance.
Estates above ground are another matter. The value both of their output and of their rent is proportional to their absolute fertility, not their relative fertility. Land that produces a certain amount of food, clothing, and lodging can always feed, clothe, and house a certain number of people. Whatever share the landlord receives will give him a corresponding command over those people's labor and the commodities their labor can supply. The value of the least fertile land is not reduced by its proximity to the most fertile; on the contrary, it is generally increased. The many people supported by fertile land provide a market for parts of the output of poorer land that could never find buyers among the people its own output supports.
Anything that improves the land's capacity to produce food increases not only the value of the land improved but also the value of many other lands, by creating new demand for their products. The abundance of food that improved land places in the hands of many people beyond what they can consume themselves is the great source of demand for precious metals and precious stones, as well as for every other convenience and ornament of dress, housing, household furniture, and equipage. Food not only constitutes the principal part of the world's riches: its abundance also gives many other kinds of riches the principal part of their value. When the Spaniards first encountered the poor inhabitants of Cuba and St. Domingo, the inhabitants wore tiny pieces of gold as ornaments in their hair and elsewhere on their clothing. They seemed to value them much as we would value attractive little pebbles: worth picking up, but not worth refusing to anyone who asked. They gave them to their new visitors at the first request, without seeming to think they were giving anything particularly valuable. They were astonished by the Spaniards' eagerness to obtain them; they could not imagine a country where many people had such a surplus of food—always so scarce among themselves—that they would willingly give enough to sustain a whole family for many years in return for a very small quantity of these glittering trinkets. If they had understood this, the Spaniards' passion would not have surprised them.
PART III.—On the variations in the Proportion between the respective Values of the kind of Produce which always yields Rent and the kind which sometimes does and sometimes does not yield Rent.
As cultivation and improvement bring an increasing abundance of food, demand must necessarily increase for every part of the land's output that is not food and can be put to use or ornament. Throughout the course of improvement, therefore, we might expect only one kind of change in the relative values of these two kinds of output. The value of the kind that sometimes yields rent and sometimes does not should steadily rise relative to the kind that always yields some rent. As skill and industry advance, materials for clothing and housing, useful minerals and materials from the earth, precious metals, and precious stones should all gradually be sought more and more, exchange for increasing quantities of food, or, in other words, grow ever dearer. This has indeed happened to most of these things on most occasions. It would have happened to all of them on every occasion if particular accidents had not sometimes increased the supply of some of them even faster than the demand.
The value of a building-stone quarry, for example, must rise as the surrounding country becomes more developed and populous, especially if it is the only quarry nearby. But the value of a silver mine need not rise with the development of the country where it lies, even if there is no other mine within a thousand miles. The market for a building-stone quarry's output rarely extends more than a few miles around it, and demand is generally proportional to the development and population of that small district. The market for a silver mine's output, however, may span the entire known world. Unless the world as a whole is growing in development and population, therefore, even the improvement of a large country near the mine might not increase the demand for silver at all. Even if the world as a whole were improving, new mines far richer than any previously known might be discovered in the process. Although demand for silver would necessarily rise, supply could rise so much faster that the metal's real price would gradually fall: a given amount—a pound weight of silver, for example—might buy or command less and less labor, or exchange for less and less corn, the principal part of the laborer's subsistence.
The great market for silver is the commercial and civilized part of the world.
If general progress increased demand in this market while supply failed to keep pace, the value of silver would gradually rise relative to corn. A given quantity of silver would exchange for more and more corn; in other words, the average money price of corn would gradually become cheaper and cheaper.
If, conversely, some accident caused supply to rise faster than demand for many years, the metal would gradually become cheaper and cheaper; in other words, despite all improvements, the average money price of corn would gradually become dearer and dearer.
But if the supply of the metal rose at nearly the same rate as demand, it would continue to buy or exchange for nearly the same quantity of corn; and despite all improvements the average money price of corn would remain nearly the same.
These three cases seem to cover every possible course of events as improvement advances. If we judge from what happened in both France and Great Britain during the four centuries preceding the present, all three seem to have occurred in the European market, and in nearly the order in which I have set them out.
Digression on the Variations in the Value of Silver during the Last Four Centuries.
First Period.—In 1350, and for some time before it, the average price of a quarter of wheat in England seems not to have been reckoned below four ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to about twenty shillings in our present money. It seems to have fallen gradually from this level to two ounces of silver, equal to about ten shillings in our present money. This is the price at which we find it reckoned at the beginning of the sixteenth century, and at which it seems to have continued until about 1570.
Book I, Chapter XI, 6
18th-century English
In 1350, being the 25th of Edward III. was enacted what is called the Statute of Labourers. In the preamble, it complains much of the insolence of servants, who endeavoured to raise their wages upon their masters. It therefore ordains, that all servants and labourers should, for the future, be contented with the same wages and liveries (liveries in those times signified not only clothes, but provisions) which they had been accustomed to receive in the 20th year of the king, and the four preceding years; that, upon this account, their livery-wheat should nowhere be estimated higher than tenpence a-bushel, and that it should always be in the option of the master to deliver them either the wheat or the money. Tenpence: a-bushel, therefore, had, in the 25th of Edward III. been reckoned a very moderate price of wheat, since it required a particular statute to oblige servants to accept of it in exchange for their usual livery of provisions; and it had been reckoned a reasonable price ten years before that, or in the 16th year of the king, the term to which the statute refers. But in the 16th year of Edward III. tenpence contained about half an ounce of silver, Tower weight, and was nearly equal to half-a-crown of our present money. Four ounces of silver, Tower weight, therefore, equal to six shillings and eightpence of the money of those times, and to near twenty shillings of that of the present, must have been reckoned a moderate price for the quarter of eight bushels.
This statute is surely a better evidence of what was reckoned, in those times, a moderate price of grain, than the prices of some particular years, which have generally been recorded by historians and other writers, on account of their extraordinary dearness or cheapness, and from which, therefore, it is difficult to form any judgment concerning what may have been the ordinary price. There are, besides, other reasons for believing that, in the beginning of the fourteenth century, and for some time before, the common price of wheat was not less than four ounces of silver the quarter, and that of other grain in proportion.
In 1309, Ralph de Born, prior of St Augustine’s, Canterbury, gave a feast upon his installation-day, of which William Thorn has preserved, not only the bill of fare, but the prices of many particulars. In that feast were consumed, 1st, fifty-three quarters of wheat, which cost nineteen pounds, or seven shillings, and twopence a-quarter, equal to about one-and-twenty shillings and sixpence of our present money; 2dly, fifty-eight quarters of malt, which cost seventeen pounds ten shillings, or six shillings a-quarter, equal to about eighteen shillings of our present money; 3dly, twenty quarters of oats, which cost four pounds, or four shillings a-quarter, equal to about twelve shillings of our present money. The prices of malt and oats seem here to be higher than their ordinary proportion to the price of wheat.
These prices are not recorded, on account of their extraordinary dearness or cheapness, but are mentioned accidentally, as the prices actually paid for large quantities of grain consumed at a feast, which was famous for its magnificence.
In 1262, being the 51st of Henry III. was revived an ancient statute, called the assize of bread and ale, which, the king says in the preamble, had been made in the times of his progenitors, some time kings of England. It is probably, therefore, as old at least as the time of his grandfather, Henry II. and may have been as old as the Conquest. It regulates the price of bread according as the prices of wheat may happen to be, from one shilling to twenty shillings the quarter of the money of those times. But statutes of this kind are generally presumed to provide with equal care for all deviations from the middle price, for those below it, as well as for those above it. Ten shillings, therefore, containing six ounces of silver, Tower weight, and equal to about thirty shillings of our present money, must, upon this supposition, have been reckoned the middle price of the quarter of wheat when this statute was first enacted, and must have continued to be so in the 51st of Henry III. We cannot, therefore, be very wrong in supposing that the middle price was not less than one-third of the highest price at which this statute regulates the price of bread, or than six shillings and eightpence of the money of those times, containing four ounces of silver, Tower weight.
From these different facts, therefore, we seem to have some reason to conclude that, about the middle of the fourteenth century, and for a considerable time before, the average or ordinary price of the quarter of wheat was not supposed to be less than four ounces of silver, Tower weight.
From about the middle of the fourteenth to the beginning of the sixteenth century, what was reckoned the reasonable and moderate, that is, the ordinary or average price of wheat, seems to have sunk gradually to about one half of this price; so as at last to have fallen to about two ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to about ten shillings of our present money. It continued to be estimated at this price till about 1570.
In the household book of Henry, the fifth earl of Northumberland, drawn up in 1512 there are two different estimations of wheat. In one of them it is computed at six shilling and eightpence the quarter, in the other at five shillings and eightpence only. In 1512, six shillings and eightpence contained only two ounces of silver, Tower weight, and were equal to about ten shillings of our present money.
From the 25th of Edward III. to the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth, during the space of more than two hundred years, six shillings and eightpence, it appears from several different statutes, had continued to be considered as what is called the moderate and reasonable, that is, the ordinary or average price of wheat. The quantity of silver, however, contained in that nominal sum was, during the course of this period, continually diminishing in consequence of some alterations which were made in the coin. But the increase of the value of silver had, it seems, so far compensated the diminution of the quantity of it contained in the same nominal sum, that the legislature did not think it worth while to attend to this circumstance.
Thus, in 1436, it was enacted, that wheat might be exported without a licence when the price was so low as six shillings and eightpence: and in 1463, it was enacted, that no wheat should be imported if the price was not above six shillings and eightpence the quarter: The legislature had imagined, that when the price was so low, there could be no inconveniency in exportation, but that when it rose higher, it became prudent to allow of importation. Six shillings and eightpence, therefore, containing about the same quantity of silver as thirteen shillings and fourpence of our present money (one-third part less than the same nominal sum contained in the time of Edward III), had, in those times, been considered as what is called the moderate and reasonable price of wheat.
In 1554, by the 1st and 2nd of Philip and Mary, and in 1558, by the 1st of Elizabeth, the exportation of wheat was in the same manner prohibited, whenever the price of the quarter should exceed six shillings and eightpence, which did not then contain two penny worth more silver than the same nominal sum does at present. But it had soon been found, that to restrain the exportation of wheat till the price was so very low, was, in reality, to prohibit it altogether. In 1562, therefore, by the 5th of Elizabeth, the exportation of wheat was allowed from certain ports, whenever the price of the quarter should not exceed ten shillings, containing nearly the same quantity of silver as the like nominal sum does at present. This price had at this time, therefore, been considered as what is called the moderate and reasonable price of wheat. It agrees nearly with the estimation of the Northumberland book in 1512.
That in France the average price of grain was, in the same manner, much lower in the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth century, than in the two centuries preceding, has been observed both by Mr Dupré de St Maur, and by the elegant author of the Essay on the Policy of Grain. Its price, during the same period, had probably sunk in the same manner through the greater part of Europe.
This rise in the value of silver, in proportion to that of corn, may either have been owing altogether to the increase of the demand for that metal, in consequence of increasing improvement and cultivation, the supply, in the mean time, continuing the same as before; or, the demand continuing the same as before, it may have been owing altogether to the gradual diminution of the supply: the greater part of the mines which were then known in the world being much exhausted, and, consequently, the expense of working them much increased; or it may have been owing partly to the one, and partly to the other of those two circumstances. In the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centuries, the greater part of Europe was approaching towards a more settled form of government than it had enjoyed for several ages before. The increase of security would naturally increase industry and improvement; and the demand for the precious metals, as well as for every other luxury and ornament, would naturally increase with the increase of riches. A greater annual produce would require a greater quantity of coin to circulate it; and a greater number of rich people would require a greater quantity of plate and other ornaments of silver. It is natural to suppose, too, that the greater part of the mines which then supplied the European market with silver might be a good deal exhausted, and have become more expensive in the working. They had been wrought, many of them, from the time of the Romans.
It has been the opinion, however, of the greater part of those who have written upon the prices of commodities in ancient times, that, from the Conquest, perhaps from the invasion of Julius Caesar, till the discovery of the mines of America, the value of silver was continually diminishing. This opinion they seem to have been led into, partly by the observations which they had occasion to make upon the prices both of corn and of some other parts of the rude produce of land, and partly by the popular notion, that as the quantity of silver naturally increases in every country with the increase of wealth, so its value diminishes as it quantity increases.
In their observations upon the prices of corn, three different circumstances seem frequently to have misled them.
First, in ancient times, almost all rents were paid in kind; in a certain quantity of corn, cattle, poultry, etc. It sometimes happened, however, that the landlord would stipulate, that he should be at liberty to demand of the tenant, either the annual payment in kind or a certain sum of money instead of it. The price at which the payment in kind was in this manner exchanged for a certain sum of money, is in Scotland called the conversion price. As the option is always in the landlord to take either the substance or the price, it is necessary, for the safety of the tenant, that the conversion price should rather be below than above the average market price. In many places, accordingly, it is not much above one half of this price. Through the greater part of Scotland this custom still continues with regard to poultry, and in some places with regard to cattle. It might probably have continued to take place, too, with regard to corn, had not the institution of the public fiars put an end to it. These are annual valuations, according to the judgment of an assize, of the average price of all the different sorts of grain, and of all the different qualities of each, according to the actual market price in every different county. This institution rendered it sufficiently safe for the tenant, and much more convenient for the landlord, to convert, as they call it, the corn rent, rather at what should happen to be the price of the fiars of each year, than at any certain fixed price. But the writers who have collected the prices of corn in ancient times seem frequently to have mistaken what is called in Scotland the conversion price for the actual market price. Fleetwood acknowledges, upon one occasion, that he had made this mistake. As he wrote his book, however, for a particular purpose, he does not think proper to make this acknowledgment till after transcribing this conversion price fifteen times. The price is eight shillings the quarter of wheat. This sum in 1423, the year at which he begins with it, contained the same quantity of silver as sixteen shillings of our present money. But in 1562, the year at which he ends with it, it contained no more than the same nominal sum does at present.
Secondly, they have been misled by the slovenly manner in which some ancient statutes of assize had been sometimes transcribed by lazy copiers, and sometimes, perhaps, actually composed by the legislature.
The ancient statutes of assize seem to have begun always with determining what ought to be the price of bread and ale when the price of wheat and barley were at the lowest; and to have proceeded gradually to determine what it ought to be, according as the prices of those two sorts of grain should gradually rise above this lowest price. But the transcribers of those statutes seem frequently to have thought it sufficient to copy the regulation as far as the three or four first and lowest prices; saving in this manner their own labour, and judging, I suppose, that this was enough to show what proportion ought to be observed in all higher prices.
Thus, in the assize of bread and ale, of the 51st of Henry III. the price of bread was regulated according to the different prices of wheat, from one shilling to twenty shillings the quarter of the money of those times. But in the manuscripts from which all the different editions of the statutes, preceding that of Mr Ruffhead, were printed, the copiers had never transcribed this regulation beyond the price of twelve shillings. Several writers, therefore, being misled by this faulty transcription, very naturally conclude that the middle price, or six shillings the quarter, equal to about eighteen shillings of our present money, was the ordinary or average price of wheat at that time.
In the statute of Tumbrel and Pillory, enacted nearly about the same time, the price of ale is regulated according to every sixpence rise in the price of barley, from two shillings, to four shillings the quarter. That four shillings, however, was not considered as the highest price to which barley might frequently rise in those times, and that these prices were only given as an example of the proportion which ought to be observed in all other prices, whether higher or lower, we may infer from the last words of the statute: “Et sic deinceps crescetur vel diminuetur per sex denarios.” The expression is very slovenly, but the meaning is plain enough, “that the price of ale is in this manner to be increased or diminished according to every sixpence rise or fall in the price of barley.” In the composition of this statute, the legislature itself seems to have been as negligent as the copiers were in the transcription of the other.
In an ancient manuscript of the Regiam Majestatem, an old Scotch law book, there is a statute of assize, in which the price of bread is regulated according to all the different prices of wheat, from tenpence to three shillings the Scotch boll, equal to about half an English quarter. Three shillings Scotch, at the time when this assize is supposed to have been enacted, were equal to about nine shillings sterling of our present money. Mr Ruddiman seems {See his Preface to Anderson’s Diplomata Scotiae.} to conclude from this, that three shillings was the highest price to which wheat ever rose in those times, and that tenpence, a shilling, or at most two shillings, were the ordinary prices. Upon consulting the manuscript, however, it appears evidently, that all these prices are only set down as examples of the proportion which ought to be observed between the respective prices of wheat and bread. The last words of the statute are “reliqua judicabis secundum praescripta, habendo respectum ad pretium bladi.”—“You shall judge of the remaining cases, according to what is above written, having respect to the price of corn.”
English
In 1350, the 25th year of Edward III, the measure known as the Statute of Laborers was enacted. Its preamble complains bitterly of the insolence of servants who tried to raise their wages at their masters' expense. It accordingly orders all servants and laborers henceforth to accept the same wages and liveries (at that time liveries meant provisions as well as clothing) that they had customarily received in the king's 20th year and the four preceding years. Wheat supplied as part of their livery was therefore nowhere to be valued above tenpence a bushel; the master was always free to supply either the wheat or the money. In the 25th year of Edward III, then, tenpence a bushel must have been considered a very moderate price for wheat, since a special statute was needed to compel servants to accept it in place of their customary provision of food. It must also have been regarded as a reasonable price ten years earlier, in the king's 16th year, the period to which the statute refers. But in the 16th year of Edward III, tenpence contained about half an ounce of silver, Tower weight, and was nearly equal to half-a-crown in our present money. Four ounces of silver, Tower weight, therefore, equal to six shillings and eightpence in the money of that time and to nearly twenty shillings in present money, must have been considered a moderate price for a quarter of eight bushels.
This statute surely offers better evidence of what was considered a moderate price of grain at that time than do the prices of particular years, generally recorded by historians and other writers precisely because they were exceptionally high or low, and therefore hard to use in judging the ordinary price. There are other grounds, too, for believing that at the beginning of the fourteenth century, and for some time before, the usual price of wheat was no less than four ounces of silver per quarter, with other grain priced proportionately.
In 1309, Ralph de Born, prior of St Augustine's, Canterbury, held a feast on the day of his installation. William Thorn preserved not just the menu but the prices of many of its items. The feast consumed, first, fifty-three quarters of wheat costing nineteen pounds, or seven shillings and twopence a quarter, equal to about one-and-twenty shillings and sixpence in our present money; second, fifty-eight quarters of malt costing seventeen pounds ten shillings, or six shillings a quarter, equal to about eighteen shillings in our present money; and third, twenty quarters of oats costing four pounds, or four shillings a quarter, equal to about twelve shillings in our present money. Here malt and oats seem unusually expensive in proportion to wheat.
These prices were not recorded for being unusually high or low. They are mentioned incidentally as the actual prices paid for large quantities of grain consumed at a feast renowned for its magnificence.
In 1262, the 51st year of Henry III, an old statute called the assize of bread and ale was revived. In its preamble the king says that it had been enacted under his forebears, former kings of England. It is thus probably at least as old as the reign of his grandfather Henry II, and may date back to the Conquest. It fixes the price of bread according to the price of wheat, from one shilling to twenty shillings a quarter in the money of that time. Statutes of this kind, however, are generally presumed to make equally careful provision for deviations on either side of the middle price, below it as well as above. On that assumption, ten shillings, containing six ounces of silver, Tower weight, and equal to about thirty shillings in our present money, must have been considered the middle price of a quarter of wheat when the statute was first enacted, and must still have been so in the 51st year of Henry III. We can scarcely be far wrong, then, in supposing that the middle price was at least one-third of the highest price at which the statute regulates bread, namely six shillings and eightpence in the money of that time, containing four ounces of silver, Tower weight.
These several facts therefore give us reason to conclude that, around the middle of the fourteenth century and for a considerable time before, the average or ordinary price of a quarter of wheat was not thought to be less than four ounces of silver, Tower weight.
Between about the middle of the fourteenth century and the beginning of the sixteenth, the price considered reasonable and moderate—that is, the ordinary or average price of wheat—seems to have gradually fallen by about half. Eventually it reached about two ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to about ten shillings in our present money. It continued to be valued at this level until about 1570.
In the household book of Henry, the fifth earl of Northumberland, drawn up in 1512, wheat is valued in two different ways: at six shillings and eightpence a quarter in one reckoning, and only five shillings and eightpence in the other. In 1512, six shillings and eightpence contained just two ounces of silver, Tower weight, and equaled about ten shillings in our present money.
From the 25th year of Edward III to the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, a span of more than two hundred years, several statutes show that six shillings and eightpence continued to be regarded as the so-called moderate and reasonable price of wheat—in other words, its ordinary or average price. The amount of silver contained in that nominal sum was, however, steadily declining throughout the period because of changes to the coinage. The rise in silver's value seems to have compensated so far for the decrease in its quantity within that sum that the legislature thought the difference unworthy of attention.
Thus, in 1436, it was enacted that wheat could be exported without a license when its price was as low as six shillings and eightpence; and in 1463, it was enacted that wheat could not be imported unless its price exceeded six shillings and eightpence a quarter. The legislature supposed that exports posed no inconvenience when the price was so low, but that when it rose higher, allowing imports was prudent. Six shillings and eightpence, containing about as much silver as thirteen shillings and fourpence in our present money (one-third less than that nominal sum contained under Edward III), was therefore considered the moderate and reasonable price of wheat at that time.
In 1554, under the 1st and 2nd of Philip and Mary, and in 1558, under the 1st of Elizabeth, exports of wheat were likewise forbidden whenever the price per quarter exceeded six shillings and eightpence. That sum then contained no more than two penny worth more silver than the same nominal sum contains today. It was soon found, however, that restricting wheat exports until the price fell so low amounted in practice to forbidding them altogether. In 1562, therefore, under the 5th of Elizabeth, wheat exports from certain ports were permitted whenever the price per quarter did not exceed ten shillings, containing almost the same amount of silver as the identical nominal sum today. At that time, then, this was regarded as the moderate and reasonable price of wheat. It closely agrees with the valuation in the Northumberland book of 1512.
Both Mr Dupré de St Maur and the elegant author of the Essay on the Policy of Grain have observed that in France, likewise, the average price of grain was much lower at the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth century than in the preceding two centuries. Its price probably fell in much the same way across most of Europe during that period.
This rise in the value of silver relative to corn might have resulted entirely from greater demand for the metal as cultivation and improvement advanced, while supply remained unchanged. Or it might, with demand unchanged, have resulted entirely from a gradual decline in supply, as most mines then known in the world became badly depleted and consequently much more expensive to work. Or both circumstances might have played a part. By the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth century, most of Europe was moving toward more stable government than it had enjoyed for several ages. Increased security would naturally foster industry and improvement; demand for precious metals, like demand for every other luxury and ornament, would naturally grow with wealth. A larger annual output would need more coin to circulate it, and more wealthy people would want more silverware and other silver ornaments. It is natural to suppose, too, that many of the mines supplying the European silver market had been substantially depleted and had become more expensive to work. Many had been worked since Roman times.
Most writers on the prices of commodities in antiquity, however, have believed that silver's value declined continuously from the Conquest, perhaps even from Julius Caesar's invasion, until the discovery of the American mines. They seem to have reached this conclusion partly from their observations of the prices of corn and other unprocessed products of the land, and partly from the popular belief that as a country's wealth grows, its quantity of silver naturally grows, and its value therefore falls as its quantity rises.
Three distinct circumstances seem often to have misled them in their observations of corn prices.
First, in ancient times almost all rent was paid in kind—in specified amounts of corn, cattle, poultry, and so forth. Sometimes, however, the landlord stipulated that he could choose between receiving the annual payment in kind and receiving a specified sum of money instead. The price at which a payment in kind could thus be exchanged for a sum of money is called the conversion price in Scotland. Since the landlord always has the choice between the goods and their money value, protecting the tenant requires the conversion price to be set below, rather than above, the average market price. Accordingly, in many places it is scarcely more than half that market price. The custom persists throughout most of Scotland for poultry and in some places for cattle. It might well have persisted for corn too had it not been ended by the establishment of the public fiars. These are annual valuations, made by an assize, of the average price of every kind of grain and every grade of each, based on actual market prices in each county. They made it safe enough for the tenant, and much more convenient for the landlord, to convert the corn rent, as they call it, at each year's fiars price instead of a fixed price. Yet writers collecting ancient corn prices have often apparently mistaken the Scottish conversion price for the actual market price. Fleetwood admits on one occasion to having made this error. Because he wrote his book for a particular purpose, however, he does not see fit to admit it until after he has copied the conversion price fifteen times. That price is eight shillings a quarter for wheat. In 1423, the year with which he begins using it, this sum contained as much silver as sixteen shillings in our present money. In 1562, the year with which he ends, it contained no more than the same nominal sum does today.
Second, they have been misled by the careless way some ancient assize statutes were transcribed by idle copyists, or sometimes perhaps drafted by the legislature itself.
The ancient assize statutes seem invariably to have begun by setting the prices of bread and ale for wheat and barley at their lowest prices, and then to have specified gradually what bread and ale should cost as the prices of those two grains rose above that level. The copyists, however, often seem to have thought it sufficient to copy the rule only as far as the first three or four, lowest prices. They thus saved themselves labor and, I suppose, judged that enough had been copied to show the proportion to be maintained at all higher prices.
Thus, in the assize of bread and ale from the 51st year of Henry III, the price of bread was regulated for wheat prices ranging from one shilling to twenty shillings a quarter in the money of that time. But in the manuscripts from which all editions of the statutes before Mr Ruffhead's were printed, copyists had never carried the regulation beyond a price of twelve shillings. Several writers, misled by this defective transcription, therefore quite naturally conclude that the middle price—six shillings a quarter, equal to about eighteen shillings in our present money—was the ordinary or average price of wheat at the time.
In the statute of Tumbrel and Pillory, enacted at nearly the same time, the price of ale is regulated for each sixpence rise in the price of barley, from two shillings to four shillings a quarter. Yet we can infer from the statute's last words that four shillings was not considered the highest price barley could commonly reach, and that these prices were given merely as examples of the proportion to observe at every other price, higher or lower: “Et sic deinceps crescetur vel diminuetur per sex denarios.” The expression is careless, but its meaning is clear enough: “the price of ale is thus to be raised or lowered with every sixpence rise or fall in the price of barley.” The legislature itself seems to have been as careless in drafting this statute as the copyists were in transcribing the other one.
An ancient manuscript of the Regiam Majestatem, an old Scottish law book, contains an assize statute that regulates the price of bread for every price of wheat from tenpence to three shillings a Scottish boll, approximately half an English quarter. At the time this assize is believed to have been enacted, three Scottish shillings equaled about nine shillings sterling in our present money. Mr Ruddiman seems [See his Preface to Anderson's Diplomata Scotiae.] to conclude that three shillings was the highest price wheat ever reached in those days, while tenpence, a shilling, or at most two shillings were ordinary prices. On examining the manuscript, however, it becomes plain that all these prices are merely examples of the proportion to maintain between the respective prices of wheat and bread. The statute ends with the words “reliqua judicabis secundum praescripta, habendo respectum ad pretium bladi.”—“You shall judge the remaining cases according to what is written above, taking account of the price of corn.”
Book I, Chapter XI, 7
18th-century English
Thirdly, they seem to have been misled too, by the very low price at which wheat was sometimes sold in very ancient times; and to have imagined, that as its lowest price was then much lower than in later times its ordinary price must likewise have been much lower. They might have found, however, that in those ancient times its highest price was fully as much above, as its lowest price was below any thing that had ever been known in later times. Thus, in 1270, Fleetwood gives us two prices of the quarter of wheat. The one is four pounds sixteen shillings of the money of those times, equal to fourteen pounds eight shillings of that of the present; the other is six pounds eight shillings, equal to nineteen pounds four shillings of our present money. No price can be found in the end of the fifteenth, or beginning of the sixteenth century, which approaches to the extravagance of these. The price of corn, though at all times liable to variation varies most in those turbulent and disorderly societies, in which the interruption of all commerce and communication hinders the plenty of one part of the country from relieving the scarcity of another. In the disorderly state of England under the Plantagenets, who governed it from about the middle of the twelfth till towards the end of the fifteenth century, one district might be in plenty, while another, at no great distance, by having its crop destroyed, either by some accident of the seasons, or by the incursion of some neighbouring baron, might be suffering all the horrors of a famine; and yet if the lands of some hostile lord were interposed between them, the one might not be able to give the least assistance to the other. Under the vigorous administration of the Tudors, who governed England during the latter part of the fifteenth, and through the whole of the sixteenth century, no baron was powerful enough to dare to disturb the public security.
The reader will find at the end of this chapter all the prices of wheat which have been collected by Fleetwood, from 1202 to 1597, both inclusive, reduced to the money of the present times, and digested, according to the order of time, into seven divisions of twelve years each. At the end of each division, too, he will find the average price of the twelve years of which it consists. In that long period of time, Fleetwood has been able to collect the prices of no more than eighty years; so that four years are wanting to make out the last twelve years. I have added, therefore, from the accounts of Eton college, the prices of 1598, 1599, 1600, and 1601. It is the only addition which I have made. The reader will see, that from the beginning of the thirteenth till after the middle of the sixteenth century, the average price of each twelve years grows gradually lower and lower; and that towards the end of the sixteenth century it begins to rise again. The prices, indeed, which Fleetwood has been able to collect, seem to have been those chiefly which were remarkable for extraordinary dearness or cheapness; and I do not pretend that any very certain conclusion can be drawn from them. So far, however, as they prove any thing at all, they confirm the account which I have been endeavouring to give. Fleetwood himself, however, seems, with most other writers, to have believed, that, during all this period, the value of silver, in consequence of its increasing abundance, was continually diminishing. The prices of corn, which he himself has collected, certainly do not agree with this opinion. They agree perfectly with that of Mr Dupré de St Maur, and with that which I have been endeavouring to explain. Bishop Fleetwood and Mr Dupré de St Maur are the two authors who seem to have collected, with the greatest diligence and fidelity, the prices of things in ancient times. It is somewhat curious that, though their opinions are so very different, their facts, so far as they relate to the price of corn at least, should coincide so very exactly.
It is not, however, so much from the low price of corn, as from that of some other parts of the rude produce of land, that the most judicious writers have inferred the great value of silver in those very ancient times. Corn, it has been said, being a sort of manufacture, was, in those rude ages, much dearer in proportion than the greater part of other commodities; it is meant, I suppose, than the greater part of unmanufactured commodities, such as cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, etc. That in those times of poverty and barbarism these were proportionably much cheaper than corn, is undoubtedly true. But this cheapness was not the effect of the high value of silver, but of the low value of those commodities. It was not because silver would in such times purchase or represent a greater quantity of labour, but because such commodities would purchase or represent a much smaller quantity than in times of more opulence and improvement. Silver must certainly be cheaper in Spanish America than in Europe; in the country where it is produced, than in the country to which it is brought, at the expense of a long carriage both by land and by sea, of a freight, and an insurance. One-and-twenty pence halfpenny sterling, however, we are told by Ulloa, was, not many years ago, at Buenos Ayres, the price of an ox chosen from a herd of three or four hundred. Sixteen shillings sterling, we are told by Mr Byron, was the price of a good horse in the capital of Chili. In a country naturally fertile, but of which the far greater part is altogether uncultivated, cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, etc. as they can be acquired with a very small quantity of labour, so they will purchase or command but a very small quantity. The low money price for which they may be sold, is no proof that the real value of silver is there very high, but that the real value of those commodities is very low.
Labour, it must always be remembered, and not any particular commodity, or set of commodities, is the real measure of the value both of silver and of all other commodities.
But in countries almost waste, or but thinly inhabited, cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, etc. as they are the spontaneous productions of Nature, so she frequently produces them in much greater quantities than the consumption of the inhabitants requires. In such a state of things, the supply commonly exceeds the demand. In different states of society, in different states of improvement, therefore, such commodities will represent, or be equivalent, to very different quantities of labour.
In every state of society, in every stage of improvement, corn is the production of human industry. But the average produce of every sort of industry is always suited, more or less exactly, to the average consumption; the average supply to the average demand. In every different stage of improvement, besides, the raising of equal quantities of corn in the same soil and climate, will, at an average, require nearly equal quantities of labour; or, what comes to the same thing, the price of nearly equal quantities; the continual increase of the productive powers of labour, in an improved state of cultivation, being more or less counterbalanced by the continual increasing price of cattle, the principal instruments of agriculture. Upon all these accounts, therefore, we may rest assured, that equal quantities of corn will, in every state of society, in every stage of improvement, more nearly represent, or be equivalent to, equal quantities of labour, than equal quantities of any other part of the rude produce of land. Corn, accordingly, it has already been observed, is, in all the different stages of wealth and improvement, a more accurate measure of value than any other commodity or set of commodities. In all those different stages, therefore, we can judge better of the real value of silver, by comparing it with corn, than by comparing it with any other commodity or set of commodities.
Corn, besides, or whatever else is the common and favourite vegetable food of the people, constitutes, in every civilized country, the principal part of the subsistence of the labourer. In consequence of the extension of agriculture, the land of every country produces a much greater quantity of vegetable than of animal food, and the labourer everywhere lives chiefly upon the wholesome food that is cheapest and most abundant. Butcher’s meat, except in the most thriving countries, or where labour is most highly rewarded, makes but an insignificant part of his subsistence; poultry makes a still smaller part of it, and game no part of it. In France, and even in Scotland, where labour is somewhat better rewarded than in France, the labouring poor seldom eat butcher’s meat, except upon holidays, and other extraordinary occasions. The money price of labour, therefore, depends much more upon the average money price of corn, the subsistence of the labourer, than upon that of butcher’s meat, or of any other part of the rude produce of land. The real value of gold and silver, therefore, the real quantity of labour which they can purchase or command, depends much more upon the quantity of corn which they can purchase or command, than upon that of butcher’s meat, or any other part of the rude produce of land.
Such slight observations, however, upon the prices either of corn or of other commodities, would not probably have misled so many intelligent authors, had they not been influenced at the same time by the popular notion, that as the quantity of silver naturally increases in every country with the increase of wealth, so its value diminishes as its quantity increases. This notion, however, seems to be altogether groundless.
The quantity of the precious metals may increase in any country from two different causes; either, first, from the increased abundance of the mines which supply it; or, secondly, from the increased wealth of the people, from the increased produce of their annual labour. The first of these causes is no doubt necessarily connected with the diminution of the value of the precious metals; but the second is not.
When more abundant mines are discovered, a greater quantity of the precious metals is brought to market; and the quantity of the necessaries and conveniencies of life for which they must be exchanged being the same as before, equal quantities of the metals must be exchanged for smaller quantities of commodities. So far, therefore, as the increase of the quantity of the precious metals in any country arises from the increased abundance of the mines, it is necessarily connected with some diminution of their value.
When, on the contrary, the wealth of any country increases, when the annual produce of its labour becomes gradually greater and greater, a greater quantity of coin becomes necessary in order to circulate a greater quantity of commodities: and the people, as they can afford it, as they have more commodities to give for it, will naturally purchase a greater and a greater quantity of plate. The quantity of their coin will increase from necessity; the quantity of their plate from vanity and ostentation, or from the same reason that the quantity of fine statues, pictures, and of every other luxury and curiosity, is likely to increase among them. But as statuaries and painters are not likely to be worse rewarded in times of wealth and prosperity, than in times of poverty and depression, so gold and silver are not likely to be worse paid for.
The price of gold and silver, when the accidental discovery of more abundant mines does not keep it down, as it naturally rises with the wealth of every country, so, whatever be the state of the mines, it is at all times naturally higher in a rich than in a poor country. Gold and silver, like all other commodities, naturally seek the market where the best price is given for them, and the best price is commonly given for every thing in the country which can best afford it. Labour, it must be remembered, is the ultimate price which is paid for every thing; and in countries where labour is equally well rewarded, the money price of labour will be in proportion to that of the subsistence of the labourer. But gold and silver will naturally exchange for a greater quantity of subsistence in a rich than in a poor country; in a country which abounds with subsistence, than in one which is but indifferently supplied with it. If the two countries are at a great distance, the difference may be very great; because, though the metals naturally fly from the worse to the better market, yet it may be difficult to transport them in such quantities as to bring their price nearly to a level in both. If the countries are near, the difference will be smaller, and may sometimes be scarce perceptible; because in this case the transportation will be easy. China is a much richer country than any part of Europe, and the difference between the price of subsistence in China and in Europe is very great. Rice in China is much cheaper than wheat is any where in Europe. England is a much richer country than Scotland, but the difference between the money price of corn in those two countries is much smaller, and is but just perceptible. In proportion to the quantity or measure, Scotch corn generally appears to be a good deal cheaper than English; but, in proportion to its quality, it is certainly somewhat dearer. Scotland receives almost every year very large supplies from England, and every commodity must commonly be somewhat dearer in the country to which it is brought than in that from which it comes. English corn, therefore, must be dearer in Scotland than in England; and yet in proportion to its quality, or to the quantity and goodness of the flour or meal which can be made from it, it cannot commonly be sold higher there than the Scotch corn which comes to market in competition with it.
The difference between the money price of labour in China and in Europe, is still greater than that between the money price of subsistence; because the real recompence of labour is higher in Europe than in China, the greater part of Europe being in an improving state, while China seems to be standing still. The money price of labour is lower in Scotland than in England, because the real recompence of labour is much lower: Scotland, though advancing to greater wealth, advances much more slowly than England. The frequency of emigration from Scotland, and the rarity of it from England, sufficiently prove that the demand for labour is very different in the two countries. The proportion between the real recompence of labour in different countries, it must be remembered, is naturally regulated, not by their actual wealth or poverty, but by their advancing, stationary, or declining condition.
Gold and silver, as they are naturally of the greatest value among the richest, so they are naturally of the least value among the poorest nations. Among savages, the poorest of all nations, they are scarce of any value.
In great towns, corn is always dearer than in remote parts of the country. This, however, is the effect, not of the real cheapness of silver, but of the real dearness of corn. It does not cost less labour to bring silver to the great town than to the remote parts of the country; but it costs a great deal more to bring corn.
English
Third, they also seem to have been misled by the extremely low prices at which wheat was sometimes sold in very early times, imagining that because its lowest price was far below that of later times, its ordinary price must also have been far lower. Yet they might have found that in those early times its highest price rose as far above anything known in later times as its lowest price fell below it. Fleetwood, for example, gives two prices for a quarter of wheat in 1270: one is four pounds sixteen shillings in the money of the time, equal to fourteen pounds eight shillings in present money; the other is six pounds eight shillings, equal to nineteen pounds four shillings in our present money. No price near such extremes can be found at the end of the fifteenth or beginning of the sixteenth century. Although the price of corn varies at all times, it varies most in turbulent and disorderly societies, where disruptions to trade and communication prevent the abundance in one part of a country from relieving the shortage in another. In England's disorderly condition under the Plantagenets, who ruled from about the middle of the twelfth century toward the end of the fifteenth, one district might have plenty while another, quite nearby, endured all the horrors of famine after its harvest was destroyed by an accident of the seasons or a neighboring baron's incursion. Yet if the lands of a hostile lord lay between the two, the first district might be unable to offer the other the least assistance. Under the vigorous administration of the Tudors, who governed England during the latter part of the fifteenth century and throughout the sixteenth, no baron was powerful enough to dare disturb public security.
At the end of this chapter, the reader will find all the wheat prices Fleetwood collected from 1202 to 1597 inclusive, converted into present-day money and arranged chronologically into seven groups of twelve years each. At the end of each group the reader will also find the average price for its twelve years. Over this long period Fleetwood could find prices for no more than eighty years, leaving four years missing from the last group of twelve. I have therefore supplied, from the accounts of Eton college, the prices for 1598, 1599, 1600, and 1601. This is my only addition. The reader will see that from the beginning of the thirteenth century until after the middle of the sixteenth, the average price in successive twelve-year groups falls steadily lower, and that toward the end of the sixteenth century it begins rising again. Indeed, the prices Fleetwood was able to collect seem chiefly to be those notable for unusual height or lowness, and I do not claim that they support any very certain conclusion. To the extent that they prove anything, however, they confirm the account I have tried to give. Fleetwood himself, nevertheless, seems to have believed, like most other writers, that silver steadily lost value throughout the period because it grew more abundant. The corn prices he himself collected certainly do not support that belief. They agree perfectly with Mr Dupré de St Maur's view and with the one I have tried to explain. Bishop Fleetwood and Mr Dupré de St Maur appear to be the two authors who collected ancient prices with the greatest care and fidelity. It is rather striking that although their opinions differ so sharply, their facts, at least concerning the price of corn, agree so precisely.
Yet the most discerning writers have inferred the great value of silver in those very early times less from the low price of corn than from low prices for other unprocessed products of the land. Corn, it has been argued, is a kind of manufactured product, and in those undeveloped ages was much dearer in proportion than most other commodities—most other unmanufactured commodities, I suppose, such as cattle, poultry, every kind of game, and so on. It is undoubtedly true that in those times of poverty and barbarism these were proportionately much cheaper than corn. But their cheapness resulted not from silver's high value but from their own low value. It was not that silver would then buy or represent a greater quantity of labor, but that these commodities would buy or represent a much smaller quantity than in times of greater prosperity and improvement. Silver must certainly be cheaper in Spanish America than in Europe: cheaper where it is produced than where it must be taken after a long journey by land and sea, with freight and insurance to pay. Yet Ulloa tells us that not many years ago an ox selected from a herd of three or four hundred cost one-and-twenty pence halfpenny sterling at Buenos Ayres. Mr Byron tells us that a good horse cost sixteen shillings sterling in the capital of Chili. In a naturally fertile country whose greater part remains entirely uncultivated, cattle, poultry, every kind of game, and so on can be obtained with very little labor, and will therefore buy or command very little labor. The low money price at which they sell proves not that silver has a very high real value there, but that those commodities have a very low one.
It must always be remembered that labor, not any particular commodity or group of commodities, is the true measure of the value both of silver and of everything else.
But in countries that are largely wilderness or sparsely populated, cattle, poultry, every kind of game, and so on are products that nature supplies of her own accord, often in quantities far beyond what the inhabitants need to consume. Under such conditions supply generally exceeds demand. At different stages of society and improvement, therefore, these commodities will represent, or be equivalent to, very different quantities of labor.
In every kind of society, at every stage of improvement, corn is the product of human industry. The average output of every industry, however, is always adapted, more or less closely, to average consumption: average supply to average demand. Moreover, at every stage of improvement, raising equal quantities of corn in the same soil and climate will require, on average, nearly equal quantities of labor, or, what amounts to the same thing, the price of nearly equal quantities of labor. This is because the steady growth of labor's productive powers under improved cultivation is more or less offset by the steadily rising price of cattle, the principal instruments of agriculture. For all these reasons we can be confident that, at every stage of society and improvement, equal quantities of corn will more closely represent, or be equivalent to, equal quantities of labor than will equal quantities of any other unprocessed product of the land. As already observed, corn is therefore a more accurate measure of value than any other commodity or group of commodities at every stage of wealth and improvement. At all those stages, consequently, we can judge silver's real value better by comparison with corn than with any other commodity or group of commodities.
Corn, moreover, or whatever vegetable food is generally preferred by the people, makes up the greater part of a laborer's subsistence in every civilized country. As agriculture expands, every country's land produces far more vegetable than animal food, and the laborer everywhere lives chiefly on the wholesome food that is cheapest and most abundant. Except in the most prosperous countries, or where labor receives the highest rewards, butcher's meat forms only a negligible part of the laborer's diet; poultry forms an even smaller part, and game none. In France, and even in Scotland, where labor is rewarded somewhat better than in France, the working poor rarely eat butcher's meat except on holidays or other extraordinary occasions. The money price of labor therefore depends much more on the average money price of corn, the laborer's subsistence, than on the price of butcher's meat or any other unprocessed product of the land. Consequently, the real value of gold and silver—the real amount of labor they can buy or command—depends much more on the amount of corn they can buy or command than on the amount of butcher's meat or any other unprocessed product of the land.
Such cursory observations of the prices of corn or other commodities would probably not have misled so many intelligent authors, however, if they had not also been influenced by the popular belief that as a country's wealth increases, its quantity of silver naturally increases and its value therefore falls. This belief, however, seems wholly without foundation.
A country's quantity of precious metals may increase for two different reasons: first, because the mines supplying it become more abundant; or second, because its people become wealthier as the annual product of their labor grows. The first cause is undoubtedly and necessarily associated with a decline in the value of the precious metals; the second is not.
When richer mines are discovered, more precious metal comes to market. Since the amount of life's necessities and conveniences for which the metals can be exchanged remains as before, equal amounts of metal must exchange for smaller quantities of goods. Thus, insofar as a country's increased supply of precious metals results from more productive mines, it is necessarily associated with some reduction in their value.
When, on the contrary, a country grows wealthier and the annual product of its labor gradually increases, it needs more coin to circulate more commodities. Its people, being able to afford it and having more commodities to offer in exchange, will naturally buy more and more silverware. Their quantity of coin will grow from necessity; their quantity of silverware from vanity and ostentation, or from the same cause that is likely to increase the number of fine statues, paintings, and every other luxury and curiosity among them. But just as sculptors and painters are unlikely to be paid less in times of wealth and prosperity than in times of poverty and hardship, so gold and silver are unlikely to command a lower price.
Unless an accidental discovery of richer mines holds down the price of gold and silver, it naturally rises as a country grows wealthier; and whatever the state of the mines, that price is naturally higher at all times in a rich country than in a poor one. Gold and silver, like every other commodity, naturally seek the market that pays the best price, and the best price for anything is generally paid by the country best able to afford it. We must remember that labor is the ultimate price paid for everything; and where labor is rewarded equally well in two countries, its money price will be proportional to the price of the laborer's subsistence. But gold and silver will naturally exchange for a greater quantity of subsistence in a rich country than in a poor one, where subsistence is plentiful rather than only moderately supplied. If the countries are far apart, the difference may be very large: although the metals naturally flow from the worse market to the better, transporting enough of them to bring their prices nearly level in the two may be difficult. If the countries are close, the difference will be smaller and may at times be barely noticeable, because transport is easy. China is much wealthier than any part of Europe, and the difference between the price of subsistence in China and in Europe is very great. Rice is much cheaper in China than wheat is anywhere in Europe. England is much wealthier than Scotland, but the difference in the money price of corn between the two is much smaller, scarcely noticeable. By quantity or measure Scottish corn generally seems considerably cheaper than English corn; by quality, however, it is certainly somewhat dearer. Scotland receives very large supplies from England almost every year, and a commodity must ordinarily cost somewhat more in the country to which it is brought than in the country from which it comes. English corn must therefore be dearer in Scotland than in England; and yet in proportion to its quality—that is, to the quantity and quality of flour or meal it yields—it generally cannot sell there for more than the Scottish corn with which it competes in the market.
The difference in the money price of labor between China and Europe is even greater than the difference in the money price of subsistence. This is because labor's real reward is higher in Europe than in China: most of Europe is improving, while China appears to be standing still. The money price of labor is lower in Scotland than in England because its real reward is much lower. Although Scotland is growing wealthier, it does so much more slowly than England. Frequent emigration from Scotland, and its rarity in England, sufficiently demonstrate the difference in the demand for labor in the two countries. We must remember that the relative real rewards of labor in different countries are naturally determined not by their existing wealth or poverty but by whether their condition is improving, stationary, or declining.
Just as gold and silver naturally have their greatest value among the richest nations, they naturally have their least value among the poorest. Among peoples living in the most primitive conditions, the poorest of all nations, they have hardly any value.
Corn always costs more in large towns than in remote parts of the countryside. This, however, results not from silver's real cheapness but from corn's real dearness. It takes no less labor to bring silver to a large town than to a remote rural district, but it takes a great deal more to bring corn there.
Book I, Chapter XI, 8
18th-century English
In some very rich and commercial countries, such as Holland and the territory of Genoa, corn is dear for the same reason that it is dear in great towns. They do not produce enough to maintain their inhabitants. They are rich in the industry and skill of their artificers and manufacturers, in every sort of machinery which can facilitate and abridge labour; in shipping, and in all the other instruments and means of carriage and commerce: but they are poor in corn, which, as it must be brought to them from distant countries, must, by an addition to its price, pay for the carriage from those countries. It does not cost less labour to bring silver to Amsterdam than to Dantzic; but it costs a great deal more to bring corn. The real cost of silver must be nearly the same in both places; but that of corn must be very different. Diminish the real opulence either of Holland or of the territory of Genoa, while the number of their inhabitants remains the same; diminish their power of supplying themselves from distant countries; and the price of corn, instead of sinking with that diminution in the quantity of their silver, which must necessarily accompany this declension, either as its cause or as its effect, will rise to the price of a famine. When we are in want of necessaries, we must part with all superfluities, of which the value, as it rises in times of opulence and prosperity, so it sinks in times of poverty and distress. It is otherwise with necessaries. Their real price, the quantity of labour which they can purchase or command, rises in times of poverty and distress, and sinks in times of opulence and prosperity, which are always times of great abundance; for they could not otherwise be times of opulence and prosperity. Corn is a necessary, silver is only a superfluity.
Whatever, therefore, may have been the increase in the quantity of the precious metals, which, during the period between the middle of the fourteenth and that of the sixteenth century, arose from the increase of wealth and improvement, it could have no tendency to diminish their value, either in Great Britain, or in my other part of Europe. If those who have collected the prices of things in ancient times, therefore, had, during this period, no reason to infer the diminution of the value of silver from any observations which they had made upon the prices either of corn, or of other commodities, they had still less reason to infer it from any supposed increase of wealth and improvement.
Second Period.—But how various soever may have been the opinions of the learned concerning the progress of the value of silver during the first period, they are unanimous concerning it during the second.
From about 1570 to about 1640, during a period of about seventy years, the variation in the proportion between the value of silver and that of corn held a quite opposite course. Silver sunk in its real value, or would exchange for a smaller quantity of labour than before; and corn rose in its nominal price, and, instead of being commonly sold for about two ounces of silver the quarter, or about ten shillings of our present money, came to be sold for six and eight ounces of silver the quarter, or about thirty and forty shillings of our present money.
The discovery of the abundant mines of America seems to have been the sole cause of this diminution in the value of silver, in proportion to that of corn. It is accounted for, accordingly, in the same manner by every body; and there never has been any dispute, either about the fact, or about the cause of it. The greater part of Europe was, during this period, advancing in industry and improvement, and the demand for silver must consequently have been increasing; but the increase of the supply had, it seems, so far exceeded that of the demand, that the value of that metal sunk considerably. The discovery of the mines of America, it is to be observed, does not seem to have had any very sensible effect upon the prices of things in England till after 1570; though even the mines of Potosi had been discovered more than twenty years before.
From 1595 to 1620, both inclusive, the average price of the quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat, at Windsor market, appears, from the accounts of Eton college, to have been £ 2:1:6 ⁹⁄₁₃. From which sum, neglecting the fraction, and deducting a ninth, or 4s. 7 ⅓d., the price of the quarter of eight bushels comes out to have been £ 1:16:10 ⅔. And from this sum, neglecting likewise the fraction, and deducting a ninth, or 4s. 1 ⅑d., for the difference between the price of the best wheat and that of the middle wheat, the price of the middle wheat comes out to have been about £ 1:12:8 ⁸⁄₉, or about six ounces and one-third of an ounce of silver.
From 1621 to 1636, both inclusive, the average price of the same measure of the best wheat, at the same market, appears, from the same accounts, to have been £ 2:10s.; from which, making the like deductions as in the foregoing case, the average price of the quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat comes out to have been £ 1:19:6, or about seven ounces and two-thirds of an ounce of silver.
Third Period.—Between 1630 and 1640, or about 1636, the effect of the discovery of the mines of America, in reducing the value of silver, appears to have been completed, and the value of that metal seems never to have sunk lower in proportion to that of corn than it was about that time. It seems to have risen somewhat in the course of the present century, and it had probably begun to do so, even some time before the end of the last.
From 1637 to 1700, both inclusive, being the sixty-four last years of the last century the average price of the quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat, at Windsor market, appears, from the same accounts, to have been £ 2:11:0 ⅓, which is only 1s. 0 ⅓d. dearer than it had been during the sixteen years before. But, in the course of these sixty-four years, there happened two events, which must have produced a much greater scarcity of corn than what the course of the seasons would otherwise have occasioned, and which, therefore, without supposing any further reduction in the value of silver, will much more than account for this very small enhancement of price.
The first of these events was the civil war, which, by discouraging tillage and interrupting commerce, must have raised the price of corn much above what the course of the seasons would otherwise have occasioned. It must have had this effect, more or less, at all the different markets in the kingdom, but particularly at those in the neighbourhood of London, which require to be supplied from the greatest distance. In 1648, accordingly, the price of the best wheat, at Windsor market, appears, from the same accounts, to have been £ 4:5s., and, in 1649, to have been £ 4, the quarter of nine bushels. The excess of those two years above £ 2:10s. (the average price of the sixteen years preceding 1637) is £ 3:5s., which, divided among the sixty four last years of the last century, will alone very nearly account for that small enhancement of price which seems to have taken place in them. These, however, though the highest, are by no means the only high prices which seem to have been occasioned by the civil wars.
The second event was the bounty upon the exportation of corn, granted in 1688. The bounty, it has been thought by many people, by encouraging tillage, may, in a long course of years, have occasioned a greater abundance, and, consequently, a greater cheapness of corn in the home market, than what would otherwise have taken place there. How far the bounty could produce this effect at any time I shall examine hereafter: I shall only observe at present, that between 1688 and 1700, it had not time to produce any such effect. During this short period, its only effect must have been, by encouraging the exportation of the surplus produce of every year, and thereby hindering the abundance of one year from compensating the scarcity of another, to raise the price in the home market. The scarcity which prevailed in England, from 1693 to 1699, both inclusive, though no doubt principally owing to the badness of the seasons, and, therefore, extending through a considerable part of Europe, must have been somewhat enhanced by the bounty. In 1699, accordingly, the further exportation of corn was prohibited for nine months.
There was a third event which occurred in the course of the same period, and which, though it could not occasion any scarcity of corn, nor, perhaps, any augmentation in the real quantity of silver which was usually paid for it, must necessarily have occasioned some augmentation in the nominal sum. This event was the great debasement of the silver coin, by clipping and wearing. This evil had begun in the reign of Charles II. and had gone on continually increasing till 1695; at which time, as we may learn from Mr Lowndes, the current silver coin was, at an average, near five-and-twenty per cent. below its standard value. But the nominal sum which constitutes the market price of every commodity is necessarily regulated, not so much by the quantity of silver, which, according to the standard, ought to be contained in it, as by that which, it is found by experience, actually is contained in it. This nominal sum, therefore, is necessarily higher when the coin is much debased by clipping and wearing, than when near to its standard value.
In the course of the present century, the silver coin has not at any time been more below its standard weight than it is at present. But though very much defaced, its value has been kept up by that of the gold coin, for which it is exchanged. For though, before the late recoinage, the gold coin was a good deal defaced too, it was less so than the silver. In 1695, on the contrary, the value of the silver coin was not kept up by the gold coin; a guinea then commonly exchanging for thirty shillings of the worn and clipt silver. Before the late recoinage of the gold, the price of silver bullion was seldom higher than five shillings and sevenpence an ounce, which is but fivepence above the mint price. But in 1695, the common price of silver bullion was six shillings and fivepence an ounce, {Lowndes’s Essay on the Silver Coin, 68.} which is fifteen pence above the mint price. Even before the late recoinage of the gold, therefore, the coin, gold and silver together, when compared with silver bullion, was not supposed to be more than eight per cent. below its standard value, In 1695, on the contrary, it had been supposed to be near five-and-twenty per cent. below that value. But in the beginning of the present century, that is, immediately after the great recoinage in King William’s time, the greater part of the current silver coin must have been still nearer to its standard weight than it is at present. In the course of the present century, too, there has been no great public calamity, such as a civil war, which could either discourage tillage, or interrupt the interior commerce of the country. And though the bounty which has taken place through the greater part of this century, must always raise the price of corn somewhat higher than it otherwise would be in the actual state of tillage; yet, as in the course of this century, the bounty has had full time to produce all the good effects commonly imputed to it to encourage tillage, and thereby to increase the quantity of corn in the home market, it may, upon the principles of a system which I shall explain and examine hereafter, be supposed to have done something to lower the price of that commodity the one way, as well as to raise it the other. It is by many people supposed to have done more. In the sixty-four years of the present century, accordingly, the average price of the quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat, at Windsor market, appears, by the accounts of Eton college, to have been £ 2:0:6 ¹⁰⁄₃₂, which is about ten shillings and sixpence, or more than five-and-twenty percent. cheaper than it had been during the sixty-four last years of the last century; and about nine shillings and sixpence cheaper than it had been during the sixteen years preceding 1636, when the discovery of the abundant mines of America may be supposed to have produced its full effect; and about one shilling cheaper than it had been in the twenty-six years preceding 1620, before that discovery can well be supposed to have produced its full effect. According to this account, the average price of middle wheat, during these sixty-four first years of the present century, comes out to have been about thirty-two shillings the quarter of eight bushels.
The value of silver, therefore, seems to have risen somewhat in proportion to that of corn during the course of the present century, and it had probably begun to do so even some time before the end of the last.
In 1687, the price of the quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat, at Windsor market, was £ 1:5:2, the lowest price at which it had ever been from 1595.
In 1688, Mr Gregory King, a man famous for his knowledge in matters of this kind, estimated the average price of wheat, in years of moderate plenty, to be to the grower 3s. 6d. the bushel, or eight-and-twenty shillings the quarter. The grower’s price I understand to be the same with what is sometimes called the contract price, or the price at which a farmer contracts for a certain number of years to deliver a certain quantity of corn to a dealer. As a contract of this kind saves the farmer the expense and trouble of marketing, the contract price is generally lower than what is supposed to be the average market price. Mr King had judged eight-and-twenty shillings the quarter to be at that time the ordinary contract price in years of moderate plenty. Before the scarcity occasioned by the late extraordinary course of bad seasons, it was, I have been assured, the ordinary contract price in all common years.
In 1688 was granted the parliamentary bounty upon the exportation of corn. The country gentlemen, who then composed a still greater proportion of the legislature than they do at present, had felt that the money price of corn was falling. The bounty was an expedient to raise it artificially to the high price at which it had frequently been sold in the times of Charles I. and II. It was to take place, therefore, till wheat was so high as fortyeight shillings the quarter; that is, twenty shillings, or 5-7ths dearer than Mr King had, in that very year, estimated the grower’s price to be in times of moderate plenty. If his calculations deserve any part of the reputation which they have obtained very universally, eight-and-forty shillings the quarter was a price which, without some such expedient as the bounty, could not at that time be expected, except in years of extraordinary scarcity. But the government of King William was not then fully settled. It was in no condition to refuse anything to the country gentlemen, from whom it was, at that very time, soliciting the first establishment of the annual land-tax.
The value of silver, therefore, in proportion to that of corn, had probably risen somewhat before the end of the last century; and it seems to have continued to do so during the course of the greater part of the present, though the necessary operation of the bounty must have hindered that rise from being so sensible as it otherwise would have been in the actual state of tillage.
In plentiful years, the bounty, by occasioning an extraordinary exportation, necessarily raises the price of corn above what it otherwise would be in those years. To encourage tillage, by keeping up the price of corn, even in the most plentiful years, was the avowed end of the institution.
English
In certain wealthy commercial countries, such as Holland and the territory of Genoa, corn is expensive for the same reason it is expensive in great cities: they do not grow enough to feed their inhabitants. They are rich in the industry and skill of their artisans and manufacturers, in every kind of machinery that can ease and shorten labor, in shipping, and in all the other instruments of transport and commerce. But they are poor in corn, which must be brought from distant countries and must therefore bear the additional cost of that transport in its price. It takes no less labor to bring silver to Amsterdam than to Dantzic; but it takes much more to bring corn there. The real cost of silver must be nearly the same in both places, while that of corn must be very different. Reduce the real wealth of Holland or the territory of Genoa while its population stays the same; reduce its ability to obtain supplies from distant countries; and the price of corn, rather than falling with the decline in its quantity of silver that must accompany this loss of wealth, whether as cause or effect, will rise to famine levels. When necessities are scarce, we must surrender every luxury, whose value rises in prosperity and falls in poverty and distress. Necessities behave otherwise. Their real price—the quantity of labor they can purchase or command—rises in poverty and distress and falls in wealth and prosperity, which are always times of abundance; otherwise they could not be times of wealth and prosperity. Corn is a necessity; silver is only a luxury.
Whatever increase in the quantity of precious metals arose from increasing wealth and improvement between the middle of the fourteenth and the middle of the sixteenth century, it could not tend to lower their value in Great Britain or any other part of Europe. If collectors of ancient prices had no grounds during this period to infer a decline in the value of silver from the prices they observed for corn or other commodities, they had still less grounds to infer one from a supposed increase in wealth and improvement.
Second Period.—However widely scholars may differ about the course of silver's value in the first period, they agree about its course in the second.
From about 1570 to about 1640, a span of about seventy years, the relation between the value of silver and that of corn moved in precisely the opposite direction. Silver fell in real value and would purchase less labor than before; corn rose in nominal price. Instead of commonly selling for about two ounces of silver per quarter, or about ten shillings of our present money, corn came to sell for six and eight ounces of silver per quarter, or about thirty and forty shillings of our present money.
The discovery of America's abundant mines seems to have been the sole cause of this fall in silver's value relative to corn. Everyone explains it in this way; neither the fact nor its cause has ever been disputed. Most of Europe was advancing in industry and improvement during this period, and its demand for silver must therefore have grown. Yet the supply seems to have increased so much more than the demand that the metal's value fell considerably. It is worth noting that the discovery of the American mines seems to have had no appreciable effect on English prices until after 1570, though even the mines of Potosi had been discovered more than twenty years earlier.
From 1595 to 1620, both inclusive, the accounts of Eton college put the average price at Windsor market for a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat at £ 2:1:6 ⁹⁄₁₃. Omitting the fraction and subtracting a ninth, or 4s. 7 ⅓d., gives £ 1:16:10 ⅔ for a quarter of eight bushels. Omitting that fraction as well and subtracting a ninth, or 4s. 1 ⅑d., to allow for the difference between the best and middle wheat, gives about £ 1:12:8 ⁸⁄₉ for middle wheat, or about six ounces and one-third of an ounce of silver.
From 1621 to 1636, both inclusive, the same accounts put the average price of the same measure of the best wheat at the same market at £ 2:10s. Applying the same deductions as before gives £ 1:19:6, or about seven ounces and two-thirds of an ounce of silver, as the average price of a quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat.
Third Period.—Between 1630 and 1640, or about 1636, the discovery of the American mines appears to have completed its effect in lowering the value of silver. Relative to corn, that metal's value seems never to have fallen below its level at that time. It seems to have risen somewhat during the present century, and probably began to do so some time before the last century ended.
From 1637 to 1700, both inclusive—the final sixty-four years of the last century—the same accounts put the average Windsor market price of a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat at £ 2:11:0 ⅓, only 1s. 0 ⅓d. above its price during the preceding sixteen years. Yet during these sixty-four years two events occurred that must have produced far greater scarcity of corn than the seasons alone would have caused. Even without supposing any further fall in silver's value, they more than explain this very slight rise in price.
The first event was the civil war. By discouraging cultivation and disrupting commerce, it must have driven corn prices far above what the seasons alone would have caused. Its effects must have been felt to some extent in every market in the kingdom, but especially around London, whose markets must draw supplies from the greatest distances. The same accounts accordingly show that at Windsor market the best wheat cost £ 4:5s. per quarter of nine bushels in 1648 and £ 4 in 1649. Together those two years exceed £ 2:10s. (the average price of the sixteen years preceding 1637) by £ 3:5s. Spread over the final sixty four years of the last century, this excess alone very nearly explains the slight rise in their average price. These two prices, though the highest, were by no means the only high ones apparently caused by the civil wars.
The second event was the bounty on the export of corn granted in 1688. Many have thought that, by encouraging cultivation over many years, the bounty might have made corn more abundant and therefore cheaper in the domestic market than it would otherwise have been. I shall examine later how far it could ever have had this effect. For now I observe only that between 1688 and 1700 it had no time to do so. In that short interval its only effect must have been to encourage exports of each year's surplus, preventing one year's abundance from making up for another year's scarcity, and thus to raise domestic prices. The scarcity that prevailed in England from 1693 to 1699, both inclusive, was doubtless chiefly due to bad seasons, and extended over a considerable part of Europe; but the bounty must have worsened it somewhat. Accordingly, in 1699 further exports of corn were prohibited for nine months.
A third event occurred in the same period. Though it could not have made corn scarcer, nor perhaps increased the real quantity of silver commonly paid for it, it must have increased the nominal sum. This was the great debasement of silver coin through clipping and wear. The evil began under Charles II. and steadily grew until 1695, when, as Mr Lowndes tells us, silver coins in circulation averaged nearly five-and-twenty per cent. below their standard value. The nominal sum making up a commodity's market price is governed less by the amount of silver a coin ought to contain under the standard than by the amount experience shows it actually contains. Thus the nominal sum must be higher when coin is badly debased by clipping and wear than when it approaches its standard value.
During the present century, silver coin has never fallen farther below its standard weight than it has now. Though badly worn, however, its value has been sustained by the gold coin for which it can be exchanged. Even before the recent recoinage, gold coin, though considerably worn itself, was less worn than silver. In 1695, by contrast, gold coin did not sustain silver's value: a guinea commonly exchanged for thirty shillings in worn and clipped silver. Before the recent recoinage of gold, silver bullion rarely cost more than five shillings and sevenpence an ounce, only fivepence above the mint price. In 1695, however, silver bullion commonly cost six shillings and fivepence an ounce, [Lowndes’s Essay on the Silver Coin, 68.] fifteen pence above the mint price. Thus even before gold's recent recoinage, gold and silver coin together, measured against silver bullion, was not thought to be more than eight per cent. below its standard value; in 1695 it was thought to be nearly five-and-twenty per cent. below. At the beginning of the present century, however, immediately after the great recoinage under King William, most silver coins in circulation must have been closer to their standard weight than they are now. Nor has the present century seen a great public calamity, such as a civil war, that could discourage cultivation or disrupt the country's internal commerce. The bounty in force for most of this century must always raise corn prices somewhat above what they would be under the existing state of cultivation. Yet during this century it has also had ample time to produce all the benefits commonly attributed to it: to encourage cultivation and so increase the supply of corn in the domestic market. On the principles of a system I shall explain and examine later, it might therefore be thought to have lowered prices in one way while raising them in another. Many suppose that it has done more than this. The accounts of Eton college accordingly put the average Windsor market price of a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat over the sixty-four years of the present century at £ 2:0:6 ¹⁰⁄₃₂. This is about ten shillings and sixpence, or more than five-and-twenty percent. cheaper than over the last sixty-four years of the preceding century; about nine shillings and sixpence cheaper than over the sixteen years preceding 1636, when the rich American mines may be supposed to have had their full effect; and about one shilling cheaper than over the twenty-six years preceding 1620, before that discovery could reasonably be supposed to have had its full effect. On this reckoning, middle wheat averaged about thirty-two shillings per quarter of eight bushels during the first sixty-four years of the present century.
Silver's value relative to corn thus seems to have risen somewhat in the present century, and probably began rising some time before the end of the last.
In 1687, a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat cost £ 1:5:2 at Windsor market, its lowest price since 1595.
In 1688, Mr Gregory King, renowned for his knowledge of such matters, estimated that in moderately abundant years the grower received on average 3s. 6d. per bushel of wheat, or eight-and-twenty shillings per quarter. I take the grower's price to mean what is sometimes called the contract price: the price at which a farmer agrees to deliver a set quantity of corn to a dealer over a number of years. Because such a contract saves the farmer the cost and trouble of marketing, its price is generally below the estimated average market price. Mr King considered eight-and-twenty shillings per quarter the ordinary contract price then, in years of moderate plenty. I have been assured that before the scarcity caused by the recent extraordinary run of bad seasons, it was the ordinary contract price in all ordinary years.
In 1688, Parliament granted the bounty on corn exports. The country gentlemen, who then made up an even greater share of the legislature than they do now, had noticed that the money price of corn was falling. The bounty was a device for artificially restoring it to the high prices it had often fetched under Charles I. and II. It was therefore to operate until wheat reached fortyeight shillings per quarter—that is, twenty shillings, or 5-7ths, more than Mr King estimated the grower's price to be in moderately abundant years of that very year. If his calculations merit any share of their widespread reputation, eight-and-forty shillings per quarter was a price not to be expected then, without such a device as the bounty, except in years of extraordinary scarcity. But King William's government was not yet fully established. It could hardly refuse anything to the country gentlemen, from whom it was then seeking the first establishment of the annual land-tax.
Silver's value relative to corn had therefore probably risen somewhat before the last century ended and seems to have continued rising through most of the present one, although the bounty's inevitable operation must have made that rise less noticeable than it would otherwise have been under the existing state of cultivation.
In plentiful years, the bounty necessarily raises corn prices above what they would otherwise be by prompting extraordinary exports. The stated purpose of its establishment was to encourage cultivation by maintaining the price of corn even in the most plentiful years.
Book I, Chapter XI, 9
18th-century English
In years of great scarcity, indeed, the bounty has generally been suspended. It must, however, have had some effect upon the prices of many of those years. By the extraordinary exportation which it occasions in years of plenty, it must frequently hinder the plenty of one year from compensating the scarcity of another.
Both in years of plenty and in years of scarcity, therefore, the bounty raises the price of corn above what it naturally would be in the actual state of tillage. If during the sixty-four first years of the present century, therefore, the average price has been lower than during the sixty-four last years of the last century, it must, in the same state of tillage, have been much more so, had it not been for this operation of the bounty.
But, without the bounty, it may be said the state of tillage would not have been the same. What may have been the effects of this institution upon the agriculture of the country, I shall endeavour to explain hereafter, when I come to treat particularly of bounties. I shall only observe at present, that this rise in the value of silver, in proportion to that of corn, has not been peculiar to England. It has been observed to have taken place in France during the same period, and nearly in the same proportion, too, by three very faithful, diligent, and laborious collectors of the prices of corn, Mr Dupré de St Maur, Mr Messance, and the author of the Essay on the Police of Grain. But in France, till 1764, the exportation of grain was by law prohibited; and it is somewhat difficult to suppose, that nearly the same diminution of price which took place in one country, notwithstanding this prohibition, should, in another, be owing to the extraordinary encouragement given to exportation.
It would be more proper, perhaps, to consider this variation in the average money price of corn as the effect rather of some gradual rise in the real value of silver in the European market, than of any fall in the real average value of corn. Corn, it has already been observed, is, at distant periods of time, a more accurate measure of value than either silver or, perhaps, any other commodity. When, after the discovery of the abundant mines of America, corn rose to three and four times its former money price, this change was universally ascribed, not to any rise in the real value of corn, but to a fall in the real value of silver. If, during the sixty-four first years of the present century, therefore, the average money price of corn has fallen somewhat below what it had been during the greater part of the last century, we should, in the same manner, impute this change, not to any fall in the real value of corn, but to some rise in the real value of silver in the European market.
The high price of corn during these ten or twelve years past, indeed, has occasioned a suspicion that the real value of silver still continues to fall in the European market. This high price of corn, however, seems evidently to have been the effect of the extraordinary unfavourableness of the seasons, and ought, therefore, to be regarded, not as a permanent, but as a transitory and occasional event. The seasons, for these ten or twelve years past, have been unfavourable through the greater part of Europe; and the disorders of Poland have very much increased the scarcity in all those countries, which, in dear years, used to be supplied from that market. So long a course of bad seasons, though not a very common event, is by no means a singular one; and whoever has inquired much into the history of the prices of corn in former times, will be at no loss to recollect several other examples of the same kind. Ten years of extraordinary scarcity, besides, are not more wonderful than ten years of extraordinary plenty. The low price of corn, from 1741 to 1750, both inclusive, may very well be set in opposition to its high price during these last eight or ten years. From 1741 to 1750, the average price of the quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat, at Windsor market, it appears from the accounts of Eton college, was only £ 1:13:9 ⅘, which is nearly 6s.3d. below the average price of the sixty-four first years of the present century. The average price of the quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat comes out, according to this account, to have been, during these ten years, only £ 1:6:8.
Between 1741 and 1750, however, the bounty must have hindered the price of corn from falling so low in the home market as it naturally would have done. During these ten years, the quantity of all sorts of grain exported, it appears from the custom-house books, amounted to no less than 8,029,156 quarters, one bushel. The bounty paid for this amounted to £ 1,514,962:17:4 ½. In 1749, accordingly, Mr Pelham, at that time prime minister, observed to the house of commons, that, for the three years preceding, a very extraordinary sum had been paid as bounty for the exportation of corn. He had good reason to make this observation, and in the following year he might have had still better. In that single year, the bounty paid amounted to no less than £ 324,176:10:6. {See Tracts on the Corn Trade, Tract 3,} It is unnecessary to observe how much this forced exportation must have raised the price of corn above what it otherwise would have been in the home market.
At the end of the accounts annexed to this chapter the reader will find the particular account of those ten years separated from the rest. He will find there, too, the particular account of the preceding ten years, of which the average is likewise below, though not so much below, the general average of the sixty-four first years of the century. The year 1740, however, was a year of extraordinary scarcity. These twenty years preceding 1750 may very well be set in opposition to the twenty preceding 1770. As the former were a good deal below the general average of the century, notwithstanding the intervention of one or two dear years; so the latter have been a good deal above it, notwithstanding the intervention of one or two cheap ones, of 1759, for example. If the former have not been as much below the general average as the latter have been above it, we ought probably to impute it to the bounty. The change has evidently been too sudden to be ascribed to any change in the value of silver, which is always slow and gradual. The suddenness of the effect can be accounted for only by a cause which can operate suddenly, the accidental variations of the seasons.
The money price of labour in Great Britain has, indeed, risen during the course of the present century. This, however, seems to be the effect, not so much of any diminution in the value of silver in the European market, as of an increase in the demand for labour in Great Britain, arising from the great, and almost universal prosperity of the country. In France, a country not altogether so prosperous, the money price of labour has, since the middle of the last century, been observed to sink gradually with the average money price of corn. Both in the last century and in the present, the day wages of common labour are there said to have been pretty uniformly about the twentieth part of the average price of the septier of wheat; a measure which contains a little more than four Winchester bushels. In Great Britain, the real recompence of labour, it has already been shewn, the real quantities of the necessaries and conveniencies of life which are given to the labourer, has increased considerably during the course of the present century. The rise in its money price seems to have been the effect, not of any diminution of the value of silver in the general market of Europe, but of a rise in the real price of labour, in the particular market of Great Britain, owing to the peculiarly happy circumstances of the country.
For some time after the first discovery of America, silver would continue to sell at its former, or not much below its former price. The profits of mining would for some time be very great, and much above their natural rate. Those who imported that metal into Europe, however, would soon find that the whole annual importation could not be disposed of at this high price. Silver would gradually exchange for a smaller and a smaller quantity of goods. Its price would sink gradually lower and lower, till it fell to its natural price; or to what was just sufficient to pay, according to their natural rates, the wages of the labour, the profits of the stock, and the rent of the land, which must be paid in order to bring it from the mine to the market. In the greater part of the silver mines of Peru, the tax of the king of Spain, amounting to a tenth of the gross produce, eats up, it has already been observed, the whole rent of the land. This tax was originally a half; it soon afterwards fell to a third, then to a fifth, and at last to a tenth, at which late it still continues. In the greater part of the silver mines of Peru, this, it seems, is all that remains, after replacing the stock of the undertaker of the work, together with its ordinary profits; and it seems to be universally acknowledged that these profits, which were once very high, are now as low as they can well be, consistently with carrying on the works.
The tax of the king of Spain was reduced to a fifth of the registered silver in 1504 {Solorzano, vol, ii.}, one-and-forty years before 1545, the date of the discovery of the mines of Potosi. In the course of ninety years, or before 1636, these mines, the most fertile in all America, had time sufficient to produce their full effect, or to reduce the value of silver in the European market as low as it could well fall, while it continued to pay this tax to the king of Spain. Ninety years is time sufficient to reduce any commodity, of which there is no monopoly, to its natural price, or to the lowest price at which, while it pays a particular tax, it can continue to be sold for any considerable time together.
The price of silver in the European market might, perhaps, have fallen still lower, and it might have become necessary either to reduce the tax upon it, not only to one-tenth, as in 1736, but to one twentieth, in the same manner as that upon gold, or to give up working the greater part of the American mines which are now wrought. The gradual increase of the demand for silver, or the gradual enlargement of the market for the produce of the silver mines of America, is probably the cause which has prevented this from happening, and which has not only kept up the value of silver in the European market, but has perhaps even raised it somewhat higher than it was about the middle of the last century.
Since the first discovery of America, the market for the produce of its silver mines has been growing gradually more and more extensive.
First, the market of Europe has become gradually more and more extensive. Since the discovery of America, the greater part of Europe has been much improved. England, Holland, France, and Germany; even Sweden, Denmark, and Russia, have all advanced considerably, both in agriculture and in manufactures. Italy seems not to have gone backwards. The fall of Italy preceded the conquest of Peru. Since that time it seems rather to have recovered a little. Spain and Portugal, indeed, are supposed to have gone backwards. Portugal, however, is but a very small part of Europe, and the declension of Spain is not, perhaps, so great as is commonly imagined. In the beginning of the sixteenth century, Spain was a very poor country, even in comparison with France, which has been so much improved since that time. It was the well known remark of the emperor Charles V. who had travelled so frequently through both countries, that every thing abounded in France, but that every thing was wanting in Spain. The increasing produce of the agriculture and manufactures of Europe must necessarily have required a gradual increase in the quantity of silver coin to circulate it; and the increasing number of wealthy individuals must have required the like increase in the quantity of their plate and other ornaments of silver.
Secondly, America is itself a new market, for the produce of its own silver mines; and as its advances in agriculture, industry, and population, are much more rapid than those of the most thriving countries in Europe, its demand must increase much more rapidly. The English colonies are altogether a new market, which, partly for coin, and partly for plate, requires a continual augmenting supply of silver through a great continent where there never was any demand before. The greater part, too, of the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, are altogether new markets. New Granada, the Yucatan, Paraguay, and the Brazils, were, before discovered by the Europeans, inhabited by savage nations, who had neither arts nor agriculture. A considerable degree of both has now been introduced into all of them. Even Mexico and Peru, though they cannot be considered as altogether new markets, are certainly much more extensive ones than they ever were before. After all the wonderful tales which have been published concerning the splendid state of those countries in ancient times, whoever reads, with any degree of sober judgment, the history of their first discovery and conquest, will evidently discern that, in arts, agriculture, and commerce, their inhabitants were much more ignorant than the Tartars of the Ukraine are at present. Even the Peruvians, the more civilized nation of the two, though they made use of gold and silver as ornaments, had no coined money of any kind. Their whole commerce was carried on by barter, and there was accordingly scarce any division of labour among them. Those who cultivated the ground, were obliged to build their own houses, to make their own household furniture, their own clothes, shoes, and instruments of agriculture. The few artificers among them are said to have been all maintained by the sovereign, the nobles, and the priests, and were probably their servants or slaves. All the ancient arts of Mexico and Peru have never furnished one single manufacture to Europe. The Spanish armies, though they scarce ever exceeded five hundred men, and frequently did not amount to half that number, found almost everywhere great difficulty in procuring subsistence. The famines which they are said to have occasioned almost wherever they went, in countries, too, which at the same time are represented as very populous and well cultivated, sufficiently demonstrate that the story of this populousness and high cultivation is in a great measure fabulous. The Spanish colonies are under a government in many respects less favourable to agriculture, improvement, and population, than that of the English colonies. They seem, however, to be advancing in all those much more rapidly than any country in Europe. In a fertile soil and happy climate, the great abundance and cheapness of land, a circumstance common to all new colonies, is, it seems, so great an advantage, as to compensate many defects in civil government. Frezier, who visited Peru in 1713, represents Lima as containing between twenty-five and twenty-eight thousand inhabitants. Ulloa, who resided in the same country between 1740 and 1746, represents it as containing more than fifty thousand. The difference in their accounts of the populousness of several other principal towns of Chili and Peru is nearly the same; and as there seems to be no reason to doubt of the good information of either, it marks an increase which is scarce inferior to that of the English colonies. America, therefore, is a new market for the produce of its own silver mines, of which the demand must increase much more rapidly than that of the most thriving country in Europe.
English
In years of severe scarcity, admittedly, the bounty has generally been suspended. It must nevertheless have affected prices in many such years. By inducing exceptional exports during years of plenty, it must often prevent one year's abundance from offsetting the next year's scarcity.
Thus in years of plenty as well as scarcity, the bounty raises the price of corn above its natural level under the existing state of cultivation. If, then, the average price during the first sixty-four years of the present century was lower than during the last sixty-four years of the preceding one, it must, with cultivation unchanged, have been much lower still without the bounty.
It may be argued, however, that without the bounty cultivation would not have remained unchanged. When I treat bounties in particular, I shall try to explain what effects this institution may have had on the country's agriculture. For now I observe only that the rise in silver's value relative to corn was not peculiar to England. Three faithful, diligent, and painstaking collectors of corn prices—Mr Dupré de St Maur, Mr Messance, and the author of the Essay on the Police of Grain—found that it occurred in France during the same period, and in nearly the same proportion. Yet French law prohibited grain exports until 1764. It is hard to suppose that nearly the same fall in price occurred in one country despite such a prohibition, but was caused in the other by extraordinary encouragement of exports.
Perhaps it is better to regard this change in corn's average money price as the effect of a gradual rise in silver's real value on the European market, rather than a fall in corn's average real value. As already noted, corn measures value more accurately across distant periods than silver, or perhaps any other commodity. When corn rose to three or four times its former money price after the discovery of the abundant American mines, everyone attributed the change not to a rise in corn's real value but to a fall in silver's. If, then, corn's average money price during the first sixty-four years of the present century was somewhat below its level through most of the preceding century, we should likewise attribute the change not to a fall in corn's real value but to some rise in silver's real value on the European market.
The high price of corn over the past ten or twelve years has, admittedly, raised suspicions that silver's real value is still falling in the European market. Yet this high price seems plainly due to extraordinarily unfavorable seasons and should be treated as a temporary, occasional occurrence, not a lasting one. Seasons have been unfavorable throughout much of Europe for these ten or twelve years, while disturbances in Poland have greatly increased scarcity in all the countries that normally drew supplies from that market in expensive years. Such a prolonged succession of bad seasons is unusual but by no means unique; anyone who has studied the history of earlier corn prices will readily recall several comparable instances. Besides, ten years of extraordinary scarcity are no more surprising than ten years of extraordinary plenty. The low prices from 1741 to 1750, both inclusive, can well be set against the high prices of the last eight or ten years. According to the accounts of Eton college, a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat at Windsor market averaged only £ 1:13:9 ⅘ from 1741 to 1750, nearly 6s.3d. below the average for the first sixty-four years of the present century. By this reckoning, a quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat averaged only £ 1:6:8 over those ten years.
Between 1741 and 1750, however, the bounty must have prevented domestic corn prices from falling as low as they naturally would have. The custom-house books show that no less than 8,029,156 quarters, one bushel, of grain of all kinds were exported during those ten years. Bounties paid on these exports amounted to £ 1,514,962:17:4 ½. Accordingly, in 1749 the then prime minister, Mr Pelham, observed to the house of commons that an extraordinary sum had been paid in bounties on corn exports during the preceding three years. He had good reason to say so, and in the following year would have had still more: in that single year bounties amounted to no less than £ 324,176:10:6. [See Tracts on the Corn Trade, Tract 3,] There is no need to explain how much these artificially induced exports must have raised corn prices above what they would otherwise have been in the domestic market.
In the accounts appended to this chapter, readers will find these ten years listed separately, along with the preceding ten years. The earlier period's average is also below the general average of the century's first sixty-four years, though by less. The year 1740, however, was exceptionally scarce. The twenty years preceding 1750 can readily be contrasted with the twenty preceding 1770. The first period was considerably below the century's general average despite one or two expensive years, while the second was considerably above it despite one or two cheap years, such as 1759. If the first period was not as far below the general average as the second was above it, the bounty is probably to blame. The change was plainly too sudden to be attributed to any change in silver's value, which always shifts slowly and gradually. Only a cause that can act suddenly—chance variations in the seasons—can explain the abrupt effect.
The money price of labor in Great Britain has indeed risen during the present century. This seems, however, to reflect not so much any decline in silver's value in the European market as increased demand for labor in Great Britain arising from the country's great and nearly universal prosperity. In France, a country not quite so prosperous, the money price of labor has been observed to decline gradually along with the average money price of corn since the middle of the last century. In both the last century and the present, the daily wages of ordinary labor there are said to have stayed fairly consistently at about one twentieth of the average price of a septier of wheat, a measure containing a little more than four Winchester bushels. In Great Britain, as already shown, labor's real reward—the actual quantities of life's necessities and conveniences given to the laborer—has increased considerably in the present century. The increase in its money price seems due not to falling silver values across the European market but to a rise in labor's real price in the British market, owing to the country's exceptionally favorable circumstances.
For some time after America's first discovery, silver would still have sold at its former price, or not far below it. Mining profits would for a while have been very large, well above their natural rate. But importers of silver into Europe would soon have discovered that they could not sell the entire annual import at this high price. Silver would gradually buy fewer and fewer goods. Its price would decline until it reached its natural level: just enough to pay, at their natural rates, the wages of labor, the profits of stock, and the rent of land incurred in bringing it from mine to market. In most Peruvian silver mines, as already observed, the Spanish king's tax of a tenth of the gross output absorbs the entire rent of the land. Originally this tax was half; soon it dropped to a third, then a fifth, and finally a tenth, the rate at which it remains. In most of Peru's silver mines this tenth seems to be all that remains after replacing the operator's stock and paying its ordinary profits. These profits, once very high, are now generally acknowledged to be as low as they can be while still permitting the mines to operate.
In 1504, the Spanish king's tax was reduced to a fifth of registered silver [Solorzano, vol, ii.], one-and-forty years before 1545, when the mines of Potosi were discovered. In the following ninety years, or before 1636, those mines, the richest in all America, had ample time to produce their full effect: to lower silver's value in the European market as far as it could fall while still paying this tax to the Spanish king. Ninety years suffices to bring any commodity not subject to a monopoly down to its natural price, the lowest price at which it can continue to be sold for a considerable time while paying a particular tax.
Silver's price on the European market might perhaps have fallen further, making it necessary either to cut its tax not merely to one-tenth, as in 1736, but to one twentieth, as with gold, or to abandon most of the American mines now worked. The gradual growth in demand for silver, or expansion of the market for the output of American silver mines, probably prevented this. It has not only sustained silver's value in the European market but perhaps raised it somewhat above its level around the middle of the last century.
Since America was first discovered, the market for the output of its silver mines has steadily expanded.
First, the European market has steadily expanded. Most of Europe has greatly improved since the discovery of America. England, Holland, France, and Germany, and even Sweden, Denmark, and Russia, have all made considerable advances in agriculture and manufacturing. Italy seems not to have gone backward: its decline preceded the conquest of Peru, and since then it seems rather to have recovered a little. Spain and Portugal, admittedly, are thought to have declined. But Portugal is only a small part of Europe, and Spain's decline may not be as great as is commonly imagined. At the beginning of the sixteenth century Spain was very poor, even beside France, which has improved so much since. Emperor Charles V., who frequently traveled through both countries, famously remarked that everything was plentiful in France and everything lacking in Spain. Europe's increasing agricultural and manufactured output necessarily required a growing quantity of silver coin to circulate it; growing numbers of wealthy people likewise required more silver plate and ornaments.
Secondly, America itself is a new market for the output of its own silver mines; and because its agriculture, industry, and population advance far faster than those of even Europe's most thriving countries, its demand must grow much faster as well. The English colonies form an entirely new market, requiring an ever-increasing supply of silver across a vast continent where previously there had been no demand for it, partly for coin and partly for plate. Most Spanish and Portuguese colonies are entirely new markets too. Before the Europeans discovered them, New Granada, the Yucatan, Paraguay, and the Brazils were inhabited by peoples who had neither arts nor agriculture. Both have now been introduced to a considerable degree throughout these regions. Even Mexico and Peru, though not entirely new markets, are certainly far more extensive markets than before. Despite all the marvelous stories published about their ancient splendor, anyone who reads the history of their discovery and conquest with sober judgment will see plainly that their people knew much less of the arts, agriculture, and commerce than the Tartars of the Ukraine know today. Even the Peruvians, the more civilized of the two peoples, used gold and silver for ornament but had no coined money of any sort. All their commerce was conducted by barter; hence there was scarcely any division of labor among them. Farmers had to build their own houses and make their own furniture, clothing, shoes, and farming tools. The few artisans among them are said to have been maintained entirely by the sovereign, nobles, and priests, whose servants or slaves they probably were. Not one of the ancient arts of Mexico and Peru has furnished a single manufactured product to Europe. Spanish armies, rarely exceeding five hundred men and often numbering fewer than half that, found it very difficult almost everywhere to obtain food. The famines they reportedly brought about almost everywhere they went, even in lands described as densely populated and well cultivated, adequately show that the stories of such population and cultivation are largely fabulous. Spanish colonial government is in many ways less favorable to agriculture, improvement, and population than English colonial government. Nevertheless, the Spanish colonies seem to be advancing in all three far faster than any European country. On fertile land in a favorable climate, the great abundance and low cost of land, common to all new colonies, seems an advantage large enough to make up for many defects in civil government. Frezier, visiting Peru in 1713, described Lima as having between twenty-five and twenty-eight thousand inhabitants. Ulloa, resident in the same country between 1740 and 1746, put its population at more than fifty thousand. Their estimates for several other principal towns of Chili and Peru differ by nearly the same proportion. As there seems no reason to doubt either man's information, the difference indicates growth scarcely less rapid than that of the English colonies. America is therefore a new market for the output of its own silver mines, where demand must grow much faster than in Europe's most thriving country.
Book I, Chapter XI, 10
18th-century English
Thirdly, the East Indies is another market for the produce of the silver mines of America, and a market which, from the time of the first discovery of those mines, has been continually taking off a greater and a greater quantity of silver. Since that time, the direct trade between America and the East Indies, which is carried on by means of the Acapulco ships, has been continually augmenting, and the indirect intercourse by the way of Europe has been augmenting in a still greater proportion. During the sixteenth century, the Portuguese were the only European nation who carried on any regular trade to the East Indies. In the last years of that century, the Dutch began to encroach upon this monopoly, and in a few years expelled them from their principal settlements in India. During the greater part of the last century, those two nations divided the most considerable part of the East India trade between them; the trade of the Dutch continually augmenting in a still greater proportion than that of the Portuguese declined. The English and French carried on some trade with India in the last century, but it has been greatly augmented in the course of the present. The East India trade of the Swedes and Danes began in the course of the present century. Even the Muscovites now trade regularly with China, by a sort of caravans which go over land through Siberia and Tartary to Pekin. The East India trade of all these nations, if we except that of the French, which the last war had well nigh annihilated, has been almost continually augmenting. The increasing consumptions of East India goods in Europe is, it seems, so great, as to afford a gradual increase of employment to them all. Tea, for example, was a drug very little used in Europe, before the middle of the last century. At present, the value of the tea annually imported by the English East India company, for the use of their own countrymen, amounts to more than a million and a half a year; and even this is not enough; a great deal more being constantly smuggled into the country from the ports of Holland, from Gottenburgh in Sweden, and from the coast of France, too, as long as the French East India company was in prosperity. The consumption of the porcelain of China, of the spiceries of the Moluccas, of the piece goods of Bengal, and of innumerable other articles, has increased very nearly in a like proportion. The tonnage, accordingly, of all the European shipping employed in the East India trade, at any one time during the last century, was not, perhaps, much greater than that of the English East India company before the late reduction of their shipping.
But in the East Indies, particularly in China and Indostan, the value of the precious metals, when the Europeans first began to trade to those countries, was much higher than in Europe; and it still continues to be so. In rice countries, which generally yield two, sometimes three crops in the year, each of them more plentiful than any common crop of corn, the abundance of food must be much greater than in any corn country of equal extent. Such countries are accordingly much more populous. In them, too, the rich, having a greater superabundance of food to dispose of beyond what they themselves can consume, have the means of purchasing a much greater quantity of the labour of other people. The retinue of a grandee in China or Indostan accordingly is, by all accounts, much more numerous and splendid than that of the richest subjects in Europe. The same superabundance of food, of which they have the disposal, enables them to give a greater quantity of it for all those singular and rare productions which nature furnishes but in very small quantities; such as the precious metals and the precious stones, the great objects of the competition of the rich. Though the mines, therefore, which supplied the Indian market, had been as abundant as those which supplied the European, such commodities would naturally exchange for a greater quantity of food in India than in Europe. But the mines which supplied the Indian market with the precious metals seem to have been a good deal less abundant, and those which supplied it with the precious stones a good deal more so, than the mines which supplied the European. The precious metals, therefore, would naturally exchange in India for a somewhat greater quantity of the precious stones, and for a much greater quantity of food than in Europe. The money price of diamonds, the greatest of all superfluities, would be somewhat lower, and that of food, the first of all necessaries, a great deal lower in the one country than in the other. But the real price of labour, the real quantity of the necessaries of life which is given to the labourer, it has already been observed, is lower both in China and Indostan, the two great markets of India, than it is through the greater part of Europe. The wages of the labourer will there purchase a smaller quantity of food: and as the money price of food is much lower in India than in Europe, the money price of labour is there lower upon a double account; upon account both of the small quantity of food which it will purchase, and of the low price of that food. But in countries of equal art and industry, the money price of the greater part of manufactures will be in proportion to the money price of labour; and in manufacturing art and industry, China and Indostan, though inferior, seem not to be much inferior to any part of Europe. The money price of the greater part of manufactures, therefore, will naturally be much lower in those great empires than it is anywhere in Europe. Through the greater part of Europe, too, the expense of land-carriage increases very much both the real and nominal price of most manufactures. It costs more labour, and therefore more money, to bring first the materials, and afterwards the complete manufacture to market. In China and Indostan, the extent and variety of inland navigations save the greater part of this labour, and consequently of this money, and thereby reduce still lower both the real and the nominal price of the greater part of their manufactures. Upon all these accounts, the precious metals are a commodity which it always has been, and still continues to be, extremely advantageous to carry from Europe to India. There is scarce any commodity which brings a better price there; or which, in proportion to the quantity of labour and commodities which it costs in Europe, will purchase or command a greater quantity of labour and commodities in India. It is more advantageous, too, to carry silver thither than gold; because in China, and the greater part of the other markets of India, the proportion between fine silver and fine gold is but as ten, or at most as twelve to one; whereas in Europe it is as fourteen or fifteen to one. In China, and the greater part of the other markets of India, ten, or at most twelve ounces of silver, will purchase an ounce of gold; in Europe, it requires from fourteen to fifteen ounces. In the cargoes, therefore, of the greater part of European ships which sail to India, silver has generally been one of the most valuable articles. It is the most valuable article in the Acapulco ships which sail to Manilla. The silver of the new continent seems, in this manner, to be one of the principal commodities by which the commerce between the two extremities of the old one is carried on; and it is by means of it, in a great measure, that those distant parts of the world are connected with one another.
In order to supply so very widely extended a market, the quantity of silver annually brought from the mines must not only be sufficient to support that continued increase, both of coin and of plate, which is required in all thriving countries; but to repair that continual waste and consumption of silver which takes place in all countries where that metal is used.
The continual consumption of the precious metals in coin by wearing, and in plate both by wearing and cleaning, is very sensible; and in commodities of which the use is so very widely extended, would alone require a very great annual supply. The consumption of those metals in some particular manufactures, though it may not perhaps be greater upon the whole than this gradual consumption, is, however, much more sensible, as it is much more rapid. In the manufactures of Birmingham alone, the quantity of gold and silver annually employed in gilding and plating, and thereby disqualified from ever afterwards appearing in the shape of those metals, is said to amount to more than fifty thousand pounds sterling. We may from thence form some notion how great must be the annual consumption in all the different parts of the world, either in manufactures of the same kind with those of Birmingham, or in laces, embroideries, gold and silver stuffs, the gilding of books, furniture, etc. A considerable quantity, too, must be annually lost in transporting those metals from one place to another both by sea and by land. In the greater part of the governments of Asia, besides, the almost universal custom of concealing treasures in the bowels of the earth, of which the knowledge frequently dies with the person who makes the concealment, must occasion the loss of a still greater quantity.
The quantity of gold and silver imported at both Cadiz and Lisbon (including not only what comes under register, but what may be supposed to be smuggled) amounts, according to the best accounts, to about six millions sterling a-year.
According to Mr Meggens {Postscript to the Universal Merchant p. 15 and 16. This postscript was not printed till 1756, three years after the publication of the book, which has never had a second edition. The postscript is, therefore, to be found in few copies; it corrects several errors in the book.}, the annual importation of the precious metals into Spain, at an average of six years, viz. from 1748 to 1753, both inclusive, and into Portugal, at an average of seven years, viz. from 1747 to 1753, both inclusive, amounted in silver to 1,101,107 pounds weight, and in gold to 49,940 pounds weight. The silver, at sixty two shillings the pound troy, amounts to £ 3,413,431:10s. sterling. The gold, at forty-four guineas and a half the pound troy, amounts to £ 2,333,446:14s. sterling. Both together amount to £ 5,746,878:4s. sterling. The account of what was imported under register, he assures us, is exact. He gives us the detail of the particular places from which the gold and silver were brought, and of the particular quantity of each metal, which, according to the register, each of them afforded. He makes an allowance, too, for the quantity of each metal which, he supposes, may have been smuggled. The great experience of this judicious merchant renders his opinion of considerable weight.
According to the eloquent, and sometimes well-informed, author of the Philosophical and Political History of the Establishment of the Europeans in the two Indies, the annual importation of registered gold and silver into Spain, at an average of eleven years, viz. from 1754 to 1764, both inclusive, amounted to 13,984,185 ⅗ piastres of ten reals. On account of what may have been smuggled, however, the whole annual importation, he supposes, may have amounted to seventeen millions of piastres, which, at 4s. 6d. the piastre, is equal to £ 3,825,000 sterling. He gives the detail, too, of the particular places from which the gold and silver were brought, and of the particular quantities of each metal, which according to the register, each of them afforded. He informs us, too, that if we were to judge of the quantity of gold annually imported from the Brazils to Lisbon, by the amount of the tax paid to the king of Portugal, which it seems, is one-fifth of the standard metal, we might value it at eighteen millions of cruzadoes, or forty-five millions of French livres, equal to about twenty millions sterling. On account of what may have been smuggled, however, we may safely, he says, add to this sum an eighth more, or £ 250,000 sterling, so that the whole will amount to £ 2,250,000 sterling. According to this account, therefore, the whole annual importation of the precious metals into both Spain and Portugal, mounts to about £ 6,075,000 sterling.
Several other very well authenticated, though manuscript accounts, I have been assured, agree in making this whole annual importation amount, at an average, to about six millions sterling; sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less.
The annual importation of the precious metals into Cadiz and Lisbon, indeed, is not equal to the whole annual produce of the mines of America. Some part is sent annually by the Acapulco ships to Manilla; some part is employed in a contraband trade, which the Spanish colonies carry on with those of other European nations; and some part, no doubt, remains in the country. The mines of America, besides, are by no means the only gold and silver mines in the world. They, are, however, by far the most abundant. The produce of all the other mines which are known is insignificant, it is acknowledged, in comparison with theirs; and the far greater part of their produce, it is likewise acknowledged, is annually imported into Cadiz and Lisbon. But the consumption of Birmingham alone, at the rate of fifty thousand pounds a-year, is equal to the hundred-and-twentieth part of this annual importation, at the rate of six millions a-year. The whole annual consumption of gold and silver, therefore, in all the different countries of the world where those metals are used, may, perhaps, be nearly equal to the whole annual produce. The remainder may be no more than sufficient to supply the increasing demand of all thriving countries. It may even have fallen so far short of this demand, as somewhat to raise the price of those metals in the European market.
The quantity of brass and iron annually brought from the mine to the market, is out of all proportion greater than that of gold and silver. We do not, however, upon this account, imagine that those coarse metals are likely to multiply beyond the demand, or to become gradually cheaper and cheaper. Why should we imagine that the precious metals are likely to do so? The coarse metals, indeed, though harder, are put to much harder uses, and, as they are of less value, less care is employed in their preservation. The precious metals, however, are not necessarily immortal any more than they, but are liable, too, to be lost, wasted, and consumed, in a great variety of ways.
The price of all metals, though liable to slow and gradual variations, varies less from year to year than that of almost any other part of the rude produce of land: and the price of the precious metals is even less liable to sudden variations than that of the coarse ones. The durableness of metals is the foundation of this extraordinary steadiness of price. The corn which was brought to market last year will be all, or almost all, consumed, long before the end of this year. But some part of the iron which was brought from the mine two or three hundred years ago, may be still in use, and, perhaps, some part of the gold which was brought from it two or three thousand years ago. The different masses of corn, which, in different years, must supply the consumption of the world, will always be nearly in proportion to the respective produce of those different years. But the proportion between the different masses of iron which may be in use in two different years, will be very little affected by any accidental difference in the produce of the iron mines of those two years; and the proportion between the masses of gold will be still less affected by any such difference in the produce of the gold mines. Though the produce of the greater part of metallic mines, therefore, varies, perhaps, still more from year to year than that of the greater part of corn fields, those variations have not the same effect upon the price of the one species of commodities as upon that of the other.
_Variations in the Proportion between the respective Values of Gold and Silver._
English
Thirdly, the East Indies form another market for the output of America's silver mines, one that has absorbed ever greater quantities of silver since the mines were first discovered. Direct trade between America and the East Indies, conducted by the Acapulco ships, has grown steadily since then, while indirect trade through Europe has grown still faster. In the sixteenth century the Portuguese alone among European nations traded regularly with the East Indies. In that century's final years the Dutch began to challenge their monopoly, and within a few years drove them from their principal Indian settlements. For most of the last century these two nations shared the greater part of the East India trade; Dutch trade grew at an even faster rate than Portuguese trade declined. The English and French did some trade with India in the last century, but greatly expanded it in the present one. Swedish and Danish trade with the East Indies began in the present century. Even the Muscovites now trade regularly with China by caravans traveling overland through Siberia and Tartary to Pekin. The East India trade of all these nations has grown almost continuously, apart from that of the French, which the last war nearly destroyed. European consumption of East Indian goods has evidently increased enough to provide steadily more business for all of them. Tea, for example, was scarcely used in Europe before the middle of the last century. Now the English East India company imports tea worth more than a million and a half a year for its own countrymen; even this is not enough, and far more is constantly smuggled in from Dutch ports, from Gottenburgh in Sweden, and also from the French coast so long as the French East India company prospered. Consumption of Chinese porcelain, Moluccan spices, Bengal piece goods, and countless other articles has grown in nearly the same proportion. Accordingly, the tonnage of all European vessels engaged in East India trade at any one time in the last century may not have been much greater than that of the English East India company before the recent reduction of its fleet.
In the East Indies, however, especially China and Indostan, the precious metals were worth much more than in Europe when Europeans first began to trade there, and remain so. Lands growing rice generally yield two and sometimes three harvests a year, each more plentiful than an ordinary corn harvest. The food supply in such lands must thus be far greater than in corn-growing lands of equal size; their populations are correspondingly larger. Their wealthy inhabitants, too, have more surplus food beyond their own needs and can therefore purchase much more of other people's labor. By every account, the household of a grandee in China or Indostan is consequently much larger and more splendid than that of Europe's richest subjects. This same surplus food at their disposal enables them to offer more for the rare and singular things nature supplies only in small quantities—precious metals and precious stones, the great objects of competition among the rich. Thus even if the mines supplying the Indian market had been as rich as those supplying Europe, these goods would naturally exchange for more food in India. Yet the mines supplying India with precious metals seem considerably less productive than Europe's suppliers, while its sources of precious stones seem considerably more productive. Precious metals would therefore naturally exchange in India for somewhat more precious stones and far more food than in Europe. Diamonds, the greatest of all luxuries, would have a somewhat lower money price there, while food, the foremost necessity, would have a much lower one. But, as already observed, labor's real price—the actual quantity of life's necessities received by the laborer—is lower in China and Indostan, India's two great markets, than in most of Europe. Laborers' wages there buy less food; and because food also has a much lower money price in India than in Europe, labor's money price is lower for two reasons: the small quantity of food wages buy, and the low price of that food. In countries equally skilled and industrious, most manufactured goods have money prices proportional to labor's money price. China and Indostan seem not much behind any European region in manufacturing skill and industry, even if somewhat inferior. Thus the money price of most manufactures must naturally be much lower in those great empires than anywhere in Europe. Across much of Europe, overland transport greatly increases both the real and nominal price of most manufactures. First the materials and then the finished goods cost more labor, hence more money, to bring to market. China's and Indostan's extensive and varied inland waterways save most of that labor and money, further reducing both the real and nominal price of most of their manufactures. For all these reasons, carrying precious metals from Europe to India has always been, and remains, extremely profitable. Hardly any commodity brings a better price there, or buys more Indian labor and goods relative to the labor and goods it costs in Europe. Transporting silver there is more profitable than transporting gold, since in China and most other Indian markets the ratio of fine silver to fine gold is only ten, or at most twelve to one, while in Europe it is fourteen or fifteen to one. In China and most other Indian markets, ten or at most twelve ounces of silver buy one ounce of gold; in Europe fourteen to fifteen ounces are required. Silver has therefore generally been among the most valuable goods aboard most European ships bound for India. It is the most valuable article carried by the Acapulco ships sailing to Manilla. In this way the silver of the new continent seems to be one of the principal commodities sustaining trade between the two ends of the old one, and it is largely through silver that those distant parts of the world are connected.
To supply such a vast market, the silver brought from the mines each year must suffice not only for the continual increase in coin and plate required by all thriving countries, but also to replace the continuous loss and consumption of silver wherever the metal is used.
Wear steadily consumes precious metals in coin, and both wear and cleaning consume them in plate. This loss is considerable and, given how widely those articles are used, would itself require a very large annual supply. Consumption of these metals in particular manufactures may not be greater overall than this gradual attrition, but it is more noticeable because much faster. The gold and silver used every year for gilding and plating in Birmingham's manufactures alone, and thus rendered incapable of ever again appearing as those metals, are said to be worth more than fifty thousand pounds sterling. From that we can form some idea of the annual consumption around the world in manufactures like Birmingham's, or in lace, embroidery, gold and silver fabrics, gilded books and furniture, etc. A considerable quantity, too, must be lost each year when the metals are transported by sea or land. Moreover, in most Asian governments the nearly universal custom of burying treasure, the location of which often dies with the person who hid it, must cause still greater losses.
According to the best accounts, the gold and silver imported into Cadiz and Lisbon together, including registered shipments and estimated contraband, amount to about six millions sterling a-year.
According to Mr Meggens [Postscript to the Universal Merchant p. 15 and 16. This postscript was not printed till 1756, three years after the publication of the book, which has never had a second edition. The postscript is, therefore, to be found in few copies; it corrects several errors in the book.], the average annual imports of precious metals into Spain over six years, from 1748 to 1753, both inclusive, and into Portugal over seven years, from 1747 to 1753, both inclusive, were 1,101,107 pounds weight of silver and 49,940 pounds weight of gold. At sixty two shillings per troy pound, the silver amounts to £ 3,413,431:10s. sterling; at forty-four guineas and a half per troy pound, the gold amounts to £ 2,333,446:14s. sterling. Together they total £ 5,746,878:4s. sterling. He assures us that his account of registered imports is exact. He specifies the places from which gold and silver came and the quantities of each metal each place supplied according to the register. He also makes an allowance for the quantities of each metal he supposes were smuggled. This discerning merchant's extensive experience gives his opinion considerable weight.
According to the eloquent and sometimes well-informed author of the Philosophical and Political History of the Establishment of the Europeans in the two Indies, registered gold and silver imports into Spain averaged 13,984,185 ⅗ piastres of ten reals a year over eleven years, from 1754 to 1764, both inclusive. Allowing for smuggling, however, he supposes total annual imports may have reached seventeen millions of piastres, equivalent at 4s. 6d. a piastre to £ 3,825,000 sterling. He likewise details the places the metals came from and the registered quantities of each metal supplied by each. He further tells us that if we estimated annual gold imports from the Brazils into Lisbon by the tax paid to the Portuguese king—apparently one-fifth of the standard metal—we might put them at eighteen millions of cruzadoes, or forty-five millions of French livres, equal to about twenty millions sterling. But to allow for possible smuggling we may safely add, he says, another eighth, or £ 250,000 sterling, bringing the whole to £ 2,250,000 sterling. On this account, then, annual precious-metal imports into Spain and Portugal together reach about £ 6,075,000 sterling.
I have been assured that several other reliable, though unpublished, accounts likewise put the total annual import at an average of about six millions sterling, sometimes a little above and sometimes a little below.
Annual precious-metal imports into Cadiz and Lisbon, however, do not equal the entire annual output of America's mines. Some silver goes each year to Manilla aboard the Acapulco ships; some supports the contraband trade between Spanish colonies and the colonies of other European nations; and some doubtless stays in America. Nor are American mines the world's only gold and silver mines. They are, however, by far the richest. Everyone agrees that the output of all other known mines is negligible beside theirs, and that by far the greater part of the American output is imported annually into Cadiz and Lisbon. Yet Birmingham's consumption alone, at fifty thousand pounds a-year, equals a hundred-and-twentieth of annual imports reckoned at six millions a-year. The total yearly consumption of gold and silver across all countries using those metals may therefore nearly equal their total yearly output. What remains may barely suffice to meet the growing demand of all thriving countries. It may even have fallen far enough short of that demand to raise the metals' price somewhat in the European market.
Far more brass and iron than gold and silver are brought from mines to market each year. We do not, however, imagine for that reason that these common metals will multiply beyond demand and grow steadily cheaper. Why imagine the precious metals will do so? Though harder, common metals are put to far harsher uses, and because they are worth less, less effort is devoted to preserving them. Yet precious metals are no more indestructible: they too can be lost, wasted, and consumed in many ways.
Although the prices of all metals undergo slow and gradual change, they vary less from year to year than the prices of nearly any other raw product of the land; precious-metal prices are even less subject to sudden shifts than those of common metals. Metals' durability underlies this remarkable stability. All or nearly all the corn brought to market last year will be consumed well before this year ends. But some iron mined two or three hundred years ago may still be in use, and perhaps some gold mined two or three thousand years ago as well. The quantities of corn available to feed the world in different years will always be nearly proportional to those years' respective harvests. By contrast, a chance difference between two years' iron-mine outputs will scarcely affect the relative quantities of iron in use in those years; such a difference in gold-mine outputs will have even less effect on the relative quantities of gold. Though the output of most metal mines may vary more from year to year than that of most cornfields, those fluctuations do not affect the prices of the two kinds of goods in the same way.
Variations in the Proportion between the respective Values of Gold and Silver.
Book I, Chapter XI, 11
18th-century English
Before the discovery of the mines of America, the value of fine gold to fine silver was regulated in the different mines of Europe, between the proportions of one to ten and one to twelve; that is, an ounce of fine gold was supposed to be worth from ten to twelve ounces of fine silver. About the middle of the last century, it came to be regulated, between the proportions of one to fourteen and one to fifteen; that is, an ounce of fine gold came to be supposed worth between fourteen and fifteen ounces of fine silver. Gold rose in its nominal value, or in the quantity of silver which was given for it. Both metals sunk in their real value, or in the quantity of labour which they could purchase; but silver sunk more than gold. Though both the gold and silver mines of America exceeded in fertility all those which had ever been known before, the fertility of the silver mines had, it seems, been proportionally still greater than that of the gold ones.
The great quantities of silver carried annually from Europe to India, have, in some of the English settlements, gradually reduced the value of that metal in proportion to gold. In the mint of Calcutta, an ounce of fine gold is supposed to be worth fifteen ounces of fine silver, in the same manner as in Europe. It is in the mint, perhaps, rated too high for the value which it bears in the market of Bengal. In China, the proportion of gold to silver still continues as one to ten, or one to twelve. In Japan, it is said to be as one to eight.
The proportion between the quantities of gold and silver annually imported into Europe, according to Mr Meggens’ account, is as one to twenty-two nearly; that is, for one ounce of gold there are imported a little more than twenty-two ounces of silver. The great quantity of silver sent annually to the East Indies reduces, he supposes, the quantities of those metals which remain in Europe to the proportion of one to fourteen or fifteen, the proportion of their values. The proportion between their values, he seems to think, must necessarily be the same as that between their quantities, and would therefore be as one to twenty-two, were it not for this greater exportation of silver.
But the ordinary proportion between the respective values of two commodities is not necessarily the same as that between the quantities of them which are commonly in the market. The price of an ox, reckoned at ten guineas, is about three score times the price of a lamb, reckoned at 3s. 6d. It would be absurd, however, to infer from thence, that there are commonly in the market three score lambs for one ox; and it would be just as absurd to infer, because an ounce of gold will commonly purchase from fourteen or fifteen ounces of silver, that there are commonly in the market only fourteen or fifteen ounces of silver for one ounce of gold.
The quantity of silver commonly in the market, it is probable, is much greater in proportion to that of gold, than the value of a certain quantity of gold is to that of an equal quantity of silver. The whole quantity of a cheap commodity brought to market is commonly not only greater, but of greater value, than the whole quantity of a dear one. The whole quantity of bread annually brought to market, is not only greater, but of greater value, than the whole quantity of butcher’s meat; the whole quantity of butcher’s meat, than the whole quantity of poultry; and the whole quantity of poultry, than the whole quantity of wild fowl. There are so many more purchasers for the cheap than for the dear commodity, that, not only a greater quantity of it, but a greater value can commonly be disposed of. The whole quantity, therefore, of the cheap commodity, must commonly be greater in proportion to the whole quantity of the dear one, than the value of a certain quantity of the dear one, is to the value of an equal quantity of the cheap one. When we compare the precious metals with one another, silver is a cheap, and gold a dear commodity. We ought naturally to expect, therefore, that there should always be in the market, not only a greater quantity, but a greater value of silver than of gold. Let any man, who has a little of both, compare his own silver with his gold plate, and he will probably find, that not only the quantity, but the value of the former, greatly exceeds that of the latter. Many people, besides, have a good deal of silver who have no gold plate, which, even with those who have it, is generally confined to watch-cases, snuff-boxes, and such like trinkets, of which the whole amount is seldom of great value. In the British coin, indeed, the value of the gold preponderates greatly, but it is not so in that of all countries. In the coin of some countries, the value of the two metals is nearly equal. In the Scotch coin, before the union with England, the gold preponderated very little, though it did somewhat {See Ruddiman’s Preface to Anderson’s Diplomata, etc. Scotiae.}, as it appears by the accounts of the mint. In the coin of many countries the silver preponderates. In France, the largest sums are commonly paid in that metal, and it is there difficult to get more gold than what is necessary to carry about in your pocket. The superior value, however, of the silver plate above that of the gold, which takes place in all countries, will much more than compensate the preponderancy of the gold coin above the silver, which takes place only in some countries.
Though, in one sense of the word, silver always has been, and probably always will be, much cheaper than gold; yet, in another sense, gold may perhaps, in the present state of the Spanish market, be said to be somewhat cheaper than silver. A commodity may be said to be dear or cheap not only according to the absolute greatness or smallness of its usual price, but according as that price is more or less above the lowest for which it is possible to bring it to market for any considerable time together. This lowest price is that which barely replaces, with a moderate profit, the stock which must be employed in bringing the commodity thither. It is the price which affords nothing to the landlord, of which rent makes not any component part, but which resolves itself altogether into wages and profit. But, in the present state of the Spanish market, gold is certainly somewhat nearer to this lowest price than silver. The tax of the king of Spain upon gold is only one-twentieth part of the standard metal, or five per cent.; whereas his tax upon silver amounts to one-tenth part of it, or to ten per cent. In these taxes, too, it has already been observed, consists the whole rent of the greater part of the gold and silver mines of Spanish America; and that upon gold is still worse paid than that upon silver. The profits of the undertakers of gold mines, too, as they more rarely make a fortune, must, in general, be still more moderate than those of the undertakers of silver mines. The price of Spanish gold, therefore, as it affords both less rent and less profit, must, in the Spanish market, be somewhat nearer to the lowest price for which it is possible to bring it thither, than the price of Spanish silver. When all expenses are computed, the whole quantity of the one metal, it would seem, cannot, in the Spanish market, be disposed of so advantageously as the whole quantity of the other. The tax, indeed, of the king of Portugal upon the gold of the Brazils, is the same with the ancient tax of the king of Spain upon the silver of Mexico and Peru; or one-fifth part of the standard metal. It may therefore be uncertain, whether, to the general market of Europe, the whole mass of American gold comes at a price nearer to the lowest for which it is possible to bring it thither, than the whole mass of American silver.
The price of diamonds and other precious stones may, perhaps, be still nearer to the lowest price at which it is possible to bring them to market, than even the price of gold.
Though it is not very probable that any part of a tax, which is not only imposed upon one of the most proper subjects of taxation, a mere luxury and superfluity, but which affords so very important a revenue as the tax upon silver, will ever be given up as long as it is possible to pay it; yet the same impossibility of paying it, which, in 1736. made it necessary to reduce it from one-fifth to one-tenth, may in time make it necessary to reduce it still further; in the same manner as it made it necessary to reduce the tax upon gold to one-twentieth. That the silver mines of Spanish America, like all other mines, become gradually more expensive in the working, on account of the greater depths at which it is necessary to carry on the works, and of the greater expense of drawing out the water, and of supplying them with fresh air at those depths, is acknowledged by everybody who has inquired into the state of those mines.
These causes, which are equivalent to a growing scarcity of silver (for a commodity may be said to grow scarcer when it becomes more difficult and expensive to collect a certain quantity of it), must, in time, produce one or other of the three following events: The increase of the expense must either, first, be compensated altogether by a proportionable increase in the price of the metal; or, secondly, it must be compensated altogether by a proportionable diminution of the tax upon silver; or, thirdly, it must be compensated partly by the one and partly by the other of those two expedients. This third event is very possible. As gold rose in its price in proportion to silver, notwithstanding a great diminution of the tax upon gold, so silver might rise in its price in proportion to labour and commodities, notwithstanding an equal diminution of the tax upon silver.
Such successive reductions of the tax, however, though they may not prevent altogether, must certainly retard, more or less, the rise of the value of silver in the European market. In consequence of such reductions, many mines may be wrought which could not be wrought before, because they could not afford to pay the old tax; and the quantity of silver annually brought to market, must always be somewhat greater, and, therefore, the value of any given quantity somewhat less, than it otherwise would have been. In consequence of the reduction in 1736, the value of silver in the European market, though it may not at this day be lower than before that reduction, is, probably, at least ten per cent. lower than it would have been, had the court of Spain continued to exact the old tax. That, notwithstanding this reduction, the value of silver has, during the course of the present century, begun to rise somewhat in the European market, the facts and arguments which have been alleged above, dispose me to believe, or more properly to suspect and conjecture; for the best opinion which I can form upon this subject, scarce, perhaps, deserves the name of belief. The rise, indeed, supposing there has been any, has hitherto been so very small, that after all that has been said, it may, perhaps, appear to many people uncertain, not only whether this event has actually taken place, but whether the contrary may not have taken place, or whether the value of silver may not still continue to fall in the European market.
It must be observed, however, that whatever may be the supposed annual importation of gold and silver, there must be a certain period at which the annual consumption of those metals will be equal to that annual importation. Their consumption must increase as their mass increases, or rather in a much greater proportion. As their mass increases, their value diminishes. They are more used, and less cared for, and their consumption consequently increases in a greater proportion than their mass. After a certain period, therefore, the annual consumption of those metals must, in this manner, become equal to their annual importation, provided that importation is not continually increasing; which, in the present times, is not supposed to be the case.
If, when the annual consumption has become equal to the annual importation, the annual importation should gradually diminish, the annual consumption may, for some time, exceed the annual importation. The mass of those metals may gradually and insensibly diminish, and their value gradually and insensibly rise, till the annual importation becoming again stationary, the annual consumption will gradually and insensibly accommodate itself to what that annual importation can maintain.
_Grounds of the suspicion that the Value of Silver still continues to decrease._
The increase of the wealth of Europe, and the popular notion, that as the quantity of the precious metals naturally increases with the increase of wealth, so their value diminishes as their quantity increases, may, perhaps, dispose many people to believe that their value still continues to fall in the European market; and the still gradually increasing price of many parts of the rude produce of land may confirm them still farther in this opinion.
That that increase in the quantity of the precious metals, which arises in any country from the increase of wealth, has no tendency to diminish their value, I have endeavoured to shew already. Gold and silver naturally resort to a rich country, for the same reason that all sorts of luxuries and curiosities resort to it; not because they are cheaper there than in poorer countries, but because they are dearer, or because a better price is given for them. It is the superiority of price which attracts them; and as soon as that superiority ceases, they necessarily cease to go thither.
If you except corn, and such other vegetables as are raised altogether by human industry, that all other sorts of rude produce, cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, the useful fossils and minerals of the earth, etc. naturally grow dearer, as the society advances in wealth and improvement, I have endeavoured to shew already. Though such commodities, therefore, come to exchange for a greater quantity of silver than before, it will not from thence follow that silver has become really cheaper, or will purchase less labour than before; but that such commodities have become really dearer, or will purchase more labour than before. It is not their nominal price only, but their real price, which rises in the progress of improvement. The rise of their nominal price is the effect, not of any degradation of the value of silver, but of the rise in their real price.
_Different Effects of the Progress of Improvement upon three different sorts of rude Produce._
These different sorts of rude produce may be divided into three classes. The first comprehends those which it is scarce in the power of human industry to multiply at all. The second, those which it can multiply in proportion to the demand. The third, those in which the efficacy of industry is either limited or uncertain. In the progress of wealth and improvement, the real price of the first may rise to any degree of extravagance, and seems not to be limited by any certain boundary. That of the second, though it may rise greatly, has, however, a certain boundary, beyond which it cannot well pass for any considerable time together. That of the third, though its natural tendency is to rise in the progress of improvement, yet in the same degree of improvement it may sometimes happen even to fall, sometimes to continue the same, and sometimes to rise more or less, according as different accidents render the efforts of human industry, in multiplying this sort of rude produce, more or less successful.
English
Before the discovery of the American mines, the value of fine gold relative to fine silver in the various European mints was fixed at ratios between one to ten and one to twelve: an ounce of fine gold was reckoned worth ten to twelve ounces of fine silver. Around the middle of the last century, the ratio came to be fixed between one to fourteen and one to fifteen: an ounce of fine gold was now reckoned worth fourteen to fifteen ounces of fine silver. Gold rose in nominal value, that is, in the amount of silver paid for it. Both metals fell in real value, or in the amount of labor they could purchase; but silver fell further than gold. Though the American gold and silver mines were more productive than any previously known, the silver mines appear to have been proportionately more productive still than the gold mines.
The great quantities of silver carried every year from Europe to India have gradually lowered that metal’s value relative to gold in some English settlements. In the Calcutta mint, an ounce of fine gold is reckoned worth fifteen ounces of fine silver, as in Europe. This mint valuation may be too high for its value in the Bengal market. In China, the ratio of gold to silver remains one to ten or one to twelve. In Japan it is said to be one to eight.
According to Mr Meggens’ account, the quantities of gold and silver imported into Europe each year stand at nearly one to twenty-two: for every ounce of gold, a little more than twenty-two ounces of silver are imported. The large amount of silver shipped annually to the East Indies reduces, he supposes, the quantities of the two metals left in Europe to a ratio of one to fourteen or fifteen, the ratio of their values. He seems to think that the ratio of their values must necessarily equal that of their quantities, and would therefore be one to twenty-two if so much silver were not exported.
Yet the usual ratio between the values of two commodities need not equal the ratio between the quantities of them commonly available in the market. An ox priced at ten guineas costs about three score times as much as a lamb priced at 3s. 6d. It would nevertheless be absurd to conclude that there are commonly three score lambs in the market for every ox. It would be just as absurd to conclude, because an ounce of gold commonly buys fourteen or fifteen ounces of silver, that only fourteen or fifteen ounces of silver are commonly available for every ounce of gold.
There is probably much more silver in the market relative to gold than the value of a given amount of gold bears to that of an equal amount of silver. The entire quantity of a cheap commodity brought to market is generally not merely greater in volume than that of a dear commodity, but greater in value. All the bread brought to market each year exceeds all the butcher’s meat both in quantity and in value; all the butcher’s meat likewise exceeds the poultry, and all the poultry the wildfowl. There are so many more buyers for a cheap commodity than for a dear one that a greater quantity and a greater total value can generally be sold. The total quantity of the cheap commodity must therefore commonly exceed the total quantity of the dear one by a greater ratio than the value of a given quantity of the dear commodity exceeds that of an equal quantity of the cheap one. Compared with each other, the precious metals make silver the cheap commodity and gold the dear one. We should accordingly expect the market always to contain not only more silver than gold, but a greater value of silver. Anyone who owns a little of both may compare his silver plate with his gold plate and will probably find that the former greatly exceeds the latter in value as well as quantity. Besides, many people possess a good deal of silver but no gold plate; and even among those who possess it, gold plate is generally limited to watch cases, snuffboxes, and similar trinkets, whose total value is seldom large. The value of gold does, to be sure, greatly predominate in British coin, but not in the coin of every country. In some countries the values of the two metals in coin are nearly equal. In Scottish coin before the union with England, gold predominated only slightly, though it did predominate somewhat [See Ruddiman’s Preface to Anderson’s Diplomata, etc. Scotiae.], as the mint accounts show. In many countries silver predominates in the coin. In France, the largest payments are commonly made in silver, and it is hard there to obtain more gold than one needs to carry in a pocket. Yet the greater value of silver plate than gold plate in every country will far more than offset the predominance of gold over silver coin in the few countries where it occurs.
Although silver has always been, and probably always will be, far cheaper than gold in one sense of the word, gold may in another sense be called somewhat cheaper than silver in the present Spanish market. A commodity can be called dear or cheap not only by the absolute size of its ordinary price but also by how far that price exceeds the lowest at which it can be brought to market for any substantial length of time. This minimum price barely replaces, with a moderate profit, the stock employed to bring the commodity there. It leaves nothing for the landlord, contains no rent, and consists entirely of wages and profit. In the present Spanish market, however, gold is certainly somewhat closer to this minimum price than silver. The king of Spain’s tax on gold is only one-twentieth of the standard metal, or five per cent.; his tax on silver is one-tenth, or ten per cent. As already noted, these taxes constitute the whole rent of most gold and silver mines in Spanish America, and the gold tax is paid even less reliably than the silver tax. The profits of those who operate gold mines must generally be more modest than those of silver-mine operators, since fortunes are made less often in gold. Since it yields less rent and less profit, Spanish gold must therefore sell in the Spanish market somewhat closer to its minimum feasible price than Spanish silver. Taking every expense into account, it would appear that the entire quantity of gold cannot be sold in the Spanish market on such advantageous terms as the entire quantity of silver. The king of Portugal’s tax on Brazilian gold, however, is the same as the old tax of the king of Spain on the silver of Mexico and Peru: one-fifth of the standard metal. It may therefore be uncertain whether, in the general European market, the entire stock of American gold arrives at a price closer to the minimum feasible price than the entire stock of American silver.
The price of diamonds and other precious stones may lie even closer than gold’s to the minimum at which they can be brought to market.
It is highly unlikely that any portion of the silver tax will be relinquished while payment remains possible: it falls on one of the most suitable objects of taxation, a mere luxury and superfluity, and produces a very important revenue. Yet the same inability to pay that made it necessary in 1736. to reduce the tax from one-fifth to one-tenth may eventually require a further reduction, just as it required reducing the tax on gold to one-twentieth. Everyone who has investigated the Spanish American silver mines acknowledges that, like all mines, they gradually become more expensive to work as operations must descend further, making it costlier both to draw out the water and to supply fresh air at those depths.
These causes amount to a growing scarcity of silver—for a commodity can be said to grow scarcer when gathering a given quantity becomes harder and costlier—and must eventually bring about one of three outcomes. First, the increased cost must be wholly offset by a corresponding rise in the metal’s price; second, it must be wholly offset by a corresponding reduction in the silver tax; or third, it must be offset partly by each of these two means. The third outcome is quite possible. Just as gold rose in price relative to silver despite a large reduction of the tax on gold, silver might rise in price relative to labor and commodities despite an equal reduction of the tax on silver.
Successive reductions of the tax, however, would certainly delay to some degree a rise in silver’s value in the European market, even if they could not entirely prevent it. They would allow many mines to be worked that could not previously bear the old tax. The amount of silver brought to market each year would thus always be somewhat greater, and the value of any given quantity somewhat lower, than otherwise. Because of the reduction in 1736, silver’s value in the European market, even if it is no lower today than before that reduction, is probably at least ten per cent. lower than it would have been had the Spanish court continued to exact the old tax. Despite this reduction, the facts and arguments set out above incline me to believe that the value of silver has begun to rise somewhat in the European market during the present century—or, more accurately, to suspect and conjecture it, for the best judgment I can form on the matter scarcely deserves the name of belief. Indeed, any rise so far has been so small that many people, after all that has been said, may still doubt not only whether it has occurred, but whether the reverse has occurred instead, and silver’s value continues to fall in the European market.
It should be observed, however, that whatever annual imports of gold and silver one assumes, a time must come when the annual consumption of those metals equals those imports. Consumption must grow as their accumulated quantity grows, indeed at a much faster rate. As their quantity grows, their value falls. They are used more freely and handled with less care; consequently their consumption rises faster than their accumulated quantity. Eventually, therefore, annual consumption must come to equal annual imports in this way, provided imports do not keep rising—a condition they are not supposed to meet at present.
If annual imports then gradually decline once annual consumption has come to equal them, consumption may exceed imports for a time. The accumulated quantity of the metals may slowly and imperceptibly diminish, and their value slowly and imperceptibly rise, until imports stabilize again and consumption gradually and imperceptibly adjusts to the amount those imports can sustain.
Grounds for Suspecting That the Value of Silver Is Still Declining
Europe’s growing wealth, together with the popular belief that the quantity of precious metals naturally increases with wealth and their value falls as their quantity rises, may lead many to believe that their value continues to fall in the European market. The steadily rising price of many kinds of raw produce from the land may further strengthen that belief.
I have already tried to show that an increase in the quantity of precious metals arising from a country’s increased wealth does not tend to lower their value. Gold and silver flow naturally to a rich country for the same reason as luxuries and curiosities of every kind: not because they are cheaper there than in poorer countries, but because they are dearer, and fetch a better price. That higher price attracts them, and the moment it disappears, they necessarily stop flowing there.
Excepting corn and other vegetables raised entirely by human industry, I have also tried to show that every other kind of raw produce—cattle, poultry, every kind of game, useful fossils and minerals, etc.—naturally grows dearer as society advances in wealth and improvement. Even if such commodities therefore exchange for more silver than before, it does not follow that silver has truly grown cheaper and buys less labor. Rather, these commodities have truly grown dearer and buy more labor. It is their real price, not just their nominal price, that rises with improvement. The rise in their nominal price results not from any decline in silver’s value, but from the rise in their real price.
Different Effects of the Progress of Improvement on Three Kinds of Raw Produce
These different kinds of raw produce may be divided into three classes. The first includes things that human industry can scarcely multiply at all. The second includes things it can multiply in proportion to demand. The third includes things for which the effectiveness of industry is either limited or uncertain. With growing wealth and improvement, the real price of the first class may rise extravagantly, apparently without any definite limit. The real price of the second, though it may rise greatly, has a definite limit beyond which it cannot long remain. The real price of the third naturally tends to rise with improvement; yet at a given stage of improvement it may fall, stay the same, or rise by varying degrees, depending on how various circumstances affect the success of human industry in multiplying this kind of raw produce.
Book I, Chapter XI, 12
18th-century English
First Sort.—The first sort of rude produce, of which the price rises in the progress of improvement, is that which it is scarce in the power of human industry to multiply at all. It consists in those things which nature produces only in certain quantities, and which being of a very perishable nature, it is impossible to accumulate together the produce of many different seasons. Such are the greater part of rare and singular birds and fishes, many different sorts of game, almost all wild-fowl, all birds of passage in particular, as well as many other things. When wealth, and the luxury which accompanies it, increase, the demand for these is likely to increase with them, and no effort of human industry may be able to increase the supply much beyond what it was before this increase of the demand. The quantity of such commodities, therefore, remaining the same, or nearly the same, while the competition to purchase them is continually increasing, their price may rise to any degree of extravagance, and seems not to be limited by any certain boundary. If woodcocks should become so fashionable as to sell for twenty guineas a-piece, no effort of human industry could increase the number of those brought to market, much beyond what it is at present. The high price paid by the Romans, in the time of their greatest grandeur, for rare birds and fishes, may in this manner easily be accounted for. These prices were not the effects of the low value of silver in those times, but of the high value of such rarities and curiosities as human industry could not multiply at pleasure. The real value of silver was higher at Rome, for sometime before, and after the fall of the republic, than it is through the greater part of Europe at present. Three sestertii equal to about sixpence sterling, was the price which the republic paid for the modius or peck of the tithe wheat of Sicily. This price, however, was probably below the average market price, the obligation to deliver their wheat at this rate being considered as a tax upon the Sicilian farmers. When the Romans, therefore, had occasion to order more corn than the tithe of wheat amounted to, they were bound by capitulation to pay for the surplus at the rate of four sestertii, or eightpence sterling the peck; and this had probably been reckoned the moderate and reasonable, that is, the ordinary or average contract price of those times; it is equal to about one-and-twenty shillings the quarter. Eight-and-twenty shillings the quarter was, before the late years of scarcity, the ordinary contract price of English wheat, which in quality is inferior to the Sicilian, and generally sells for a lower price in the European market. The value of silver, therefore, in those ancient times, must have been to its value in the present, as three to four inversely; that is, three ounces of silver would then have purchased the same quantity of labour and commodities which four ounces will do at present. When we read in Pliny, therefore, that Seius {Lib. X, c. 29.} bought a white nightingale, as a present for the empress Agrippina, at the price of six thousand sestertii, equal to about fifty pounds of our present money; and that Asinius Celer {Lib. IX, c. 17.} purchased a surmullet at the price of eight thousand sestertii, equal to about sixty-six pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence of our present money; the extravagance of those prices, how much soever it may surprise us, is apt, notwithstanding, to appear to us about one third less than it really was. Their real price, the quantity of labour and subsistence which was given away for them, was about one-third more than their nominal price is apt to express to us in the present times. Seius gave for the nightingale the command of a quantity of labour and subsistence, equal to what £ 66:13: 4d. would purchase in the present times; and Asinius Celer gave for a surmullet the command of a quantity equal to what £ 88:17: 9d. would purchase. What occasioned the extravagance of those high prices was, not so much the abundance of silver, as the abundance of labour and subsistence, of which those Romans had the disposal, beyond what was necessary for their own use. The quantity of silver, of which they had the disposal, was a good deal less than what the command of the same quantity of labour and subsistence would have procured to them in the present times.
Second sort.—The second sort of rude produce, of which the price rises in the progress of improvement, is that which human industry can multiply in proportion to the demand. It consists in those useful plants and animals, which, in uncultivated countries, nature produces with such profuse abundance, that they are of little or no value, and which, as cultivation advances, are therefore forced to give place to some more profitable produce. During a long period in the progress of improvement, the quantity of these is continually diminishing, while, at the same time, the demand for them is continually increasing. Their real value, therefore, the real quantity of labour which they will purchase or command, gradually rises, till at last it gets so high as to render them as profitable a produce as any thing else which human industry can raise upon the most fertile and best cultivated land. When it has got so high, it cannot well go higher. If it did, more land and more industry would soon be employed to increase their quantity.
When the price of cattle, for example, rises so high, that it is as profitable to cultivate land in order to raise food for them as in order to raise food for man, it cannot well go higher. If it did, more corn land would soon be turned into pasture. The extension of tillage, by diminishing the quantity of wild pasture, diminishes the quantity of butcher’s meat, which the country naturally produces without labour or cultivation; and, by increasing the number of those who have either corn, or, what comes to the same thing, the price of corn, to give in exchange for it, increases the demand. The price of butcher’s meat, therefore, and, consequently, of cattle, must gradually rise, till it gets so high, that it becomes as profitable to employ the most fertile and best cultivated lands in raising food for them as in raising corn. But it must always be late in the progress of improvement before tillage can be so far extended as to raise the price of cattle to this height; and, till it has got to this height, if the country is advancing at all, their price must be continually rising. There are, perhaps, some parts of Europe in which the price of cattle has not yet got to this height. It had not got to this height in any part of Scotland before the Union. Had the Scotch cattle been always confined to the market of Scotland, in a country in which the quantity of land, which can be applied to no other purpose but the feeding of cattle, is so great in proportion to what can be applied to other purposes, it is scarce possible, perhaps, that their price could ever have risen so high as to render it profitable to cultivate land for the sake of feeding them. In England, the price of cattle, it has already been observed, seems, in the neighbourhood of London, to have got to this height about the beginning of the last century; but it was much later, probably, before it got through the greater part of the remoter counties, in some of which, perhaps, it may scarce yet have got to it. Of all the different substances, however, which compose this second sort of rude produce, cattle is, perhaps, that of which the price, in the progress of improvement, rises first to this height.
Till the price of cattle, indeed, has got to this height, it seems scarce possible that the greater part, even of those lands which are capable of the highest cultivation, can be completely cultivated. In all farms too distant from any town to carry manure from it, that is, in the far greater part of those of every extensive country, the quantity of well cultivated land must be in proportion to the quantity of manure which the farm itself produces; and this, again, must be in proportion to the stock of cattle which are maintained upon it. The land is manured, either by pasturing the cattle upon it, or by feeding them in the stable, and from thence carrying out their dung to it. But unless the price of the cattle be sufficient to pay both the rent and profit of cultivated land, the farmer cannot afford to pasture them upon it; and he can still less afford to feed them in the stable. It is with the produce of improved and cultivated land only that cattle can be fed in the stable; because, to collect the scanty and scattered produce of waste and unimproved lands, would require too much labour, and be too expensive. If the price of the cattle, therefore, is not sufficient to pay for the produce of improved and cultivated land, when they are allowed to pasture it, that price will be still less sufficient to pay for that produce, when it must be collected with a good deal of additional labour, and brought into the stable to them. In these circumstances, therefore, no more cattle can with profit be fed in the stable than what are necessary for tillage. But these can never afford manure enough for keeping constantly in good condition all the lands which they are capable of cultivating. What they afford, being insufficient for the whole farm, will naturally be reserved for the lands to which it can be most advantageously or conveniently applied; the most fertile, or those, perhaps, in the neighbourhood of the farm-yard. These, therefore, will be kept constantly in good condition, and fit for tillage. The rest will, the greater part of them, be allowed to lie waste, producing scarce any thing but some miserable pasture, just sufficient to keep alive a few straggling, half-starved cattle; the farm, though much overstocked in proportion to what would be necessary for its complete cultivation, being very frequently overstocked in proportion to its actual produce. A portion of this waste land, however, after having been pastured in this wretched manner for six or seven years together, may be ploughed up, when it will yield, perhaps, a poor crop or two of bad oats, or of some other coarse grain; and then, being entirely exhausted, it must be rested and pastured again as before, and another portion ploughed up, to be in the same manner exhausted and rested again in its turn. Such, accordingly, was the general system of management all over the low country of Scotland before the Union. The lands which were kept constantly well manured and in good condition seldom exceeded a third or fourth part of the whole farm, and sometimes did not amount to a fifth or a sixth part of it. The rest were never manured, but a certain portion of them was in its turn, notwithstanding, regularly cultivated and exhausted. Under this system of management, it is evident, even that part of the lands of Scotland which is capable of good cultivation, could produce but little in comparison of what it may be capable of producing. But how disadvantageous soever this system may appear, yet, before the Union, the low price of cattle seems to have rendered it almost unavoidable. If, notwithstanding a great rise in the price, it still continues to prevail through a considerable part of the country, it is owing in many places, no doubt, to ignorance and attachment to old customs, but, in most places, to the unavoidable obstructions which the natural course of things opposes to the immediate or speedy establishment of a better system: first, to the poverty of the tenants, to their not having yet had time to acquire a stock of cattle sufficient to cultivate their lands more completely, the same rise of price, which would render it advantageous for them to maintain a greater stock, rendering it more difficult for them to acquire it; and, secondly, to their not having yet had time to put their lands in condition to maintain this greater stock properly, supposing they were capable of acquiring it. The increase of stock and the improvement of land are two events which must go hand in hand, and of which the one can nowhere much outrun the other. Without some increase of stock, there can be scarce any improvement of land, but there can be no considerable increase of stock, but in consequence of a considerable improvement of land; because otherwise the land could not maintain it. These natural obstructions to the establishment of a better system, cannot be removed but by a long course of frugality and industry; and half a century or a century more, perhaps, must pass away before the old system, which is wearing out gradually, can be completely abolished through all the different parts of the country. Of all the commercial advantages, however, which Scotland has derived from the Union with England, this rise in the price of cattle is, perhaps, the greatest. It has not only raised the value of all highland estates, but it has, perhaps, been the principal cause of the improvement of the low country.
In all new colonies, the great quantity of waste land, which can for many years be applied to no other purpose but the feeding of cattle, soon renders them extremely abundant; and in every thing great cheapness is the necessary consequence of great abundance. Though all the cattle of the European colonies in America were originally carried from Europe, they soon multiplied so much there, and became of so little value, that even horses were allowed to run wild in the woods, without any owner thinking it worth while to claim them. It must be a long time after the first establishment of such colonies, before it can become profitable to feed cattle upon the produce of cultivated land. The same causes, therefore, the want of manure, and the disproportion between the stock employed in cultivation and the land which it is destined to cultivate, are likely to introduce there a system of husbandry, not unlike that which still continues to take place in so many parts of Scotland. Mr Kalm, the Swedish traveller, when he gives an account of the husbandry of some of the English colonies in North America, as he found it in 1749, observes, accordingly, that he can with difficulty discover there the character of the English nation, so well skilled in all the different branches of agriculture. They make scarce any manure for their corn fields, he says; but when one piece of ground has been exhausted by continual cropping, they clear and cultivate another piece of fresh land; and when that is exhausted, proceed to a third. Their cattle are allowed to wander through the woods and other uncultivated grounds, where they are half-starved; having long ago extirpated almost all the annual grasses, by cropping them too early in the spring, before they had time to form their flowers, or to shed their seeds. {Kalm’s Travels, vol 1, pp. 343, 344.} The annual grasses were, it seems, the best natural grasses in that part of North America; and when the Europeans first settled there, they used to grow very thick, and to rise three or four feet high. A piece of ground which, when he wrote, could not maintain one cow, would in former times, he was assured, have maintained four, each of which would have given four times the quantity of milk which that one was capable of giving. The poorness of the pasture had, in his opinion, occasioned the degradation of their cattle, which degenerated sensibly from one generation to another. They were probably not unlike that stunted breed which was common all over Scotland thirty or forty years ago, and which is now so much mended through the greater part of the low country, not so much by a change of the breed, though that expedient has been employed in some places, as by a more plentiful method of feeding them.
English
First Kind.—The first kind of raw produce whose price rises as improvement advances is that which human industry can scarcely multiply at all. It consists of things nature produces only in limited quantities and which are so perishable that the yields of many seasons cannot be accumulated. Such are most rare and unusual birds and fishes, many kinds of game, nearly all wildfowl, especially migratory birds, and many other things. As wealth and its attendant luxury grow, demand for these things is likely to grow too, while no human effort may be able to increase the supply much beyond its former level. Their quantity remaining the same or nearly so while competition among buyers steadily grows, their price may rise to any extravagance, seemingly without definite limit. If woodcocks became so fashionable that they sold for twenty guineas a-piece, human industry could do little to increase the number brought to market beyond the present supply. The high prices the Romans paid for rare birds and fishes at the height of their grandeur can readily be explained in this way. Those prices reflected not the low value of silver then, but the high value of rarities and curiosities that industry could not multiply at will. For some time before and after the fall of the republic, the real value of silver in Rome was higher than it is in most of Europe today. The republic paid three sestertii, equivalent to about sixpence sterling, for a modius or peck of Sicilian tithe wheat. This was probably below the average market price, however, since the obligation to deliver wheat at that rate was regarded as a tax on Sicilian farmers. When the Romans ordered more corn than the wheat tithe supplied, therefore, their agreement bound them to pay four sestertii, or eightpence sterling a peck, for the surplus. This was probably considered the moderate, reasonable, ordinary or average contract price of the time; it is equivalent to about one-and-twenty shillings a quarter. Before the recent years of scarcity, eight-and-twenty shillings a quarter was the ordinary contract price of English wheat, which was inferior in quality to Sicilian wheat and generally sold for less in the European market. Silver’s value in those ancient times must therefore have stood to its present value inversely as three to four: three ounces of silver then bought the same labor and commodities that four ounces buy now. When we read in Pliny that Seius [Lib. X, c. 29.] bought a white nightingale as a gift for the empress Agrippina for six thousand sestertii, equivalent to about fifty pounds in our present money, and that Asinius Celer [Lib. IX, c. 17.] bought a surmullet for eight thousand sestertii, equivalent to about sixty-six pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence in our present money, those astonishing prices are apt to strike us as about one third less extravagant than they actually were. Their real price—the labor and subsistence exchanged for them—was about one-third more than their nominal price now suggests. For the nightingale Seius paid the command of as much labor and subsistence as £ 66:13: 4d. would buy today; for the surmullet Asinius Celer paid the command of as much as £ 88:17: 9d. would buy. Those extravagant prices arose less from an abundance of silver than from the labor and subsistence at the Romans’ disposal beyond what they themselves needed. They controlled considerably less silver than the same command of labor and subsistence would procure for them today.
Second Kind.—The second kind of raw produce whose price rises as improvement advances is that which human industry can multiply in proportion to demand. It consists of useful plants and animals that nature produces so abundantly in uncultivated countries that they have little or no value and must give way to more profitable produce as cultivation spreads. For a long period during improvement, their quantity steadily diminishes while demand steadily increases. Their real value—the amount of labor they will buy or command—therefore gradually rises, until they become as profitable to produce as anything else industry can raise on the richest and best-cultivated land. Once that height is reached, the price can hardly rise further. If it did, more land and labor would soon be devoted to increasing their supply.
When cattle, for example, become so dear that cultivating land to grow their feed is as profitable as cultivating it to grow food for people, their price can hardly rise further. If it did, more corn land would soon become pasture. By reducing wild pasture, the extension of tillage reduces the butcher’s meat the country naturally produces without labor or cultivation. At the same time, by increasing the number of people able to exchange either corn or its price for meat, it increases demand. The price of butcher’s meat, and therefore of cattle, must gradually rise until it becomes as profitable to use the richest and best-cultivated land to feed cattle as to raise corn. Tillage can reach the extent needed to lift cattle prices so high only at a late stage of improvement; until then, if the country is advancing at all, their price must go on rising. In some parts of Europe cattle prices may not yet have reached this height. Nowhere in Scotland had they reached it before the Union. If Scottish cattle had always been limited to the Scottish market, where so much land can be used only for grazing compared with land usable for other purposes, their price could scarcely ever have risen high enough to make cultivating land for their feed profitable. In England, as noted already, cattle prices near London seem to have reached this height around the beginning of the last century. They probably reached it much later across most of the more distant counties, and in some may scarcely have reached it yet. Of all the materials in this second class of raw produce, cattle are perhaps the first whose price rises this high as improvement advances.
Indeed, until cattle prices reach this height, it seems scarcely possible to cultivate fully even most land capable of the highest cultivation. On farms too far from towns to bring in manure—that is, on most farms in any extensive country—the amount of well-cultivated land must be proportionate to the manure the farm itself produces, and this in turn to the stock of cattle kept on it. Land is manured either by grazing cattle on it or by feeding them in stables and spreading their dung on the fields. Unless cattle prices cover both the rent and the profit of cultivated land, however, the farmer cannot afford to graze them there, much less feed them in stables. Only the produce of improved and cultivated land can feed stabled cattle; gathering the scant, scattered produce of waste and unimproved land would require too much labor and expense. If cattle prices cannot pay for the produce of improved land when the cattle graze it themselves, they are still less able to pay when that produce must be gathered with considerable additional labor and carried to them in the stable. In such circumstances, no more cattle can profitably be stabled than those needed for tillage. Yet these cannot produce enough manure to keep all the land they are capable of cultivating continually in good condition. The available manure, being insufficient for the whole farm, will naturally be reserved for the land where it can be used most advantageously or conveniently—the most fertile land, perhaps, or land nearest the farmyard. This part will consequently be kept in good condition and fit for tillage. Most of the rest will lie waste, yielding little but miserable pasture sufficient to sustain a few wandering, half-starved cattle. Thus a farm very often has far too many cattle for its actual yield, although it has far too few for complete cultivation. A part of this waste land, after six or seven years of such wretched grazing, may be plowed and yield a poor crop or two of bad oats or another coarse grain. Once utterly exhausted, it must again lie fallow under grazing while another part is plowed, exhausted, and rested in turn. This was generally how the Scottish low country was farmed before the Union. The land constantly well manured and kept in good condition seldom exceeded a third or fourth of a whole farm, and sometimes was less than a fifth or a sixth. None of the rest received manure, though a portion of it was regularly cultivated and exhausted in rotation. Even Scotland’s land capable of good cultivation could plainly produce little under this system compared with its potential yield. Disadvantageous as the system appears, low cattle prices before the Union seem to have made it almost unavoidable. If it still prevails in a considerable part of the country despite the great rise in price, this is no doubt due in many places to ignorance and attachment to old customs; in most, however, it is due to the obstacles the natural course of things puts in the way of establishing a better system promptly. First, tenants are poor and have not yet had time to acquire enough cattle to cultivate their land more fully; the same rise in price that makes a larger stock worth keeping makes that stock harder to acquire. Second, even if they could acquire it, they have not yet had time to make their land fit to support it properly. An increase of stock and improvement of land must go hand in hand; neither can advance far ahead of the other. With no increase of stock there can scarcely be any improvement of land, but there can be no substantial increase of stock without substantial improvement of land, for otherwise the land could not feed it. Only a long course of thrift and industry can remove these natural obstacles to a better system. Perhaps half a century or a century more must pass before the old system, which is slowly disappearing, can be wholly abolished throughout the country. Among all the commercial benefits Scotland has gained from the Union with England, however, this rise in cattle prices is perhaps the greatest. It has increased not only the value of every highland estate, but perhaps has been the chief cause of improvement in the low country.
In every new colony, abundant waste land that can for years serve no purpose but grazing soon makes cattle extraordinarily plentiful; and great abundance necessarily makes everything very cheap. Although all the cattle in the European colonies of America originally came from Europe, they multiplied so quickly and became worth so little that even horses wandered wild through the woods, with no owner thinking it worthwhile to claim them. Long after such colonies are founded, feeding cattle on produce from cultivated land remains unprofitable. Accordingly, the same causes—a lack of manure and a mismatch between the stock used in cultivation and the land it is meant to cultivate—are likely to establish there a system of husbandry like that still found in many parts of Scotland. Describing the agriculture of certain English colonies in North America as he saw it in 1749, Mr Kalm, the Swedish traveler, accordingly remarks that he can hardly recognize in it the English nation, so expert in every branch of agriculture. They make scarcely any manure for their cornfields, he says. Instead, when repeated cropping has exhausted one plot, they clear and cultivate another fresh plot, then move on to a third when that is exhausted. Their cattle roam the woods and other uncultivated land half-starved, having long since eradicated almost all the annual grasses by eating them too early in the spring, before they could flower or shed seed. [Kalm’s Travels, vol 1, pp. 343, 344.] These annual grasses appear to have been the best native grasses in that part of North America; when Europeans first settled there, they grew densely and stood three or four feet high. Kalm was assured that a plot unable to support one cow when he wrote could once have supported four, each yielding four times as much milk as that one cow. Poor pasture had, he believed, caused their cattle to deteriorate perceptibly from generation to generation. They probably resembled the stunted breed common throughout Scotland thirty or forty years ago, now greatly improved in most of the low country—not so much by changing the breed, although that has been tried in places, as by feeding the animals more abundantly.
Book I, Chapter XI, 13
18th-century English
Though it is late, therefore, in the progress of improvement, before cattle can bring such a price as to render it profitable to cultivate land for the sake of feeding them; yet of all the different parts which compose this second sort of rude produce, they are perhaps the first which bring this price; because, till they bring it, it seems impossible that improvement can be brought near even to that degree of perfection to which it has arrived in many parts of Europe.
As cattle are among the first, so perhaps venison is among the last parts of this sort of rude produce which bring this price. The price of venison in Great Britain, how extravagant soever it may appear, is not near sufficient to compensate the expense of a deer park, as is well known to all those who have had any experience in the feeding of deer. If it was otherwise, the feeding of deer would soon become an article of common farming, in the same manner as the feeding of those small birds, called turdi, was among the ancient Romans. Varro and Columella assure us, that it was a most profitable article. The fattening of ortolans, birds of passage which arrive lean in the country, is said to be so in some parts of France. If venison continues in fashion, and the wealth and luxury of Great Britain increase as they have done for some time past, its price may very probably rise still higher than it is at present.
Between that period in the progress of improvement, which brings to its height the price of so necessary an article as cattle, and that which brings to it the price of such a superfluity as venison, there is a very long interval, in the course of which many other sorts of rude produce gradually arrive at their highest price, some sooner and some later, according to different circumstances.
Thus, in every farm, the offals of the barn and stable will maintain a certain number of poultry. These, as they are fed with what would otherwise be lost, are a mere save-all; and as they cost the farmer scarce any thing, so he can afford to sell them for very little. Almost all that he gets is pure gain, and their price can scarce be so low as to discourage him from feeding this number. But in countries ill cultivated, and therefore but thinly inhabited, the poultry, which are thus raised without expense, are often fully sufficient to supply the whole demand. In this state of things, therefore, they are often as cheap as butcher’s meat, or any other sort of animal food. But the whole quantity of poultry which the farm in this manner produces without expense, must always be much smaller than the whole quantity of butcher’s meat which is reared upon it; and in times of wealth and luxury, what is rare, with only nearly equal merit, is always preferred to what is common. As wealth and luxury increase, therefore, in consequence of improvement and cultivation, the price of poultry gradually rises above that of butcher’s meat, till at last it gets so high, that it becomes profitable to cultivate land for the sake of feeding them. When it has got to this height, it cannot well go higher. If it did, more land would soon be turned to this purpose. In several provinces of France, the feeding of poultry is considered as a very important article in rural economy, and sufficiently profitable to encourage the farmer to raise a considerable quantity of Indian corn and buckwheat for this purpose. A middling farmer will there sometimes have four hundred fowls in his yard. The feeding of poultry seems scarce yet to be generally considered as a matter of so much importance in England. They are certainly, however, dearer in England than in France, as England receives considerable supplies from France. In the progress of improvements, the period at which every particular sort of animal food is dearest, must naturally be that which immediately precedes the general practice of cultivating land for the sake of raising it. For some time before this practice becomes general, the scarcity must necessarily raise the price. After it has become general, new methods of feeding are commonly fallen upon, which enable the farmer to raise upon the same quantity of ground a much greater quantity of that particular sort of animal food. The plenty not only obliges him to sell cheaper, but, in consequence of these improvements, he can afford to sell cheaper; for if he could not afford it, the plenty would not be of long continuance. It has been probably in this manner that the introduction of clover, turnips, carrots, cabbages, etc. has contributed to sink the common price of butcher’s meat in the London market, somewhat below what it was about the beginning of the last century.
The hog, that finds his food among ordure, and greedily devours many things rejected by every other useful animal, is, like poultry, originally kept as a save-all. As long as the number of such animals, which can thus be reared at little or no expense, is fully sufficient to supply the demand, this sort of butcher’s meat comes to market at a much lower price than any other. But when the demand rises beyond what this quantity can supply, when it becomes necessary to raise food on purpose for feeding and fattening hogs, in the same manner as for feeding and fattening other cattle, the price necessarily rises, and becomes proportionably either higher or lower than that of other butcher’s meat, according as the nature of the country, and the state of its agriculture, happen to render the feeding of hogs more or less expensive than that of other cattle. In France, according to Mr Buffon, the price of pork is nearly equal to that of beef. In most parts of Great Britain it is at present somewhat higher.
The great rise in the price both of hogs and poultry, has, in Great Britain, been frequently imputed to the diminution of the number of cottagers and other small occupiers of land; an event which has in every part of Europe been the immediate forerunner of improvement and better cultivation, but which at the same time may have contributed to raise the price of those articles, both somewhat sooner and somewhat faster than it would otherwise have risen. As the poorest family can often maintain a cat or a dog without any expense, so the poorest occupiers of land can commonly maintain a few poultry, or a sow and a few pigs, at very little. The little offals of their own table, their whey, skimmed milk, and butter milk, supply those animals with a part of their food, and they find the rest in the neighbouring fields, without doing any sensible damage to any body. By diminishing the number of those small occupiers, therefore, the quantity of this sort of provisions, which is thus produced at little or no expense, must certainly have been a good deal diminished, and their price must consequently have been raised both sooner and faster than it would otherwise have risen. Sooner or later, however, in the progress of improvement, it must at any rate have risen to the utmost height to which it is capable of rising; or to the price which pays the labour and expense of cultivating the land which furnishes them with food, as well as these are paid upon the greater part of other cultivated land.
The business of the dairy, like the feeding of hogs and poultry, is originally carried on as a save-all. The cattle necessarily kept upon the farm produce more milk than either the rearing of their own young, or the consumption of the farmer’s family requires; and they produce most at one particular season. But of all the productions of land, milk is perhaps the most perishable. In the warm season, when it is most abundant, it will scarce keep four-and-twenty hours. The farmer, by making it into fresh butter, stores a small part of it for a week; by making it into salt butter, for a year; and by making it into cheese, he stores a much greater part of it for several years. Part of all these is reserved for the use of his own family; the rest goes to market, in order to find the best price which is to be had, and which can scarce be so low is to discourage him from sending thither whatever is over and above the use of his own family. If it is very low indeed, he will be likely to manage his dairy in a very slovenly and dirty manner, and will scarce, perhaps, think it worth while to have a particular room or building on purpose for it, but will suffer the business to be carried on amidst the smoke, filth, and nastiness of his own kitchen, as was the case of almost all the farmers’ dairies in Scotland thirty or forty years ago, and as is the case of many of them still. The same causes which gradually raise the price of butcher’s meat, the increase of the demand, and, in consequence of the improvement of the country, the diminution of the quantity which can be fed at little or no expense, raise, in the same manner, that of the produce of the dairy, of which the price naturally connects with that of butcher’s meat, or with the expense of feeding cattle. The increase of price pays for more labour, care, and cleanliness. The dairy becomes more worthy of the farmer’s attention, and the quality of its produce gradually improves. The price at last gets so high, that it becomes worth while to employ some of the most fertile and best cultivated lands in feeding cattle merely for the purpose of the dairy; and when it has got to this height, it cannot well go higher. If it did, more land would soon be turned to this purpose. It seems to have got to this height through the greater part of England, where much good land is commonly employed in this manner. If you except the neighbourhood of a few considerable towns, it seems not yet to have got to this height anywhere in Scotland, where common farmers seldom employ much good land in raising food for cattle, merely for the purpose of the dairy. The price of the produce, though it has risen very considerably within these few years, is probably still too low to admit of it. The inferiority of the quality, indeed, compared with that of the produce of English dairies, is fully equal to that of the price. But this inferiority of quality is, perhaps, rather the effect of this lowness of price, than the cause of it. Though the quality was much better, the greater part of what is brought to market could not, I apprehend, in the present circumstances of the country, be disposed of at a much better price; and the present price, it is probable, would not pay the expense of the land and labour necessary for producing a much better quality. Through the greater part of England, notwithstanding the superiority of price, the dairy is not reckoned a more profitable employment of land than the raising of corn, or the fattening of cattle, the two great objects of agriculture. Through the greater part of Scotland, therefore, it cannot yet be even so profitable.
The lands of no country, it is evident, can ever be completely cultivated and improved, till once the price of every produce, which human industry is obliged to raise upon them, has got so high as to pay for the expense of complete improvement and cultivation. In order to do this, the price of each particular produce must be sufficient, first, to pay the rent of good corn land, as it is that which regulates the rent of the greater part of other cultivated land; and, secondly, to pay the labour and expense of the farmer, as well as they are commonly paid upon good corn land; or, in other words, to replace with the ordinary profits the stock which he employs about it. This rise in the price of each particular produce; must evidently be previous to the improvement and cultivation of the land which is destined for raising it. Gain is the end of all improvement; and nothing could deserve that name, of which loss was to be the necessary consequence. But loss must be the necessary consequence of improving land for the sake of a produce of which the price could never bring back the expense. If the complete improvement and cultivation of the country be, as it most certainly is, the greatest of all public advantages, this rise in the price of all those different sorts of rude produce, instead of being considered as a public calamity, ought to be regarded as the necessary forerunner and attendant of the greatest of all public advantages.
This rise, too, in the nominal or money price of all those different sorts of rude produce, has been the effect, not of any degradation in the value of silver, but of a rise in their real price. They have become worth, not only a greater quantity of silver, but a greater quantity of labour and subsistence than before. As it costs a greater quantity of labour and subsistence to bring them to market, so, when they are brought thither they represent, or are equivalent to a greater quantity.
Third Sort.—The third and last sort of rude produce, of which the price naturally rises in the progress of improvement, is that in which the efficacy of human industry, in augmenting the quantity, is either limited or uncertain. Though the real price of this sort of rude produce, therefore, naturally tends to rise in the progress of improvement, yet, according as different accidents happen to render the efforts of human industry more or less successful in augmenting the quantity, it may happen sometimes even to fall, sometimes to continue the same, in very different periods of improvement, and sometimes to rise more or less in the same period.
There are some sorts of rude produce which nature has rendered a kind of appendages to other sorts; so that the quantity of the one which any country can afford, is necessarily limited by that of the other. The quantity of wool or of raw hides, for example, which any country can afford, is necessarily limited by the number of great and small cattle that are kept in it. The state of its improvement, and the nature of its agriculture, again necessarily determine this number.
The same causes which, in the progress of improvement, gradually raise the price of butcher’s meat, should have the same effect, it may be thought, upon the prices of wool and raw hides, and raise them, too, nearly in the same proportion. It probably would be so, if, in the rude beginnings of improvement, the market for the latter commodities was confined within as narrow bounds as that for the former. But the extent of their respective markets is commonly extremely different.
The market for butcher’s meat is almost everywhere confined to the country which produces it. Ireland, and some part of British America, indeed, carry on a considerable trade in salt provisions; but they are, I believe, the only countries in the commercial world which do so, or which export to other countries any considerable part of their butcher’s meat.
The market for wool and raw hides, on the contrary, is, in the rude beginnings of improvement, very seldom confined to the country which produces them. They can easily be transported to distant countries; wool without any preparation, and raw hides with very little; and as they are the materials of many manufactures, the industry of other countries may occasion a demand for them, though that of the country which produces them might not occasion any.
English
Although improvement must therefore be well advanced before cattle command a price high enough to make it profitable to cultivate land to feed them, they are perhaps the first among all the products in this second class to reach that price. Until they do, it seems impossible for improvement to approach even the degree of perfection attained in many parts of Europe.
If cattle are among the first, venison is perhaps among the last in this class to reach that price. Extravagant as the price of venison in Great Britain may seem, it comes nowhere near covering the cost of a deer park, as everyone experienced in keeping deer knows. Otherwise deer keeping would soon become an ordinary branch of farming, just as the rearing of small birds called turdi was among the ancient Romans. Varro and Columella assure us it was highly profitable. Fattening ortolans, migratory birds that arrive in the country lean, is said to be profitable in some parts of France. If venison stays fashionable while Britain’s wealth and luxury continue to grow as they have lately, its price may very well rise higher still.
A long interval separates the stage of improvement when an essential commodity such as cattle reaches its highest price from the stage when a luxury such as venison does. During that interval, many other kinds of raw produce gradually reach their highest prices, some earlier and some later, according to circumstances.
On every farm, for example, the scraps from barn and stable will support a certain number of poultry. Since they feed on what would otherwise be wasted, they serve to salvage those scraps; costing the farmer almost nothing, they can be sold very cheaply. Nearly everything he receives is pure gain, and the price can scarcely be so low that it discourages him from keeping that number. In poorly cultivated and therefore sparsely inhabited countries, however, poultry raised at no expense often suffice to meet the entire demand. They are then often as cheap as butcher’s meat or any other animal food. Yet the total amount of poultry a farm can raise at no expense must always be much smaller than the amount of butcher’s meat it can produce. In wealthy and luxurious times, what is rare is always preferred to what is common if it is nearly as desirable. As wealth and luxury grow with improvement and cultivation, poultry therefore gradually becomes dearer than butcher’s meat, until its price makes it profitable to cultivate land to feed the birds. Once the price reaches this height it can hardly rise further; if it did, more land would soon be put to that use. In several French provinces, raising poultry is considered a very important part of rural economy, profitable enough to encourage a farmer to grow a considerable amount of Indian corn and buckwheat for feed. A farmer of moderate means there will sometimes have four hundred fowls in his yard. Poultry raising seems not yet to be generally considered so important in England. The birds are certainly dearer there than in France, however, since England imports considerable supplies from France. As improvement advances, the time when any particular kind of animal food is dearest must naturally come immediately before cultivating land specifically to produce it becomes general practice. For some time before that practice spreads, scarcity must drive up its price. Once it becomes general, new methods of feeding are usually devised that allow the farmer to produce much more of that food on the same amount of land. Abundance compels him to sell more cheaply, while these improvements also enable him to do so; without that ability, the abundance could not last. It was probably in this way that the introduction of clover, turnips, carrots, cabbages, etc. helped lower the ordinary price of butcher’s meat in the London market somewhat below its level around the beginning of the last century.
The hog, which forages in filth and eagerly eats much that every other useful animal refuses, is at first kept, like poultry, to consume what would otherwise be wasted. While the animals that can be raised at little or no expense in this way suffice to meet demand, their meat reaches market much more cheaply than any other butcher’s meat. But once demand exceeds this supply, food must be grown expressly to feed and fatten hogs, as it is for other cattle. Their price then necessarily rises, becoming proportionately higher or lower than the price of other butcher’s meat according to whether the country’s natural conditions and state of agriculture make hog feeding more or less expensive than feeding other cattle. According to Mr Buffon, pork in France costs nearly as much as beef. In most parts of Great Britain it now costs somewhat more.
In Great Britain, the great rise in the price of hogs and poultry has often been attributed to the decline in the number of cottagers and other small landholders. This change has immediately preceded improvement and better cultivation throughout Europe; at the same time, it may have made those foods dearer both earlier and more rapidly than they otherwise would have become. Just as even the poorest family can often keep a cat or dog at no expense, the poorest landholders can usually keep a few poultry, or a sow and a few pigs, at very little expense. Their table scraps, whey, skimmed milk, and buttermilk provide part of the animals’ food; they find the rest in neighboring fields without causing anyone appreciable harm. The decline of these small landholders must therefore have substantially reduced the supply of food thus produced at little or no expense, driving up its price earlier and faster than otherwise. Sooner or later, however, improvement would in any case have raised that price to the highest point it can reach: the level that pays for the labor and cost of cultivating the land that feeds the animals as well as such costs are paid on most other cultivated land.
Dairy farming, like the keeping of hogs and poultry, begins as a way to make use of what would otherwise be wasted. Cattle necessarily kept on a farm produce more milk than is needed to rear their young or feed the farmer’s family, and their yield is greatest in one particular season. Of all the land’s products, however, milk is perhaps the most perishable. In warm weather, when it is most plentiful, it will scarcely keep four-and-twenty hours. By making fresh butter, the farmer preserves a small share for a week; by making salted butter, for a year; and by making cheese, a much larger share for several years. Some of each is kept for his family; the remainder goes to market for the best obtainable price, which can scarcely be so low that he will not send what the family does not use. If it is very low, he is likely to run his dairy carelessly and filthily, perhaps not even thinking a separate room or building worthwhile, but allowing the work to go on amid the smoke, dirt, and squalor of his kitchen. This was true of almost every Scottish farmer’s dairy thirty or forty years ago, and remains true of many. The causes that gradually raise the price of butcher’s meat—growing demand and, as the country improves, a declining supply of animals fed at little or no expense—similarly raise the price of dairy produce, naturally linked to that of meat and to the cost of feeding cattle. The higher price pays for more labor, care, and cleanliness. The dairy becomes more deserving of the farmer’s attention, and the quality of its produce gradually improves. Eventually the price makes it worthwhile to devote some of the richest and best-cultivated land to keeping cattle solely for the dairy; once it reaches that height it can hardly rise further. If it did, more land would soon be devoted to this use. It seems to have reached this height in most of England, where much good land is commonly used this way. Outside the neighborhoods of a few large towns, it seems nowhere in Scotland to have reached it yet: ordinary farmers there seldom use much good land to grow cattle feed solely for dairy production. Though dairy prices have risen considerably in recent years, they are probably still too low to allow this. Scottish dairy produce is indeed as inferior to English in quality as it is lower in price. But that inferior quality may be an effect rather than a cause of the low price. Even if the quality were much better, I think most of what comes to market could not, under the country’s present circumstances, be sold for much more; the present price probably would not cover the land and labor needed for much better produce. Despite its higher price, dairy farming in most of England is not considered a more profitable use of land than growing corn or fattening cattle, the two great pursuits of agriculture. In most of Scotland, then, it cannot yet be even as profitable.
Clearly, no country’s land can be fully cultivated and improved until the price of every product that industry must raise on it is high enough to cover the cost of thorough improvement and cultivation. To do so, each product’s price must first pay the rent of good corn land, which governs the rent of most other cultivated land; and second pay the farmer’s labor and expenses as well as they are usually paid on good corn land—or, in other words, replace the stock he uses with the ordinary profit. This rise in each product’s price must plainly precede the improvement and cultivation of the land intended to produce it. Gain is the purpose of every improvement; nothing that necessarily brings a loss deserves the name. Yet cultivating land for a product whose price cannot recover the expense must necessarily bring a loss. If the complete cultivation and improvement of a country is, as it certainly is, the greatest public benefit, the rising price of these different kinds of raw produce should be seen not as a public calamity but as the necessary precursor and companion of that greatest of public benefits.
Nor has this rise in the nominal, or money, price of these kinds of raw produce resulted from a decline in silver’s value. It reflects a rise in their real price. They are worth more labor and subsistence than before, not just more silver. Bringing them to market costs more labor and subsistence, and when brought there they represent, or are equivalent to, more of both.
Third Kind.—The third and last kind of raw produce whose price naturally rises with improvement consists of things for which human industry can increase the supply only with limited or uncertain success. Although their real price thus naturally tends upward as improvement advances, at different stages of improvement it may fall, remain unchanged, or rise to varying degrees, depending on circumstances that make industry more or less successful in enlarging their supply.
Nature has made certain kinds of raw produce dependent, as it were, on other kinds, so that a country’s supply of one must be limited by its supply of the other. The wool and raw hides any country can supply, for example, are necessarily limited by the number of large and small cattle it keeps. That number, in turn, is necessarily determined by the state of its improvement and the nature of its agriculture.
One might suppose that the causes which gradually raise the price of butcher’s meat as improvement advances would have much the same effect on wool and raw hides, raising their prices nearly in the same proportion. They probably would, if the market for wool and hides were as narrowly confined in the early stages of improvement as the market for meat. But their markets ordinarily extend over very different areas.
The market for butcher’s meat is almost everywhere restricted to the country producing it. Ireland and part of British America do conduct a considerable trade in salted provisions; but these are, I believe, the only countries in the commercial world that do so, or that export any substantial share of their butcher’s meat.
By contrast, the market for wool and raw hides is very seldom confined to their country of origin even in the earliest stages of improvement. They can readily be shipped to distant countries—wool without preparation, raw hides with very little. Since they furnish materials for many manufactures, industry abroad may create demand for them even when industry at home does not.
Book I, Chapter XI, 14
18th-century English
In countries ill cultivated, and therefore but thinly inhabited, the price of the wool and the hide bears always a much greater proportion to that of the whole beast, than in countries where, improvement and population being further advanced, there is more demand for butcher’s meat. Mr Hume observes, that in the Saxon times, the fleece was estimated at two-fifths of the value of the whole sheep and that this was much above the proportion of its present estimation. In some provinces of Spain, I have been assured, the sheep is frequently killed merely for the sake of the fleece and the tallow. The carcase is often left to rot upon the ground, or to be devoured by beasts and birds of prey. If this sometimes happens even in Spain, it happens almost constantly in Chili, at Buenos Ayres, and in many other parts of Spanish America, where the horned cattle are almost constantly killed merely for the sake of the hide and the tallow. This, too, used to happen almost constantly in Hispaniola, while it was infested by the buccaneers, and before the settlement, improvement, and populousness of the French plantations ( which now extend round the coast of almost the whole western half of the island) had given some value to the cattle of the Spaniards, who still continue to possess, not only the eastern part of the coast, but the whole inland mountainous part of the country.
Though, in the progress of improvement and population, the price of the whole beast necessarily rises, yet the price of the carcase is likely to be much more affected by this rise than that of the wool and the hide. The market for the carcase being in the rude state of society confined always to the country which produces it, must necessarily be extended in proportion to the improvement and population of that country. But the market for the wool and the hides, even of a barbarous country, often extending to the whole commercial world, it can very seldom be enlarged in the same proportion. The state of the whole commercial world can seldom be much affected by the improvement of any particular country; and the market for such commodities may remain the same, or very nearly the same, after such improvements, as before. It should, however, in the natural course of things, rather, upon the whole, be somewhat extended in consequence of them. If the manufactures, especially, of which those commodities are the materials, should ever come to flourish in the country, the market, though it might not be much enlarged, would at least be brought much nearer to the place of growth than before; and the price of those materials might at least be increased by what had usually been the expense of transporting them to distant countries. Though it might not rise, therefore, in the same proportion as that of butcher’s meat, it ought naturally to rise somewhat, and it ought certainly not to fall.
In England, however, notwithstanding the flourishing state of its woollen manufacture, the price of English wool has fallen very considerably since the time of Edward III. There are many authentic records which demonstrate that, during the reign of that prince (towards the middle of the fourteenth century, or about 1339), what was reckoned the moderate and reasonable price of the tod, or twenty-eight pounds of English wool, was not less than ten shillings of the money of those times {See Smith’s Memoirs of Wool, vol. i c. 5, 6, 7. also vol. ii.}, containing, at the rate of twenty-pence the ounce, six ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to about thirty shillings of our present money. In the present times, one-and-twenty shillings the tod may be reckoned a good price for very good English wool. The money price of wool, therefore, in the time of Edward III. was to its money price in the present times as ten to seven. The superiority of its real price was still greater. At the rate of six shillings and eightpence the quarter, ten shillings was in those ancient times the price of twelve bushels of wheat. At the rate of twenty-eight shillings the quarter, one-and-twenty shillings is in the present times the price of six bushels only. The proportion between the real price of ancient and modern times, therefore, is as twelve to six, or as two to one. In those ancient times, a tod of wool would have purchased twice the quantity of subsistence which it will purchase at present, and consequently twice the quantity of labour, if the real recompence of labour had been the same in both periods.
This degradation, both in the real and nominal value of wool, could never have happened in consequence of the natural course of things. It has accordingly been the effect of violence and artifice. First, of the absolute prohibition of exporting wool from England: secondly, of the permission of importing it from Spain, duty free: thirdly, of the prohibition of exporting it from Ireland to another country but England. In consequence of these regulations, the market for English wool, instead of being somewhat extended, in consequence of the improvement of England, has been confined to the home market, where the wool of several other countries is allowed to come into competition with it, and where that of Ireland is forced into competition with it. As the woollen manufactures, too, of Ireland, are fully as much discouraged as is consistent with justice and fair dealing, the Irish can work up but a smaller part of their own wool at home, and are therefore obliged to send a greater proportion of it to Great Britain, the only market they are allowed.
I have not been able to find any such authentic records concerning the price of raw hides in ancient times. Wool was commonly paid as a subsidy to the king, and its valuation in that subsidy ascertains, at least in some degree, what was its ordinary price. But this seems not to have been the case with raw hides. Fleetwood, however, from an account in 1425, between the prior of Burcester Oxford and one of his canons, gives us their price, at least as it was stated upon that particular occasion, viz. five ox hides at twelve shillings; five cow hides at seven shillings and threepence; thirtysix sheep skins of two years old at nine shillings; sixteen calf skins at two shillings. In 1425, twelve shillings contained about the same quantity of silver as four-and-twenty shillings of our present money. An ox hide, therefore, was in this account valued at the same quantity of silver as 4s. ⅘ths of our present money. Its nominal price was a good deal lower than at present. But at the rate of six shillings and eightpence the quarter, twelve shillings would in those times have purchased fourteen bushels and four-fifths of a bushel of wheat, which, at three and sixpence the bushel, would in the present times cost 51s. 4d. An ox hide, therefore, would in those times have purchased as much corn as ten shillings and threepence would purchase at present. Its real value was equal to ten shillings and threepence of our present money. In those ancient times, when the cattle were half starved during the greater part of the winter, we cannot suppose that they were of a very large size. An ox hide which weighs four stone of sixteen pounds of avoirdupois, is not in the present times reckoned a bad one; and in those ancient times would probably have been reckoned a very good one. But at half-a-crown the stone, which at this moment (February 1773) I understand to be the common price, such a hide would at present cost only ten shillings. Through its nominal price, therefore, is higher in the present than it was in those ancient times, its real price, the real quantity of subsistence which it will purchase or command, is rather somewhat lower. The price of cow hides, as stated in the above account, is nearly in the common proportion to that of ox hides. That of sheep skins is a good deal above it. They had probably been sold with the wool. That of calves skins, on the contrary, is greatly below it. In countries where the price of cattle is very low, the calves, which are not intended to be reared in order to keep up the stock, are generally killed very young, as was the case in Scotland twenty or thirty years ago. It saves the milk, which their price would not pay for. Their skins, therefore, are commonly good for little.
The price of raw hides is a good deal lower at present than it was a few years ago; owing probably to the taking off the duty upon seal skins, and to the allowing, for a limited time, the importation of raw hides from Ireland, and from the plantations, duty free, which was done in 1769. Take the whole of the present century at an average, their real price has probably been somewhat higher than it was in those ancient times. The nature of the commodity renders it not quite so proper for being transported to distant markets as wool. It suffers more by keeping. A salted hide is reckoned inferior to a fresh one, and sells for a lower price. This circumstance must necessarily have some tendency to sink the price of raw hides produced in a country which does not manufacture them, but is obliged to export them, and comparatively to raise that of those produced in a country which does manufacture them. It must have some tendency to sink their price in a barbarous, and to raise it in an improved and manufacturing country. It must have had some tendency, therefore, to sink it in ancient, and to raise it in modern times. Our tanners, besides, have not been quite so successful as our clothiers, in convincing the wisdom of the nation, that the safety of the commonwealth depends upon the prosperity of their particular manufacture. They have accordingly been much less favoured. The exportation of raw hides has, indeed, been prohibited, and declared a nuisance; but their importation from foreign countries has been subjected to a duty; and though this duty has been taken off from those of Ireland and the plantations (for the limited time of five years only), yet Ireland has not been confined to the market of Great Britain for the sale of its surplus hides, or of those which are not manufactured at home. The hides of common cattle have, but within these few years, been put among the enumerated commodities which the plantations can send nowhere but to the mother country; neither has the commerce of Ireland been in this case oppressed hitherto, in order to support the manufactures of Great Britain.
Whatever regulations tend to sink the price, either of wool or of raw hides, below what it naturally would be, must, in an improved and cultivated country, have some tendency to raise the price of butcher’s meat. The price both of the great and small cattle, which are fed on improved and cultivated land, must be sufficient to pay the rent which the landlord, and the profit which the farmer, has reason to expect from improved and cultivated land. If it is not, they will soon cease to feed them. Whatever part of this price, therefore, is not paid by the wool and the hide, must be paid by the carcase. The less there is paid for the one, the more must be paid for the other. In what manner this price is to be divided upon the different parts of the beast, is indifferent to the landlords and farmers, provided it is all paid to them. In an improved and cultivated country, therefore, their interest as landlords and farmers cannot be much affected by such regulations, though their interest as consumers may, by the rise in the price of provisions. It would be quite otherwise, however, in an unimproved and uncultivated country, where the greater part of the lands could be applied to no other purpose but the feeding of cattle, and where the wool and the hide made the principal part of the value of those cattle. Their interest as landlords and farmers would in this case be very deeply affected by such regulations, and their interest as consumers very little. The fall in the price of the wool and the hide would not in this case raise the price of the carcase; because the greater part of the lands of the country being applicable to no other purpose but the feeding of cattle, the same number would still continue to be fed. The same quantity of butcher’s meat would still come to market. The demand for it would be no greater than before. Its price, therefore, would be the same as before. The whole price of cattle would fall, and along with it both the rent and the profit of all those lands of which cattle was the principal produce, that is, of the greater part of the lands of the country. The perpetual prohibition of the exportation of wool, which is commonly, but very falsely, ascribed to Edward III., would, in the then circumstances of the country, have been the most destructive regulation which could well have been thought of. It would not only have reduced the actual value of the greater part of the lands in the kingdom, but by reducing the price of the most important species of small cattle, it would have retarded very much its subsequent improvement.
The wool of Scotland fell very considerably in its price in consequence of the union with England, by which it was excluded from the great market of Europe, and confined to the narrow one of Great Britain. The value of the greater part of the lands in the southern counties of Scotland, which are chiefly a sheep country, would have been very deeply affected by this event, had not the rise in the price of butcher’s meat fully compensated the fall in the price of wool.
As the efficacy of human industry, in increasing the quantity either of wool or of raw hides, is limited, so far as it depends upon the produce of the country where it is exerted; so it is uncertain so far as it depends upon the produce of other countries. It so far depends not so much upon the quantity which they produce, as upon that which they do not manufacture; and upon the restraints which they may or may not think proper to impose upon the exportation of this sort of rude produce. These circumstances, as they are altogether independent of domestic industry, so they necessarily render the efficacy of its efforts more or less uncertain. In multiplying this sort of rude produce, therefore, the efficacy of human industry is not only limited, but uncertain.
In multiplying another very important sort of rude produce, the quantity of fish that is brought to market, it is likewise both limited and uncertain. It is limited by the local situation of the country, by the proximity or distance of its different provinces from the sea, by the number of its lakes and rivers, and by what may be called the fertility or barrenness of those seas, lakes, and rivers, as to this sort of rude produce. As population increases, as the annual produce of the land and labour of the country grows greater and greater, there come to be more buyers of fish; and those buyers, too, have a greater quantity and variety of other goods, or, what is the same thing, the price of a greater quantity and variety of other goods, to buy with. But it will generally be impossible to supply the great and extended market, without employing a quantity of labour greater than in proportion to what had been requisite for supplying the narrow and confined one. A market which, from requiring only one thousand, comes to require annually ten thousand ton of fish, can seldom be supplied, without employing more than ten times the quantity of labour which had before been sufficient to supply it. The fish must generally be sought for at a greater distance, larger vessels must be employed, and more expensive machinery of every kind made use of. The real price of this commodity, therefore, naturally rises in the progress of improvement. It has accordingly done so, I believe, more or less in every country.
English
In countries where cultivation is poor and population therefore sparse, the price of wool and hide always makes up a much greater share of the value of the whole animal than in countries where improvement and population have advanced further and demand for butcher’s meat is greater. Mr Hume observes that in Saxon times a fleece was valued at two-fifths of the whole sheep, far above its present proportion. In some provinces of Spain, I have been told, sheep are often killed solely for their fleece and tallow. The carcass is left to rot on the ground or to be eaten by beasts and birds of prey. If this happens sometimes even in Spain, it happens almost constantly in Chili, at Buenos Ayres, and in many other parts of Spanish America, where cattle are killed almost constantly for nothing but hide and tallow. The same was once almost always true in Hispaniola, when buccaneers infested it, before the establishment, improvement, and growth of the French plantations—which now run around the coast of nearly the whole western half of the island—gave some value to the cattle of the Spaniards, who still possess not only the eastern part of the coast but the entire mountainous interior.
Although improvement and population necessarily raise the price of the whole animal, they are likely to raise the price of the carcass much more than that of wool and hide. In a primitive state of society, the market for the carcass is always confined to the country that produces it, and must expand as that country improves and grows in population. But the market for wool and hides, even from a country considered barbarous, often extends throughout the commercial world and can seldom expand in the same proportion. Improvement in any single country can rarely affect the condition of the commercial world as a whole; the market for these goods may therefore remain the same, or nearly so, after such improvement. In the natural course of things, however, improvement should on the whole extend it somewhat. If the industries that use these materials should flourish in the country itself, the market, even if it grew little, would at least be brought much closer to the place where they are produced. Their price might then rise by the amount previously spent on carrying them to distant countries. Though their price might not rise as much as that of butcher’s meat, it should naturally rise somewhat, and certainly should not fall.
In England, however, despite the flourishing woolen industry, the price of English wool has fallen considerably since the reign of Edward III. Many authentic records show that during his reign (around the middle of the fourteenth century, or about 1339), ten shillings in the money of that day was considered no more than a moderate and reasonable price for the tod, or twenty-eight pounds, of English wool [See Smith’s Memoirs of Wool, vol. i c. 5, 6, 7. also vol. ii.]. At twenty-pence an ounce, that sum contained six ounces of silver, Tower weight, equivalent to about thirty shillings in our present money. Today, one-and-twenty shillings a tod may be called a good price for very good English wool. The money price of wool in the time of Edward III. thus stood to its money price today as ten to seven. The difference in real price was greater still. At six shillings and eightpence a quarter, ten shillings would then buy twelve bushels of wheat. At twenty-eight shillings a quarter, one-and-twenty shillings today buys only six bushels. Ancient and modern real prices thus stand as twelve to six, or two to one. A tod of wool in those days would buy twice as much subsistence as it does now, and consequently twice as much labor, if the real reward of labor was the same in both periods.
This decline in both the real and nominal value of wool could never have resulted from the natural course of things. It is instead the result of coercion and contrivance: first, the absolute ban on exporting wool from England; second, permission to import wool from Spain duty-free; and third, the ban on exporting wool from Ireland to any country but England. Because of these regulations, the market for English wool has not expanded somewhat with England’s improvement, but has been confined to the home market, where wool from several other countries may compete with it and Irish wool is forced to compete with it. Moreover, since Irish woolen manufactures are discouraged as far as justice and fair dealing permit, the Irish can process only a smaller part of their wool at home and must send a greater share of it to Great Britain, the only market allowed to them.
I have found no equally authentic records of the ancient price of raw hides. Wool was commonly paid to the king as a subsidy, and the value assigned to it for that purpose indicates its ordinary price to some extent. Raw hides, it seems, were not treated in the same way. Fleetwood, however, cites an account made in 1425 between the prior of Burcester Oxford and one of his canons, which states prices for that particular occasion: five ox hides at twelve shillings; five cow hides at seven shillings and threepence; thirtysix two-year-old sheep skins at nine shillings; and sixteen calf skins at two shillings. In 1425 twelve shillings contained about as much silver as four-and-twenty shillings of our present money. An ox hide in this account was therefore valued at as much silver as 4s. ⅘ths in our present money. Its nominal price was considerably lower than it is now. But at six shillings and eightpence a quarter, twelve shillings would then buy fourteen bushels and four-fifths of a bushel of wheat, which would now cost 51s. 4d. at three and sixpence a bushel. An ox hide would thus have bought as much grain then as ten shillings and threepence would buy now. Its real value equaled ten shillings and threepence of our present money. Since cattle in those days were half-starved for most of the winter, we cannot suppose them very large. An ox hide weighing four stone of sixteen pounds avoirdupois is not considered a bad one today, and would probably have been considered a very good one then. Yet at half-a-crown a stone, which I understand to be the ordinary price at this moment (February 1773), such a hide now costs only ten shillings. Though its nominal price is higher now than in those days, its real price—the actual amount of subsistence it can buy or command—is somewhat lower. The price of cow hides in the account stands in nearly the usual proportion to that of ox hides. The price of sheep skins stands considerably above it; they were probably sold with the wool. The price of calf skins, by contrast, stands far below it. Where cattle are very cheap, calves not intended to replenish the stock are generally killed very young, as they were in Scotland twenty or thirty years ago. This saves milk that the price of the calves would not pay for. Their skins are therefore usually worth little.
Raw hides cost considerably less now than they did a few years ago, probably because the duty on seal skins was removed and raw hides were allowed to be imported duty-free from Ireland and the plantations for a limited period in 1769. Taking the present century as a whole, their real price has probably been somewhat higher than in ancient times. By its nature, a hide is less suited to transport to distant markets than wool: it deteriorates more in storage. A salted hide is considered inferior to a fresh one and sells for less. This must tend to lower the price of raw hides in a country that does not process them and must export them, and, by comparison, to raise it in a country that does process them. It tends to lower their price in a country considered barbarous and to raise it in an improved manufacturing country. It must therefore have tended to lower the price in ancient times and raise it in modern ones. Besides, our tanners have not had quite the success of our clothiers in convincing the nation’s wisdom that the safety of the commonwealth depends on the prosperity of their particular industry. They have accordingly received much less favor. The export of raw hides has indeed been banned and declared a nuisance, but their import from foreign countries has been subjected to a duty. Although this duty was removed for hides from Ireland and the plantations (for only five years), Ireland was not confined to the British market for the sale of its surplus hides, those not processed at home. Only in the past few years have the hides of ordinary cattle been placed among the enumerated goods that the plantations may send nowhere but the mother country. Nor has Ireland’s trade in hides yet been oppressed in order to support the industries of Great Britain.
Any regulation that lowers the price of wool or raw hides below its natural level must, in an improved and cultivated country, tend somewhat to raise the price of butcher’s meat. The price of both large and small livestock raised on improved cultivated land must cover the rent the landlord and the profit the farmer can reasonably expect from that land. Otherwise they will soon stop raising them. Whatever part of this price wool and hide do not pay must therefore be paid by the carcass. The less one pays, the more the other must pay. Landlords and farmers do not care how the price is divided among the animal’s parts, provided the full amount comes to them. Thus, in an improved cultivated country, regulations of this kind cannot greatly affect their interests as landlords and farmers, though rising food prices may affect their interests as consumers. In an unimproved and uncultivated country, matters are quite different. There most land can be used only to feed livestock, and wool and hide account for the chief part of their value. Such regulations would profoundly affect the interests of landlords and farmers, while barely affecting their interests as consumers. A fall in the price of wool and hide would not raise the price of the carcass there: since most of the country’s land can be used only to feed livestock, the same number of animals would still be raised. The same quantity of butcher’s meat would reach the market, with no increase in demand. Its price would therefore remain unchanged. The whole price of livestock would fall, together with both rent and profit from every tract of land whose principal product was livestock—that is, most of the country’s land. A perpetual ban on exporting wool, commonly but quite falsely attributed to Edward III., would in the circumstances of his time have been about the most destructive regulation imaginable. Besides reducing the actual value of most of the kingdom’s land, it would have greatly delayed further improvement by lowering the price of the most important kind of small livestock.
The price of Scottish wool fell considerably after union with England excluded it from the great European market and confined it to the narrow market of Great Britain. The value of most land in the southern counties of Scotland, predominantly sheep country, would have suffered deeply from this event had the rise in the price of butcher’s meat not fully made up for the fall in wool.
The effectiveness of human industry in increasing the quantity of wool or raw hides is limited insofar as it depends on the produce of the country where that industry is employed; insofar as it depends on other countries’ produce, it is uncertain. Here it depends less on how much those countries produce than on how much they leave unprocessed, and on whatever restrictions they choose to impose on exports of this sort of raw produce. Such circumstances are wholly independent of domestic industry and necessarily make the effect of its efforts more or less uncertain. In multiplying this kind of raw produce, then, human industry is not only limited in its effect but uncertain.
The effect of human industry in multiplying another important kind of raw produce—the fish brought to market—is likewise both limited and uncertain. It is limited by the country’s location; by how close or distant its provinces are from the sea; by the number of its lakes and rivers; and by the fertility or barrenness, as it were, of those seas, lakes, and rivers in fish. As population increases and the annual produce of the country’s land and labor grows, more buyers of fish appear. Those buyers also have more goods of greater variety—or their equivalent value—with which to buy. But supplying this larger market will generally require a greater increase in labor than was needed to supply the smaller one. A market whose annual demand grows from one thousand to ten thousand ton of fish can seldom be supplied without employing more than ten times as much labor. Fish generally have to be sought farther away; larger vessels and more costly equipment of every kind must be used. The real price of fish thus naturally rises as improvement advances. I believe it has done so, to some degree, in every country.
Book I, Chapter XI, 15
18th-century English
Though the success of a particular day’s fishing may be a very uncertain matter, yet the local situation of the country being supposed, the general efficacy of industry in bringing a certain quantity of fish to market, taking the course of a year, or of several years together, it may, perhaps, be thought is certain enough; and it, no doubt, is so. As it depends more, however, upon the local situation of the country, than upon the state of its wealth and industry; as upon this account it may in different countries be the same in very different periods of improvement, and very different in the same period; its connection with the state of improvement is uncertain; and it is of this sort of uncertainty that I am here speaking.
In increasing the quantity of the different minerals and metals which are drawn from the bowels of the earth, that of the more precious ones particularly, the efficacy of human industry seems not to be limited, but to be altogether uncertain.
The quantity of the precious metals which is to be found in any country, is not limited by any thing in its local situation, such as the fertility or barrenness of its own mines. Those metals frequently abound in countries which possess no mines. Their quantity, in every particular country, seems to depend upon two different circumstances; first, upon its power of purchasing, upon the state of its industry, upon the annual produce of its land and labour, in consequence of which it can afford to employ a greater or a smaller quantity of labour and subsistence, in bringing or purchasing such superfluities as gold and silver, either from its own mines, or from those of other countries; and, secondly, upon the fertility or barrenness of the mines which may happen at any particular time to supply the commercial world with those metals. The quantity of those metals in the countries most remote from the mines, must be more or less affected by this fertility or barrenness, on account of the easy and cheap transportation of those metals, of their small bulk and great value. Their quantity in China and Indostan must have been more or less affected by the abundance of the mines of America.
So far as their quantity in any particular country depends upon the former of those two circumstances (the power of purchasing), their real price, like that of all other luxuries and superfluities, is likely to rise with the wealth and improvement of the country, and to fall with its poverty and depression. Countries which have a great quantity of labour and subsistence to spare, can afford to purchase any particular quantity of those metals at the expense of a greater quantity of labour and subsistence, than countries which have less to spare.
So far as their quantity in any particular country depends upon the latter of those two circumstances (the fertility or barrenness of the mines which happen to supply the commercial world), their real price, the real quantity of labour and subsistence which they will purchase or exchange for, will, no doubt, sink more or less in proportion to the fertility, and rise in proportion to the barrenness of those mines.
The fertility or barrenness of the mines, however, which may happen at any particular time to supply the commercial world, is a circumstance which, it is evident, may have no sort of connection with the state of industry in a particular country. It seems even to have no very necessary connection with that of the world in general. As arts and commerce, indeed, gradually spread themselves over a greater and a greater part of the earth, the search for new mines, being extended over a wider surface, may have somewhat a better chance for being successful than when confined within narrower bounds. The discovery of new mines, however, as the old ones come to be gradually exhausted, is a matter of the greatest uncertainty, and such as no human skill or industry can insure. All indications, it is acknowledged, are doubtful; and the actual discovery and successful working of a new mine can alone ascertain the reality of its value, or even of its existence. In this search there seem to be no certain limits, either to the possible success, or to the possible disappointment of human industry. In the course of a century or two, it is possible that new mines may be discovered, more fertile than any that have ever yet been known; and it is just equally possible, that the most fertile mine then known may be more barren than any that was wrought before the discovery of the mines of America. Whether the one or the other of those two events may happen to take place, is of very little importance to the real wealth and prosperity of the world, to the real value of the annual produce of the land and labour of mankind. Its nominal value, the quantity of gold and silver by which this annual produce could be expressed or represented, would, no doubt, be very different; but its real value, the real quantity of labour which it could purchase or command, would be precisely the same. A shilling might, in the one case, represent no more labour than a penny does at present; and a penny, in the other, might represent as much as a shilling does now. But in the one case, he who had a shilling in his pocket would be no richer than he who has a penny at present; and in the other, he who had a penny would be just as rich as he who has a shilling now. The cheapness and abundance of gold and silver plate would be the sole advantage which the world could derive from the one event; and the dearness and scarcity of those trifling superfluities, the only inconveniency it could suffer from the other.
Conclusion of the Digression concerning the Variations in the Value of Silver.
The greater part of the writers who have collected the money price of things in ancient times, seem to have considered the low money price of corn, and of goods in general, or, in other words, the high value of gold and silver, as a proof, not only of the scarcity of those metals, but of the poverty and barbarism of the country at the time when it took place. This notion is connected with the system of political economy, which represents national wealth as consisting in the abundance and national poverty in the scarcity, of gold and silver; a system which I shall endeavour to explain and examine at great length in the fourth book of this Inquiry. I shall only observe at present, that the high value of the precious metals can be no proof of the poverty or barbarism of any particular country at the time when it took place. It is a proof only of the barrenness of the mines which happened at that time to supply the commercial world. A poor country, as it cannot afford to buy more, so it can as little afford to pay dearer for gold and silver than a rich one; and the value of those metals, therefore, is not likely to be higher in the former than in the latter. In China, a country much richer than any part of Europe, the value of the precious metals is much higher than in any part of Europe. As the wealth of Europe, indeed, has increased greatly since the discovery of the mines of America, so the value of gold and silver has gradually diminished. This diminution of their value, however, has not been owing to the increase of the real wealth of Europe, of the annual produce of its land and labour, but to the accidental discovery of more abundant mines than any that were known before. The increase of the quantity of gold and silver in Europe, and the increase of its manufactures and agriculture, are two events which, though they have happened nearly about the same time, yet have arisen from very different causes, and have scarce any natural connection with one another. The one has arisen from a mere accident, in which neither prudence nor policy either had or could have any share; the other, from the fall of the feudal system, and from the establishment of a government which afforded to industry the only encouragement which it requires, some tolerable security that it shall enjoy the fruits of its own labour. Poland, where the feudal system still continues to take place, is at this day as beggarly a country as it was before the discovery of America. The money price of corn, however, has risen; the real value of the precious metals has fallen in Poland, in the same manner as in other parts of Europe. Their quantity, therefore, must have increased there as in other places, and nearly in the same proportion to the annual produce of its land and labour. This increase of the quantity of those metals, however, has not, it seems, increased that annual produce, has neither improved the manufactures and agriculture of the country, nor mended the circumstances of its inhabitants. Spain and Portugal, the countries which possess the mines, are, after Poland, perhaps the two most beggarly countries in Europe. The value of the precious metals, however, must be lower in Spain and Portugal than in any other part of Europe, as they come from those countries to all other parts of Europe, loaded, not only with a freight and an insurance, but with the expense of smuggling, their exportation being either prohibited or subjected to a duty. In proportion to the annual produce of the land and labour, therefore, their quantity must be greater in those countries than in any other part of Europe; those countries, however, are poorer than the greater part of Europe. Though the feudal system has been abolished in Spain and Portugal, it has not been succeeded by a much better.
As the low value of gold and silver, therefore, is no proof of the wealth and flourishing state of the country where it takes place; so neither is their high value, or the low money price either of goods in general, or of corn in particular, any proof of its poverty and barbarism.
But though the low money price, either of goods in general, or of corn in particular, be no proof of the poverty or barbarism of the times, the low money price of some particular sorts of goods, such as cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, etc. in proportion to that of corn, is a most decisive one. It clearly demonstrates, first, their great abundance in proportion to that of corn, and, consequently, the great extent of the land which they occupied in proportion to what was occupied by corn; and, secondly, the low value of this land in proportion to that of corn land, and, consequently, the uncultivated and unimproved state of the far greater part of the lands of the country. It clearly demonstrates, that the stock and population of the country did not bear the same proportion to the extent of its territory, which they commonly do in civilized countries; and that society was at that time, and in that country, but in its infancy. From the high or low money price, either of goods in general, or of corn in particular, we can infer only, that the mines, which at that time happened to supply the commercial world with gold and silver, were fertile or barren, not that the country was rich or poor. But from the high or low money price of some sorts of goods in proportion to that of others, we can infer, with a degree of probability that approaches almost to certainty, that it was rich or poor, that the greater part of its lands were improved or unimproved, and that it was either in a more or less barbarous state, or in a more or less civilized one.
Any rise in the money price of goods which proceeded altogether from the degradation of the value of silver, would affect all sorts of goods equally, and raise their price universally, a third, or a fourth, or a fifth part higher, according as silver happened to lose a third, or a fourth, or a fifth part of its former value. But the rise in the price of provisions, which has been the subject of so much reasoning and conversation, does not affect all sorts of provisions equally. Taking the course of the present century at an average, the price of corn, it is acknowledged, even by those who account for this rise by the degradation of the value of silver, has risen much less than that of some other sorts of provisions. The rise in the price of those other sorts of provisions, therefore, cannot be owing altogether to the degradation of the value of silver. Some other causes must be taken into the account; and those which have been above assigned, will, perhaps, without having recourse to the supposed degradation of the value of silver, sufficiently explain this rise in those particular sorts of provisions, of which the price has actually risen in proportion to that of corn.
As to the price of corn itself, it has, during the sixty-four first years of the present century, and before the late extraordinary course of bad seasons, been somewhat lower than it was during the sixty-four last years of the preceding century. This fact is attested, not only by the accounts of Windsor market, but by the public fiars of all the different counties of Scotland, and by the accounts of several different markets in France, which have been collected with great diligence and fidelity by Mr Messance, and by Mr Dupré de St Maur. The evidence is more complete than could well have been expected in a matter which is naturally so very difficult to be ascertained.
As to the high price of corn during these last ten or twelve years, it can be sufficiently accounted for from the badness of the seasons, without supposing any degradation in the value of silver.
The opinion, therefore, that silver is continually sinking in its value, seems not to be founded upon any good observations, either upon the prices of corn, or upon those of other provisions.
The same quantity of silver, it may perhaps be said, will, in the present times, even according to the account which has been here given, purchase a much smaller quantity of several sorts of provisions than it would have done during some part of the last century; and to ascertain whether this change be owing to a rise in the value of those goods, or to a fall in the value of silver, is only to establish a vain and useless distinction, which can be of no sort of service to the man who has only a certain quantity of silver to go to market with, or a certain fixed revenue in money. I certainly do not pretend that the knowledge of this distinction will enable him to buy cheaper. It may not, however, upon that account be altogether useless.
It may be of some use to the public, by affording an easy proof of the prosperous condition of the country. If the rise in the price of some sorts of provisions be owing altogether to a fall in the value of silver, it is owing to a circumstance, from which nothing can be inferred but the fertility of the American mines. The real wealth of the country, the annual produce of its land and labour, may, notwithstanding this circumstance, be either gradually declining, as in Portugal and Poland; or gradually advancing, as in most other parts of Europe. But if this rise in the price of some sorts of provisions be owing to a rise in the real value of the land which produces them, to its increased fertility, or, in consequence of more extended improvement and good cultivation, to its having been rendered fit for producing corn; it is owing to a circumstance which indicates, in the clearest manner, the prosperous and advancing state of the country. The land constitutes by far the greatest, the most important, and the most durable part of the wealth of every extensive country. It may surely be of some use, or, at least, it may give some satisfaction to the public, to have so decisive a proof of the increasing value of by far the greatest, the most important, and the most durable part of its wealth.
English
Although the success of any particular day’s fishing is highly uncertain, one might think that, given a country’s location, the general effectiveness of industry in bringing a certain quantity of fish to market over a year or several years is certain enough. No doubt it is. But because this effectiveness depends more on the country’s location than on its wealth and industry, it may be the same in different countries at very different stages of improvement and very different at the same stage. Its connection with improvement is therefore uncertain; that is the kind of uncertainty I mean here.
In increasing the quantity of minerals and metals extracted from the earth, especially the more precious ones, the effectiveness of human industry seems unlimited, but wholly uncertain.
The quantity of precious metals found in any country is not limited by any feature of its location, such as the fertility or barrenness of its own mines. These metals are often abundant in countries that have no mines. Their quantity in a particular country seems to depend on two distinct circumstances. First is its purchasing power: the state of its industry and the annual produce of its land and labor, which determine how much labor and subsistence it can afford to devote to obtaining such luxuries as gold and silver, whether from its own mines or by purchase from other countries’ mines. Second is the fertility or barrenness of whichever mines happen at that time to supply the commercial world with these metals. Because the metals are compact, valuable, and easily and cheaply transported, their quantity even in the countries farthest from the mines must be affected to some extent by the mines’ fertility or barrenness. The abundance of the American mines must have affected their quantity in China and Indostan.
Insofar as the quantity of these metals in a country depends on the first circumstance, its purchasing power, their real price, like that of all other luxuries and superfluities, is likely to rise with the country’s wealth and improvement and fall with its poverty and decline. Countries with much labor and subsistence to spare can afford to pay more of both for a given quantity of the metals than countries with less to spare.
Insofar as their quantity in a country depends on the second circumstance—the fertility or barrenness of the mines supplying the commercial world—their real price, the actual quantity of labor and subsistence they will buy or command in exchange, will surely fall as those mines become more fertile and rise as they become more barren.
Yet the fertility or barrenness of the mines that supply the commercial world at a given time may plainly have no connection whatever with the state of industry in any particular country. It does not even seem necessarily connected with the state of industry in the world at large. As arts and commerce gradually spread over more of the earth, a search for new mines over a wider area may stand a somewhat better chance of success than one confined to narrower bounds. But the discovery of new mines as old ones are gradually exhausted is profoundly uncertain, and no human skill or industry can guarantee it. All signs are admittedly doubtful: only discovering and successfully working a new mine can establish its actual value, or even that it exists. In this search there seem to be no certain limits either to the possible success of human industry or to its possible disappointment. Within a century or two, new mines might be discovered more fertile than any yet known. Equally, the most fertile mine then known might be more barren than any worked before the American mines were discovered. Which of these events occurs matters very little to the world’s real wealth and prosperity, or to the real value of the annual produce of humanity’s land and labor. Its nominal value, the amount of gold and silver in which that annual produce could be expressed, would certainly differ greatly; but its real value, the actual amount of labor it could buy or command, would remain exactly the same. In the first case a shilling might represent no more labor than a penny does now; in the second a penny might represent as much as a shilling now does. Yet someone with a shilling in his pocket in the first case would be no richer than someone with a penny today, while someone with a penny in the second would be just as rich as someone with a shilling today. Cheap and abundant gold and silver plate would be the world’s sole benefit from the first event; expensive and scarce trifles of that kind its only inconvenience from the second.
Conclusion of the Digression concerning the Variations in the Value of Silver.
Most writers who have collected the money prices of things in ancient times appear to have regarded low money prices for grain and other goods—or, in other words, the high value of gold and silver—as evidence not only that those metals were scarce, but that the country was poor and uncivilized at the time. This idea is bound up with the system of political economy that locates national wealth in an abundance of gold and silver and national poverty in their scarcity. I shall explain and examine that system at length in the fourth book of this Inquiry. For now I observe only that a high value for precious metals proves nothing about the poverty or lack of civilization of any particular country at that time. It proves only that the mines then supplying the commercial world were barren. A poor country can no more afford to pay a higher price for gold and silver than a rich country than it can afford to buy more of them. The value of these metals is therefore unlikely to be higher in the poor country. In China, a country much richer than any part of Europe, the precious metals are worth much more than anywhere in Europe. Europe’s wealth has indeed risen greatly since the discovery of the American mines, while the value of gold and silver has gradually fallen. But this decline in their value was caused not by the increase of Europe’s real wealth, the annual produce of its land and labor, but by the chance discovery of mines more abundant than any previously known. The growth in Europe’s supply of gold and silver and the growth of its manufacturing and agriculture occurred at nearly the same time, yet arose from very different causes and have scarcely any natural connection. The first was the result of pure accident, in which neither prudence nor policy had or could have had any part; the second followed the fall of the feudal system and the establishment of a government that gave industry the only encouragement it needs: reasonable security in enjoying the fruits of its own labor. Poland, where the feudal system persists, is as impoverished today as it was before the discovery of America. Yet the money price of grain has risen there and the real value of the precious metals has fallen, as elsewhere in Europe. Their quantity must therefore have increased in Poland too, in roughly the same proportion to the annual produce of its land and labor. But this increase has evidently not increased that annual produce, improved its manufactures or agriculture, or bettered the condition of its inhabitants. Spain and Portugal, which possess the mines, are perhaps the two poorest countries in Europe after Poland. Yet the precious metals must be worth less in Spain and Portugal than anywhere else in Europe, since they reach all other parts of Europe from those countries bearing not only freight and insurance charges but the expense of smuggling, export being banned or subject to a duty. Relative to the annual produce of their land and labor, therefore, their quantity must be greater there than anywhere else in Europe. Yet those countries are poorer than most of Europe. Although Spain and Portugal have abolished the feudal system, they have not replaced it with a much better one.
Just as a low value of gold and silver does not prove that a country is wealthy and flourishing, a high value—or a low money price for goods generally or grain in particular—does not prove that it is poor and uncivilized.
But although low money prices for goods generally or grain in particular do not prove an age poor or uncivilized, low money prices for particular goods, such as cattle, poultry, and game of all kinds, etc., relative to the price of grain, are decisive evidence. They show, first, that these goods were abundant relative to grain and that the land devoted to them was extensive relative to land devoted to grain. Second, they show that this land was of low value compared with grain land and therefore that by far the greater part of the country’s land was uncultivated and unimproved. They show plainly that the country’s stock and population were not proportionate to its territory as they commonly are in civilized countries, and that society there and then was still in its infancy. From a high or low money price for goods generally or grain in particular, we can infer only whether the mines then supplying the commercial world with gold and silver were fertile or barren, not whether the country was rich or poor. But from the high or low money prices of some goods relative to others, we can infer with near certainty whether it was rich or poor, whether most of its land was improved or unimproved, and whether it was more or less civilized.
If a rise in the money price of goods resulted entirely from a fall in the value of silver, it would affect every kind of good equally. Prices everywhere would rise by a third, a fourth, or a fifth, according as silver lost a third, a fourth, or a fifth of its former value. Yet the rise in food prices that has provoked so much argument and discussion does not affect all foods equally. Averaging over the present century, even those who explain the rise by silver’s declining value acknowledge that grain has risen much less in price than some other foods. The price rise of those other foods cannot therefore be entirely due to silver’s declining value. Other causes must be considered. The causes given above may well suffice, without invoking a supposed decline in the value of silver, to explain why the prices of these particular foods have risen relative to grain.
As for the price of grain itself, during the first sixty-four years of the present century, before the recent extraordinary run of poor seasons, it was somewhat lower than during the last sixty-four years of the preceding century. This is attested not only by the accounts from Windsor market, but also by the public fiars of every Scottish county and the accounts from several French markets gathered with great care and fidelity by Mr Messance and Mr Dupré de St Maur. The evidence is more complete than one could reasonably expect in a matter so difficult by nature to establish.
The high price of grain over the past ten or twelve years is sufficiently explained by poor seasons, without supposing that silver has lost value.
The belief that silver is continually falling in value therefore seems unsupported by sound observations of the prices either of grain or of other foods.
It may perhaps be said that, even on the account given here, the same amount of silver now buys far less of several kinds of food than it did during part of the last century. To determine whether this change arises from a rise in the value of those goods or a fall in the value of silver, one might say, is an idle and useless distinction, of no service to a person with only a fixed amount of silver to take to market or a fixed money income. I certainly do not claim that knowing the distinction will enable such a person to buy more cheaply. But that does not make it wholly useless.
It may serve the public by giving ready evidence of the country’s prosperity. If rising prices for some foods result entirely from falling silver values, they arise from a circumstance that tells us nothing beyond the fertility of the American mines. The country’s real wealth—the annual produce of its land and labor—might nonetheless be gradually declining, as in Portugal and Poland, or gradually growing, as in most other parts of Europe. But if those prices rise because the land producing such foods has grown more valuable in real terms—because it has grown more fertile or, through wider improvement and good cultivation, has become fit to grow grain—the cause is clear evidence that the country is prosperous and advancing. Land constitutes by far the largest, most important, and most enduring part of any extensive country’s wealth. Surely it may be useful, or at least satisfying to the public, to have such decisive evidence that by far the largest, most important, and most enduring part of its wealth is increasing in value.
Book I, Chapter XI, 16
18th-century English
It may, too, be of some use to the public, in regulating the pecuniary reward of some of its inferior servants. If this rise in the price of some sorts of provisions be owing to a fall in the value of silver, their pecuniary reward, provided it was not too large before, ought certainly to be augmented in proportion to the extent of this fall. If it is not augmented, their real recompence will evidently be so much diminished. But if this rise of price is owing to the increased value, in consequence of the improved fertility of the land which produces such provisions, it becomes a much nicer matter to judge, either in what proportion any pecuniary reward ought to be augmented, or whether it ought to be augmented at all. The extension of improvement and cultivation, as it necessarily raises more or less, in proportion to the price of corn, that of every sort of animal food, so it as necessarily lowers that of, I believe, every sort of vegetable food. It raises the price of animal food; because a great part of the land which produces it, being rendered fit for producing corn, must afford to the landlord and farmer the rent and profit of corn land. It lowers the price of vegetable food; because, by increasing the fertility of the land, it increases its abundance. The improvements of agriculture, too, introduce many sorts of vegetable food, which requiring less land, and not more labour than corn, come much cheaper to market. Such are potatoes and maize, or what is called Indian corn, the two most important improvements which the agriculture of Europe, perhaps, which Europe itself, has received from the great extension of its commerce and navigation. Many sorts of vegetable food, besides, which in the rude state of agriculture are confined to the kitchen-garden, and raised only by the spade, come, in its improved state, to be introduced into common fields, and to be raised by the plough; such as turnips, carrots, cabbages, etc. If, in the progress of improvement, therefore, the real price of one species of food necessarily rises, that of another as necessarily falls; and it becomes a matter of more nicety to judge how far the rise in the one may be compensated by the fall in the other. When the real price of butcher’s meat has once got to its height (which, with regard to every sort, except perhaps that of hogs flesh, it seems to have done through a great part of England more than a century ago), any rise which can afterwards happen in that of any other sort of animal food, cannot much affect the circumstances of the inferior ranks of people. The circumstances of the poor, through a great part of England, cannot surely be so much distressed by any rise in the price of poultry, fish, wild-fowl, or venison, as they must be relieved by the fall in that of potatoes.
In the present season of scarcity, the high price of corn no doubt distresses the poor. But in times of moderate plenty, when corn is at its ordinary or average price, the natural rise in the price of any other sort of rude produce cannot much affect them. They suffer more, perhaps, by the artificial rise which has been occasioned by taxes in the price of some manufactured commodities, as of salt, soap, leather, candles, malt, beer, ale, etc.
_Effects of the Progress of Improvement upon the real Price of Manufactures._
It is the natural effect of improvement, however, to diminish gradually the real price of almost all manufactures. That of the manufacturing workmanship diminishes, perhaps, in all of them without exception. In consequence of better machinery, of greater dexterity, and of a more proper division and distribution of work, all of which are the natural effects of improvement, a much smaller quantity of labour becomes requisite for executing any particular piece of work; and though, in consequence of the flourishing circumstances of the society, the real price of labour should rise very considerably, yet the great diminution of the quantity will generally much more than compensate the greatest rise which can happen in the price.
There are, indeed, a few manufactures, in which the necessary rise in the real price of the rude materials will more than compensate all the advantages which improvement can introduce into the execution of the work. In carpenters’ and joiners’ work, and in the coarser sort of cabinet work, the necessary rise in the real price of barren timber, in consequence of the improvement of land, will more than compensate all the advantages which can be derived from the best machinery, the greatest dexterity, and the most proper division and distribution of work.
But in all cases in which the real price of the rude material either does not rise at all, or does not rise very much, that of the manufactured commodity sinks very considerably.
This diminution of price has, in the course of the present and preceding century, been most remarkable in those manufactures of which the materials are the coarser metals. A better movement of a watch, than about the middle of the last century could have been bought for twenty pounds, may now perhaps be had for twenty shillings. In the work of cutlers and locksmiths, in all the toys which are made of the coarser metals, and in all those goods which are commonly known by the name of Birmingham and Sheffield ware, there has been, during the same period, a very great reduction of price, though not altogether so great as in watch-work. It has, however, been sufficient to astonish the workmen of every other part of Europe, who in many cases acknowledge that they can produce no work of equal goodness for double or even for triple the price. There are perhaps no manufactures, in which the division of labour can be carried further, or in which the machinery employed admits of a greater variety of improvements, than those of which the materials are the coarser metals.
In the clothing manufacture there has, during the same period, been no such sensible reduction of price. The price of superfine cloth, I have been assured, on the contrary, has, within these five-and-twenty or thirty years, risen somewhat in proportion to its quality, owing, it was said, to a considerable rise in the price of the material, which consists altogether of Spanish wool. That of the Yorkshire cloth, which is made altogether of English wool, is said, indeed, during the course of the present century, to have fallen a good deal in proportion to its quality. Quality, however, is so very disputable a matter, that I look upon all information of this kind as somewhat uncertain. In the clothing manufacture, the division of labour is nearly the same now as it was a century ago, and the machinery employed is not very different. There may, however, have been some small improvements in both, which may have occasioned some reduction of price.
But the reduction will appear much more sensible and undeniable, if we compare the price of this manufacture in the present times with what it was in a much remoter period, towards the end of the fifteenth century, when the labour was probably much less subdivided, and the machinery employed much more imperfect, than it is at present.
In 1487, being the 4th of Henry VII., it was enacted, that “whosoever shall sell by retail a broad yard of the finest scarlet grained, or of other grained cloth of the finest making, above sixteen shillings, shall forfeit forty shillings for every yard so sold.” Sixteen shillings, therefore, containing about the same quantity of silver as four-and-twenty shillings of our present money, was, at that time, reckoned not an unreasonable price for a yard of the finest cloth; and as this is a sumptuary law, such cloth, it is probable, had usually been sold somewhat dearer. A guinea may be reckoned the highest price in the present times. Even though the quality of the cloths, therefore, should be supposed equal, and that of the present times is most probably much superior, yet, even upon this supposition, the money price of the finest cloth appears to have been considerably reduced since the end of the fifteenth century. But its real price has been much more reduced. Six shillings and eightpence was then, and long afterwards, reckoned the average price of a quarter of wheat. Sixteen shillings, therefore, was the price of two quarters and more than three bushels of wheat. Valuing a quarter of wheat in the present times at eight-and-twenty shillings, the real price of a yard of fine cloth must, in those times, have been equal to at least three pounds six shillings and sixpence of our present money. The man who bought it must have parted with the command of a quantity of labour and subsistence equal to what that sum would purchase in the present times.
The reduction in the real price of the coarse manufacture, though considerable, has not been so great as in that of the fine.
In 1463, being the 3rd of Edward IV. it was enacted, that “no servant in husbandry nor common labourer, nor servant to any artificer inhabiting out of a city or burgh, shall use or wear in their clothing any cloth above two shillings the broad yard.” In the 3rd of Edward IV., two shillings contained very nearly the same quantity of silver as four of our present money. But the Yorkshire cloth which is now sold at four shillings the yard, is probably much superior to any that was then made for the wearing of the very poorest order of common servants. Even the money price of their clothing, therefore, may, in proportion to the quality, be somewhat cheaper in the present than it was in those ancient times. The real price is certainly a good deal cheaper. Tenpence was then reckoned what is called the moderate and reasonable price of a bushel of wheat. Two shillings, therefore, was the price of two bushels and near two pecks of wheat, which in the present times, at three shillings and sixpence the bushel, would be worth eight shillings and ninepence. For a yard of this cloth the poor servant must have parted with the power of purchasing a quantity of subsistence equal to what eight shillings and ninepence would purchase in the present times. This is a sumptuary law, too, restraining the luxury and extravagance of the poor. Their clothing, therefore, had commonly been much more expensive.
The same order of people are, by the same law, prohibited from wearing hose, of which the price should exceed fourteen-pence the pair, equal to about eight-and-twenty pence of our present money. But fourteen-pence was in those times the price of a bushel and near two pecks of wheat; which in the present times, at three and sixpence the bushel, would cost five shillings and threepence. We should in the present times consider this as a very high price for a pair of stockings to a servant of the poorest and lowest order. He must however, in those times, have paid what was really equivalent to this price for them.
In the time of Edward IV. the art of knitting stockings was probably not known in any part of Europe. Their hose were made of common cloth, which may have been one of the causes of their dearness. The first person that wore stockings in England is said to have been Queen Elizabeth. She received them as a present from the Spanish ambassador.
Both in the coarse and in the fine woollen manufacture, the machinery employed was much more imperfect in those ancient, than it is in the present times. It has since received three very capital improvements, besides, probably, many smaller ones, of which it may be difficult to ascertain either the number or the importance. The three capital improvements are, first, the exchange of the rock and spindle for the spinning-wheel, which, with the same quantity of labour, will perform more than double the quantity of work. Secondly, the use of several very ingenious machines, which facilitate and abridge, in a still greater proportion, the winding of the worsted and woollen yarn, or the proper arrangement of the warp and woof before they are put into the loom; an operation which, previous to the invention of those machines, must have been extremely tedious and troublesome. Thirdly, the employment of the fulling-mill for thickening the cloth, instead of treading it in water. Neither wind nor water mills of any kind were known in England so early as the beginning of the sixteenth century, nor, so far as I know, in any other part of Europe north of the Alps. They had been introduced into Italy some time before.
The consideration of these circumstances may, perhaps, in some measure, explain to us why the real price both of the coarse and of the fine manufacture was so much higher in those ancient than it is in the present times. It cost a greater quantity of labour to bring the goods to market. When they were brought thither, therefore, they must have purchased, or exchanged for the price of, a greater quantity.
The coarse manufacture probably was, in those ancient times, carried on in England in the same manner as it always has been in countries where arts and manufactures are in their infancy. It was probably a household manufacture, in which every different part of the work was occasionally performed by all the different members of almost every private family, but so as to be their work only when they had nothing else to do, and not to be the principal business from which any of them derived the greater part of their subsistence. The work which is performed in this manner, it has already been observed, comes always much cheaper to market than that which is the principal or sole fund of the workman’s subsistence. The fine manufacture, on the other hand, was not, in those times, carried on in England, but in the rich and commercial country of Flanders; and it was probably conducted then, in the same manner as now, by people who derived the whole, or the principal part of their subsistence from it. It was, besides, a foreign manufacture, and must have paid some duty, the ancient custom of tonnage and poundage at least, to the king. This duty, indeed, would not probably be very great. It was not then the policy of Europe to restrain, by high duties, the importation of foreign manufactures, but rather to encourage it, in order that merchants might be enabled to supply, at as easy a rate as possible, the great men with the conveniencies and luxuries which they wanted, and which the industry of their own country could not afford them.
The consideration of these circumstances may, perhaps, in some measure explain to us why, in those ancient times, the real price of the coarse manufacture was, in proportion to that of the fine, so much lower than in the present times.
Conclusion of the Chapter.
I shall conclude this very long chapter with observing, that every improvement in the circumstances of the society tends, either directly or indirectly, to raise the real rent of land to increase the real wealth of the landlord, his power of purchasing the labour, or the produce of the labour of other people.
The extension of improvement and cultivation tends to raise it directly. The landlord’s share of the produce necessarily increases with the increase of the produce.
That rise in the real price of those parts of the rude produce of land, which is first the effect of the extended improvement and cultivation, and afterwards the cause of their being still further extended, the rise in the price of cattle, for example, tends, too, to raise the rent of land directly, and in a still greater proportion. The real value of the landlord’s share, his real command of the labour of other people, not only rises with the real value of the produce, but the proportion of his share to the whole produce rises with it.
That produce, after the rise in its real price, requires no more labour to collect it than before. A smaller proportion of it will, therefore, be sufficient to replace, with the ordinary profit, the stock which employs that labour. A greater proportion of it must consequently belong to the landlord.
English
It may also help the public set the monetary pay of some of its lower-ranking servants. If the prices of some kinds of food rise because silver falls in value, their monetary pay, provided it was not excessive before, certainly should rise in proportion to that fall. Otherwise their real reward plainly diminishes by the same amount. But if prices rise because the land producing these foods has grown more valuable through improved fertility, it is much harder to judge by how much monetary pay should rise, or whether it should rise at all. Expanded improvement and cultivation necessarily raise the prices of all kinds of animal food, more or less, relative to grain; they also necessarily lower the prices of, I believe, all kinds of vegetable food. Animal food grows dearer because much of the land that produces it becomes fit to grow grain, and must yield the landlord and farmer the rent and profit of grain land. Vegetable food grows cheaper because the increased fertility of the land makes it more abundant. Improved agriculture also introduces many kinds of vegetable food that need less land and no more labor than grain, and so come to market much more cheaply. Such are potatoes and maize, or Indian corn, perhaps the two most important improvements that European agriculture, indeed Europe itself, has gained from the great expansion of its commerce and navigation. Moreover, many vegetables grown only by the spade in kitchen gardens when agriculture is primitive come to be grown by the plow in ordinary fields as it improves: turnips, carrots, cabbages, etc. Thus, as improvement advances, the real price of one kind of food necessarily rises while that of another necessarily falls. It becomes harder to judge how far the fall in one offsets the rise in the other. Once the real price of butcher’s meat has reached its peak—as it seems to have done for every kind except perhaps hogs flesh throughout much of England more than a century ago—any further rise in the price of another kind of animal food can have little effect on the condition of the lower ranks. Surely the poor throughout much of England cannot suffer nearly as much from a rise in the price of poultry, fish, wild-fowl, or venison as they benefit from a fall in the price of potatoes.
In the present season of scarcity, the high price of grain undoubtedly hurts the poor. But in times of moderate abundance, when grain is at its ordinary or average price, the natural rise in the price of any other kind of raw produce can affect them little. Perhaps they suffer more from the artificial price increases caused by taxes on manufactured goods such as salt, soap, leather, candles, malt, beer, ale, etc.
Effects of the Progress of Improvement upon the Real Price of Manufactures.
Improvement, however, naturally tends to lower the real price of almost all manufactured goods over time. The cost of the manufacturing labor itself probably falls in every case without exception. Better machines, greater skill, and a more suitable division and distribution of work—all natural effects of improvement—allow any given task to be done with far less labor. Even if the real price of labor rises considerably as society flourishes, this great reduction in the amount needed will generally more than compensate for the greatest rise in its price.
There are indeed a few kinds of manufacture for which the necessary rise in the real price of raw materials will more than offset every advantage improvement brings to production. In carpentry, joinery, and the coarser kinds of cabinetmaking, the necessary rise in the real price of timber from uncultivated land as land improves will more than offset all the advantages of the best machines, the greatest skill, and the most suitable division and distribution of work.
But whenever the real price of the raw material does not rise at all or rises only a little, the price of the manufactured product falls considerably.
Over the present and preceding centuries, this reduction has been most striking in manufactures using the base metals. A better watch movement than one that cost twenty pounds around the middle of the last century may now perhaps be bought for twenty shillings. Over the same period, prices have fallen greatly for the work of cutlers and locksmiths, all the toys made of base metals, and all the goods commonly called Birmingham and Sheffield ware, though the reduction has not been quite so great as for watchmaking. It has nevertheless astonished workers elsewhere in Europe, who often admit that they cannot make work of equal quality for twice or even three times the price. There may be no manufactures in which the division of labor can be taken further, or whose machinery offers greater scope for improvement, than those using base metals.
Clothmaking has seen no comparably noticeable reduction in price over the same period. On the contrary, I have been told that the price of superfine cloth has risen somewhat relative to its quality in the past five-and-twenty or thirty years, allegedly because its material, entirely Spanish wool, has grown considerably dearer. Yorkshire cloth, made entirely of English wool, is indeed said to have fallen considerably in price relative to its quality over the present century. But quality is so open to dispute that I regard all such reports as somewhat uncertain. The division of labor in clothmaking is nearly the same as it was a century ago, and the machinery is not very different. Small improvements in both, however, may have brought about some price reduction.
The reduction becomes much more apparent and undeniable when we compare the present price of cloth with its price at a much earlier time, toward the end of the fifteenth century, when labor was probably divided far less and the machines used were much less advanced.
In 1487, being the 4th of Henry VII., a law provided that “whoever sells at retail a broad yard of the finest scarlet grained cloth, or any other grained cloth of the finest make, for more than sixteen shillings shall forfeit forty shillings for each yard so sold.” Sixteen shillings then contained about as much silver as four-and-twenty shillings in our present money, and was considered a reasonable price for a yard of the finest cloth. Since this was a sumptuary law, such cloth had probably usually sold for somewhat more. A guinea may be considered the highest price today. Even supposing the quality of the cloth equal—although present cloth is most probably much better—the money price of the finest cloth has plainly fallen considerably since the end of the fifteenth century. Its real price has fallen much more. Six shillings and eightpence was then, and for long afterward, considered the average price of a quarter of wheat. Sixteen shillings therefore paid for two quarters and more than three bushels of wheat. At a present valuation of eight-and-twenty shillings per quarter, the real price of a yard of fine cloth in those days must have equaled at least three pounds six shillings and sixpence in our present money. Its buyer had to give up command over as much labor and subsistence as that sum can buy today.
The reduction in the real price of coarse cloth, though considerable, has not been as great as that of fine cloth.
In 1463, being the 3rd of Edward IV., a law provided that “no servant employed in husbandry, no common laborer, and no servant of an artisan living outside a city or borough shall wear clothing made of cloth costing more than two shillings the broad yard.” In the 3rd of Edward IV., two shillings contained very nearly as much silver as four in our present money. But the Yorkshire cloth now sold at four shillings a yard is probably far better than any made then for the very poorest class of ordinary servants. Even the money price of their clothing, adjusted for quality, may thus be somewhat lower today than it was then. Its real price is certainly much lower. Tenpence was then regarded as a moderate and reasonable price for a bushel of wheat. Two shillings therefore bought two bushels and nearly two pecks of wheat, worth eight shillings and ninepence today at three shillings and sixpence a bushel. For one yard of this cloth a poor servant had to give up the power to buy as much subsistence as eight shillings and ninepence would buy today. This, too, was a sumptuary law restraining the luxury and extravagance of the poor. Their clothing, therefore, had commonly cost far more.
The same law forbade people of the same class to wear hose costing more than fourteen-pence a pair, equal to about eight-and-twenty pence of our present money. But fourteen-pence then bought a bushel and nearly two pecks of wheat, which today would cost five shillings and threepence at three and sixpence a bushel. Today we would consider this a very high price for a pair of stockings for a servant of the poorest and lowest class. Yet such a servant had to pay its real equivalent for them then.
In the time of Edward IV., knitting stockings was probably unknown anywhere in Europe. Hose were made from ordinary cloth, which may have contributed to their high price. Queen Elizabeth is said to have been the first person in England to wear stockings. She received them as a gift from the Spanish ambassador.
The machinery used in both coarse and fine woolen clothmaking was far less advanced in those days than now. Since then it has received three major improvements, as well as probably many smaller ones whose number or importance is hard to establish. First came the replacement of the distaff and spindle with the spinning wheel, which can do more than twice as much work with the same amount of labor. Second came several ingenious machines that make winding worsted and woolen yarn, or properly arranging the warp and weft before they enter the loom, easier and quicker to an even greater degree. Before these machines were invented, this operation must have been extremely slow and troublesome. Third came the fulling mill, used to thicken the cloth instead of trampling it in water. Neither windmills nor watermills of any kind were known in England as early as the beginning of the sixteenth century, or, as far as I know, elsewhere in Europe north of the Alps. They had reached Italy some time before.
These circumstances may help explain, to some extent, why the real price of both coarse and fine cloth was so much higher then than now. More labor was needed to bring the goods to market. Once there, the goods therefore had to buy, or exchange for the price of, more labor.
In those days, coarse cloth was probably made in England as it always has been where arts and manufactures are in their infancy. It was probably produced in households: members of almost every family occasionally did every part of the work, but only when they had nothing else to do, not as the principal occupation from which any of them drew most of their subsistence. As already observed, work done this way always comes to market much more cheaply than work that is the principal or sole support of its maker. Fine cloth, on the other hand, was then made not in England but in the rich commercial country of Flanders, probably by people who, then as now, earned all or most of their living from it. It was also a foreign product and must have paid some duty to the king, at least the old customs of tonnage and poundage. The duty was probably not very large. European policy then was not to restrict imports of foreign manufactures with high duties, but rather to encourage them, so that merchants could provide great men as cheaply as possible with comforts and luxuries that domestic industry could not supply.
These circumstances may also help explain why the real price of coarse cloth in those days was so much lower in relation to fine cloth than it is now.
Conclusion of the Chapter.
I shall conclude this very long chapter by observing that every improvement in society’s circumstances tends, directly or indirectly, to raise the real rent of land, increasing the landlord’s real wealth and his power to buy the labor or the product of the labor of others.
Expanded improvement and cultivation raise it directly. The landlord’s share of the produce necessarily grows as the produce grows.
The rise in the real price of those parts of the land’s raw produce that at first results from expanded improvement and cultivation, and afterward prompts their further expansion—the rise in the price of livestock, for example—also directly raises the rent of land, and by an even greater proportion. Not only does the real value of the landlord’s share, his real command over others’ labor, rise with the real value of the produce; the proportion of the whole produce that belongs to him rises too.
Collecting that produce after its real price has risen takes no more labor than before. A smaller share of it will therefore suffice to replace the stock employing that labor, with the ordinary profit. A greater share must consequently go to the landlord.
Book I, Chapter XI, 17
18th-century English
All those improvements in the productive powers of labour, which tend directly to reduce the rent price of manufactures, tend indirectly to raise the real rent of land. The landlord exchanges that part of his rude produce, which is over and above his own consumption, or, what comes to the same thing, the price of that part of it, for manufactured produce. Whatever reduces the real price of the latter, raises that of the former. An equal quantity of the former becomes thereby equivalent to a greater quantity of the latter; and the landlord is enabled to purchase a greater quantity of the conveniencies, ornaments, or luxuries which he has occasion for.
Every increase in the real wealth of the society, every increase in the quantity of useful labour employed within it, tends indirectly to raise the real rent of land. A certain proportion of this labour naturally goes to the land. A greater number of men and cattle are employed in its cultivation, the produce increases with the increase of the stock which is thus employed in raising it, and the rent increases with the produce.
The contrary circumstances, the neglect of cultivation and improvement, the fall in the real price of any part of the rude produce of land, the rise in the real price of manufactures from the decay of manufacturing art and industry, the declension of the real wealth of the society, all tend, on the other hand, to lower the real rent of land, to reduce the real wealth of the landlord, to diminish his power of purchasing either the labour, or the produce of the labour, of other people.
The whole annual produce of the land and labour of every country, or, what comes to the same thing, the whole price of that annual produce, naturally divides itself, it has already been observed, into three parts; the rent of land, the wages of labour, and the profits of stock; and constitutes a revenue to three different orders of people; to those who live by rent, to those who live by wages, and to those who live by profit. These are the three great, original, and constituent, orders of every civilized society, from whose revenue that of every other order is ultimately derived.
The interest of the first of those three great orders, it appears from what has been just now said, is strictly and inseparably connected with the general interest of the society. Whatever either promotes or obstructs the one, necessarily promotes or obstructs the other. When the public deliberates concerning any regulation of commerce or police, the proprietors of land never can mislead it, with a view to promote the interest of their own particular order; at least, if they have any tolerable knowledge of that interest. They are, indeed, too often defective in this tolerable knowledge. They are the only one of the three orders whose revenue costs them neither labour nor care, but comes to them, as it were, of its own accord, and independent of any plan or project of their own. That indolence which is the natural effect of the ease and security of their situation, renders them too often, not only ignorant, but incapable of that application of mind, which is necessary in order to foresee and understand the consequence of any public regulation.
The interest of the second order, that of those who live by wages, is as strictly connected with the interest of the society as that of the first. The wages of the labourer, it has already been shewn, are never so high as when the demand for labour is continually rising, or when the quantity employed is every year increasing considerably. When this real wealth of the society becomes stationary, his wages are soon reduced to what is barely enough to enable him to bring up a family, or to continue the race of labourers. When the society declines, they fall even below this. The order of proprietors may perhaps gain more by the prosperity of the society than that of labourers; but there is no order that suffers so cruelly from its decline. But though the interest of the labourer is strictly connected with that of the society, he is incapable either of comprehending that interest, or of understanding its connexion with his own. His condition leaves him no time to receive the necessary information, and his education and habits are commonly such as to render him unfit to judge, even though he was fully informed. In the public deliberations, therefore, his voice is little heard, and less regarded; except upon particular occasions, when his clamour is animated, set on, and supported by his employers, not for his, but their own particular purposes.
His employers constitute the third order, that of those who live by profit. It is the stock that is employed for the sake of profit, which puts into motion the greater part of the useful labour of every society. The plans and projects of the employers of stock regulate and direct all the most important operation of labour, and profit is the end proposed by all those plans and projects. But the rate of profit does not, like rent and wages, rise with the prosperity, and fall with the declension of the society. On the contrary, it is naturally low in rich, and high in poor countries, and it is always highest in the countries which are going fastest to ruin. The interest of this third order, therefore, has not the same connexion with the general interest of the society, as that of the other two. Merchants and master manufacturers are, in this order, the two classes of people who commonly employ the largest capitals, and who by their wealth draw to themselves the greatest share of the public consideration. As during their whole lives they are engaged in plans and projects, they have frequently more acuteness of understanding than the greater part of country gentlemen. As their thoughts, however, are commonly exercised rather about the interest of their own particular branch of business. than about that of the society, their judgment, even when given with the greatest candour (which it has not been upon every occasion), is much more to be depended upon with regard to the former of those two objects, than with regard to the latter. Their superiority over the country gentleman is, not so much in their knowledge of the public interest, as in their having a better knowledge of their own interest than he has of his. It is by this superior knowledge of their own interest that they have frequently imposed upon his generosity, and persuaded him to give up both his own interest and that of the public, from a very simple but honest conviction, that their interest, and not his, was the interest of the public. The interest of the dealers, however, in any particular branch of trade or manufactures, is always in some respects different from, and even opposite to, that of the public. To widen the market, and to narrow the competition, is always the interest of the dealers. To widen the market may frequently be agreeable enough to the interest of the public; but to narrow the competition must always be against it, and can only serve to enable the dealers, by raising their profits above what they naturally would be, to levy, for their own benefit, an absurd tax upon the rest of their fellow-citizens. The proposal of any new law or regulation of commerce which comes from this order, ought always to be listened to with great precaution, and ought never to be adopted till after having been long and carefully examined, not only with the most scrupulous, but with the most suspicious attention. It comes from an order of men, whose interest is never exactly the same with that of the public, who have generally an interest to deceive and even to oppress the public, and who accordingly have, upon many occasions, both deceived and oppressed it.
# PRICES OF WHEAT
Year Prices/Quarter Average of different Average prices of in each year prices in one year each year in money of 1776
£ s d £ s d £ s d 1202 0 12 0 1 16 0 1205 0 12 0 0 13 4 0 13 5 2 0 3 0 15 0 1223 0 12 0 1 16 0 1237 0 3 4 0 10 0 1243 0 2 0 0 6 0 1244 0 2 0 0 6 0 1246 0 16 0 2 8 0 1247 0 13 5 2 0 0 1257 1 4 0 3 12 0 1258 1 0 0 0 15 0 0 17 0 2 11 0 0 16 0 1270 4 16 0 6 8 0 5 12 0 16 16 0 1286 0 2 8 0 16 0 0 9 4 1 8 0 Total 35 9 3 Average 2 19 1¼
1287 0 3 4 0 10 0 1288 0 0 8 0 1 0 0 1 4 0 1 6 0 1 8 0 3 0¼ 0 9 1¾ 0 2 0 0 3 4 0 9 4 1289 0 12 0 0 6 0 0 2 0 0 10 1½ 1 10 4½ 0 10 8 1 0 0 1290 0 16 0 2 8 0 1294 0 16 0 2 8 0 1302 0 4 0 0 12 0 1309 0 7 2 1 1 6 1315 1 0 0 3 0 0 1316 1 0 0 1 10 0 1 10 6 4 11 6 1 12 0 2 0 0 1317 2 4 0 0 14 0 2 13 0 1 19 6 5 18 6 4 0 0 0 6 8 1336 0 2 0 0 6 0 1338 0 3 4 0 10 0 Total 23 4 11¼ Average 1 18 8
1339 0 9 0 1 7 0 1349 0 2 0 0 5 2 1359 1 6 8 3 2 2 1361 0 2 0 0 4 8 1363 0 15 0 1 15 0 1369 1 0 0 1 4 0 1 2 0 2 9 4 1379 0 4 0 0 9 4 1387 0 2 0 0 4 8 1390 0 13 4 0 14 0 0 14 5 1 13 7 0 16 0 1401 0 16 0 1 17 6 1407 0 4 4¾ 0 3 4 0 3 10 0 8 10 1416 0 16 0 1 12 0 Total 15 9 4 Average 1 5 9½
1423 0 8 0 0 1425 0 4 0 0 1434 1 6 8 4 1435 0 5 4 8 1439 1 0 0 1 6 8 1 3 4 2 6 8 1440 1 4 0 2 8 0 1444 0 4 4 0 4 2 0 4 8 0 4 0 1445 0 4 6 0 9 0 1447 0 8 0 0 16 0 1448 0 6 8 0 13 4 1449 0 5 0 0 10 0 1451 0 8 0 0 16 0 Total 12 15 4 Average 1 1 3⅓
1453 0 5 4 0 10 8 1455 0 1 2 0 2 4 1457 0 7 8 1 15 4 1459 0 5 0 0 10 0 1460 0 8 0 0 16 0 1463 0 2 0 0 1 10 0 3 8 0 1 8 1464 0 6 8 0 10 0 1486 1 4 0 1 17 0 1491 0 14 8 1 2 0 1494 0 4 0 0 6 0 1495 0 3 4 0 5 0 1497 1 0 0 1 11 0 Total 8 9 0 Average 0 14 1
1499 0 4 0 0 6 0 1504 0 5 8 0 8 6 1521 1 0 0 1 10 0 1551 0 8 0 0 8 0 1553 0 8 0 0 8 0 1554 0 8 0 0 8 0 1555 0 8 0 0 8 0 1556 0 8 0 0 8 0 1557 0 8 0 0 4 0 0 17 8½ 0 17 8½ 0 5 0 2 13 4 1558 0 8 0 0 8 0 1559 0 8 0 0 8 0 1560 0 8 0 0 8 0 Total 6 0 2½ Average 0 10 0½
1561 0 8 0 0 8 0 1562 0 8 0 0 8 0 1574 2 16 0 1 4 0 2 0 0 2 0 0 1587 3 4 0 3 4 0 1594 2 16 0 2 16 0 1595 2 13 0 2 13 0 1596 4 0 0 4 0 0 1597 5 4 0 4 0 0 4 12 0 4 12 0 1598 2 16 8 2 16 8 1599 1 19 2 1 19 8 1600 1 17 8 1 17 8 1601 1 14 10 1 14 10 Total 28 9 4 Average 2 7 5½
PRICES OF THE QUARTER OF NINE BUSHELS OF THE BEST OR HIGHEST PRICED WHEAT AT WINDSOR MARKET, ON LADY DAY AND MICHAELMAS, FROM 1595 TO 1764 BOTH INCLUSIVE; THE PRICE OF EACH YEAR BEING THE MEDIUM BETWEEN THE HIGHEST PRICES OF THESE TWO MARKET DAYS.
£ s d 1595 2 0 0 1596 2 8 0 1597 3 9 6 1598 2 16 8 1599 1 19 2 1600 1 17 8 1601 1 14 10 1602 1 9 4 1603 1 15 4 1604 1 10 8 1605 1 15 10 1606 1 13 0 1607 1 16 8 1608 2 16 8 1609 2 10 0 1610 1 15 10 1611 1 18 8 1612 2 2 4 1613 2 8 8 1614 2 1 8½ 1615 1 18 8 1616 2 0 4 1617 2 8 8 1618 2 6 8 1619 1 15 4 1620 1 10 4 26)54 0 6½ Average 2 1 6¾
1621 1 10 4 1622 2 18 8 1623 2 12 0 1624 2 8 0 1625 2 12 0 1626 2 9 4 1627 1 16 0 1628 1 8 0 1629 2 2 0 1630 2 15 8 1631 3 8 0 1632 2 13 4 1633 2 18 0 1634 2 16 0 1635 2 16 0 1636 2 16 8 16)40 0 0 Average 2 10 0
1637 2 13 0 1638 2 17 4 1639 2 4 10 1640 2 4 8 1641 2 8 0 1646 2 8 0 1647 3 13 0 1648 4 5 0 1649 4 0 0 1650 3 16 8 1651 3 13 4 1652 2 9 6 1653 1 15 6 1654 1 6 0 1655 1 13 4 1656 2 3 0 1657 2 6 8 1658 3 5 0 1659 3 6 0 1660 2 16 6 1661 3 10 0 1662 3 14 0 1663 2 17 0 1664 2 0 6 1665 2 9 4 1666 1 16 0 1667 1 16 0 1668 2 0 0 1669 2 4 4 1670 2 1 8 1671 2 2 0 1672 2 1 0 1673 2 6 8 1674 3 8 8 1675 3 4 8 1676 1 18 0 1677 2 2 0 1678 2 19 0 1679 3 0 0 1680 2 5 0 1681 2 6 8 1682 2 4 0 1683 2 0 0 1684 2 4 0 1685 2 6 8 1686 1 14 0 1687 1 5 2 1688 2 6 0 1689 1 10 0 1690 1 14 8 1691 1 14 0 1692 2 6 8 1693 3 7 8 1694 3 4 0 1695 2 13 0 1696 3 11 0 1697 3 0 0 1698 3 8 4 1699 3 4 0 1700 2 0 0 60) 153 1 8 Average 2 11 0⅓
1701 1 17 8 1702 1 9 6 1703 1 16 0 1704 2 6 6 1705 1 10 0 1706 1 6 0 1707 1 8 6 1708 2 1 6 1709 3 18 6 1710 3 18 0 1711 2 14 0 1712 2 6 4 1713 2 11 0 1714 2 10 4 1715 2 3 0 1716 2 8 0 1717 2 5 8 1718 1 18 10 1719 1 15 0 1720 1 17 0 1721 1 17 6 1722 1 16 0 1723 1 14 8 1724 1 17 0 1725 2 8 6 1726 2 6 0 1727 2 2 0 1728 2 14 6 1729 2 6 10 1730 1 16 6 1731 1 12 10 1 12 10 1732 1 6 8 1 6 8 1733 1 8 4 1 8 4 1734 1 18 10 1 18 10 1735 2 3 0 2 3 0 1736 2 0 4 2 0 4 1737 1 18 0 1 18 0 1738 1 15 6 1 15 6 1739 1 18 6 1 18 6 1740 2 10 8 2 10 8 10) 18 12 8 1 17 3½
1741 2 6 8 2 6 8 1742 1 14 0 1 14 0 1743 1 4 10 1 4 10 1744 1 4 10 1 4 10 1745 1 7 6 1 7 6 1746 1 19 0 1 19 0 1747 1 14 10 1 14 10 1748 1 17 0 1 17 0 1749 1 17 0 1 17 0 1750 1 12 6 1 12 6 10) 16 18 2 1 13 9¾
1751 1 18 6 1752 2 1 10 1753 2 4 8 1754 1 13 8 1755 1 14 10 1756 2 5 3 1757 3 0 0 1758 2 10 0 1759 1 19 10 1760 1 16 6 1761 1 10 3 1762 1 19 0 1763 2 0 9 1764 2 6 9 64) 129 13 6 Average 2 0 6¾
English
All improvements in the productive powers of labor that directly reduce the rent price of manufactured goods indirectly raise the real rent of land. The landlord exchanges the part of his raw produce that exceeds his own consumption—or, equivalently, its price—for manufactured goods. Whatever lowers the real price of the latter raises the real value of the former. The same quantity of raw produce then commands a greater quantity of manufactured goods, and the landlord can buy more of the conveniences, ornaments, or luxuries he desires.
Every increase in society's real wealth, every increase in the amount of useful labor employed within it, indirectly tends to raise the real rent of land. A certain share of this labor naturally goes into the land. More people and animals work to cultivate it; the produce grows with the stock employed to raise it, and rent grows with the produce.
The opposite conditions—neglect of cultivation and improvement, a fall in the real price of any part of the land's raw produce, a rise in the real price of manufactured goods as manufacturing skill and industry decay, and a decline in society's real wealth—all tend instead to lower the real rent of land, reduce the landlord's real wealth, and diminish his ability to buy either other people's labor or its produce.
The whole annual produce of the land and labor of any country—or, equivalently, the whole price of that produce—naturally divides, as already observed, into three parts: the rent of land, the wages of labor, and the profits of stock. It provides revenue to three distinct groups: those who live on rent, those who live on wages, and those who live on profit. These are the three great, original, constituent groups of every civilized society; from their revenue the revenue of every other group ultimately derives.
The interest of the first of these three great groups, as what has just been said makes clear, is strictly and inseparably bound to society's general interest. Whatever advances or obstructs one necessarily advances or obstructs the other. When the public considers a regulation of commerce or civic administration, landowners cannot mislead it in pursuit of their own group's interest—provided, at least, that they understand that interest tolerably well. Too often, indeed, they lack even this modest understanding. They alone among the three groups receive their revenue without labor or care: it comes to them, as it were, of its own accord, independently of any plans or projects of theirs. The indolence naturally produced by the ease and security of their position too often leaves them not only ignorant but incapable of the sustained attention needed to foresee and understand the consequences of a public regulation.
The interest of the second group, those who live on wages, is as closely bound to society's interest as that of the first. As already shown, workers' wages are highest when the demand for labor rises continually, or when the amount of labor employed increases substantially each year. When society's real wealth becomes stationary, wages soon fall to barely enough to raise a family and perpetuate the laboring population. When society declines, they fall still further. Landowners may gain more from society's prosperity than workers do, but no group suffers so cruelly from its decline. Yet although the worker's interest is closely bound to society's, he can neither grasp society's interest nor understand its connection with his own. His circumstances leave him no time to acquire the necessary information, while his education and habits generally leave him unfit to judge even if he were fully informed. Consequently, his voice is seldom heard in public deliberations and heeded still less, except on particular occasions when his employers stir up, encourage, and support his outcry—not for his purposes, but for their own.
His employers make up the third group, those who live on profit. Stock employed in pursuit of profit sets most of society's useful labor in motion. The plans and projects of those who employ stock govern and direct all the most important operations of labor, and profit is the object of every such plan and project. But unlike rent and wages, the rate of profit does not rise with society's prosperity and fall with its decline. On the contrary, it is naturally low in rich countries and high in poor ones, and always highest in countries advancing most rapidly toward ruin. This third group's interest, therefore, is not linked to society's general interest in the same way as the interests of the other two. Among its members, merchants and master manufacturers are the two classes that commonly employ the largest capitals and, through their wealth, command the greatest share of public attention. Because they spend their whole lives making plans and projects, they often have sharper minds than most country gentlemen. Yet their thoughts usually concern the interest of their own particular branch of business rather than society's; even when their judgment is offered with the utmost candor—which has not always been the case—it is far more reliable on the former subject than on the latter. Their advantage over the country gentleman lies not so much in knowing the public interest as in knowing their own interest better than he knows his. By this superior knowledge of their own interest they have often exploited his generosity, persuading him, in the simple but sincere belief that their interest rather than his was the public's interest, to surrender both his own interest and that of the public. The interests of dealers in any particular branch of trade or manufacturing, however, always differ in some respects from the public's, and may even oppose them. It is always in the dealers' interest to enlarge the market and narrow competition. Enlarging the market may often suit the public interest well enough; narrowing competition must always run against it, and can serve only to let dealers raise their profits above their natural level and levy an absurd tax, for their own benefit, on the rest of their fellow citizens. Any proposal for a new commercial law or regulation from this group should always be heard with great caution and never adopted until it has been examined long and carefully, with not only the most scrupulous but the most suspicious attention. It comes from a group whose interest is never precisely the same as the public's, whose members generally have an interest in deceiving and even oppressing the public, and who have accordingly deceived and oppressed it on many occasions.
PRICES OF WHEAT
Year Prices/Quarter Average of different Average prices of in each year prices in one year each year in money of 1776
£ s d £ s d £ s d 1202 0 12 0 1 16 0 1205 0 12 0 0 13 4 0 13 5 2 0 3 0 15 0 1223 0 12 0 1 16 0 1237 0 3 4 0 10 0 1243 0 2 0 0 6 0 1244 0 2 0 0 6 0 1246 0 16 0 2 8 0 1247 0 13 5 2 0 0 1257 1 4 0 3 12 0 1258 1 0 0 0 15 0 0 17 0 2 11 0 0 16 0 1270 4 16 0 6 8 0 5 12 0 16 16 0 1286 0 2 8 0 16 0 0 9 4 1 8 0 Total 35 9 3 Average 2 19 1¼
1287 0 3 4 0 10 0 1288 0 0 8 0 1 0 0 1 4 0 1 6 0 1 8 0 3 0¼ 0 9 1¾ 0 2 0 0 3 4 0 9 4 1289 0 12 0 0 6 0 0 2 0 0 10 1½ 1 10 4½ 0 10 8 1 0 0 1290 0 16 0 2 8 0 1294 0 16 0 2 8 0 1302 0 4 0 0 12 0 1309 0 7 2 1 1 6 1315 1 0 0 3 0 0 1316 1 0 0 1 10 0 1 10 6 4 11 6 1 12 0 2 0 0 1317 2 4 0 0 14 0 2 13 0 1 19 6 5 18 6 4 0 0 0 6 8 1336 0 2 0 0 6 0 1338 0 3 4 0 10 0 Total 23 4 11¼ Average 1 18 8
1339 0 9 0 1 7 0 1349 0 2 0 0 5 2 1359 1 6 8 3 2 2 1361 0 2 0 0 4 8 1363 0 15 0 1 15 0 1369 1 0 0 1 4 0 1 2 0 2 9 4 1379 0 4 0 0 9 4 1387 0 2 0 0 4 8 1390 0 13 4 0 14 0 0 14 5 1 13 7 0 16 0 1401 0 16 0 1 17 6 1407 0 4 4¾ 0 3 4 0 3 10 0 8 10 1416 0 16 0 1 12 0 Total 15 9 4 Average 1 5 9½
1423 0 8 0 0 1425 0 4 0 0 1434 1 6 8 4 1435 0 5 4 8 1439 1 0 0 1 6 8 1 3 4 2 6 8 1440 1 4 0 2 8 0 1444 0 4 4 0 4 2 0 4 8 0 4 0 1445 0 4 6 0 9 0 1447 0 8 0 0 16 0 1448 0 6 8 0 13 4 1449 0 5 0 0 10 0 1451 0 8 0 0 16 0 Total 12 15 4 Average 1 1 3⅓
1453 0 5 4 0 10 8 1455 0 1 2 0 2 4 1457 0 7 8 1 15 4 1459 0 5 0 0 10 0 1460 0 8 0 0 16 0 1463 0 2 0 0 1 10 0 3 8 0 1 8 1464 0 6 8 0 10 0 1486 1 4 0 1 17 0 1491 0 14 8 1 2 0 1494 0 4 0 0 6 0 1495 0 3 4 0 5 0 1497 1 0 0 1 11 0 Total 8 9 0 Average 0 14 1
1499 0 4 0 0 6 0 1504 0 5 8 0 8 6 1521 1 0 0 1 10 0 1551 0 8 0 0 8 0 1553 0 8 0 0 8 0 1554 0 8 0 0 8 0 1555 0 8 0 0 8 0 1556 0 8 0 0 8 0 1557 0 8 0 0 4 0 0 17 8½ 0 17 8½ 0 5 0 2 13 4 1558 0 8 0 0 8 0 1559 0 8 0 0 8 0 1560 0 8 0 0 8 0 Total 6 0 2½ Average 0 10 0½
1561 0 8 0 0 8 0 1562 0 8 0 0 8 0 1574 2 16 0 1 4 0 2 0 0 2 0 0 1587 3 4 0 3 4 0 1594 2 16 0 2 16 0 1595 2 13 0 2 13 0 1596 4 0 0 4 0 0 1597 5 4 0 4 0 0 4 12 0 4 12 0 1598 2 16 8 2 16 8 1599 1 19 2 1 19 8 1600 1 17 8 1 17 8 1601 1 14 10 1 14 10 Total 28 9 4 Average 2 7 5½
PRICES OF THE QUARTER OF NINE BUSHELS OF THE BEST OR HIGHEST PRICED WHEAT AT WINDSOR MARKET, ON LADY DAY AND MICHAELMAS, FROM 1595 TO 1764 BOTH INCLUSIVE; THE PRICE OF EACH YEAR BEING THE MEDIUM BETWEEN THE HIGHEST PRICES OF THESE TWO MARKET DAYS.
£ s d 1595 2 0 0 1596 2 8 0 1597 3 9 6 1598 2 16 8 1599 1 19 2 1600 1 17 8 1601 1 14 10 1602 1 9 4 1603 1 15 4 1604 1 10 8 1605 1 15 10 1606 1 13 0 1607 1 16 8 1608 2 16 8 1609 2 10 0 1610 1 15 10 1611 1 18 8 1612 2 2 4 1613 2 8 8 1614 2 1 8½ 1615 1 18 8 1616 2 0 4 1617 2 8 8 1618 2 6 8 1619 1 15 4 1620 1 10 4 26)54 0 6½ Average 2 1 6¾
1621 1 10 4 1622 2 18 8 1623 2 12 0 1624 2 8 0 1625 2 12 0 1626 2 9 4 1627 1 16 0 1628 1 8 0 1629 2 2 0 1630 2 15 8 1631 3 8 0 1632 2 13 4 1633 2 18 0 1634 2 16 0 1635 2 16 0 1636 2 16 8 16)40 0 0 Average 2 10 0
1637 2 13 0 1638 2 17 4 1639 2 4 10 1640 2 4 8 1641 2 8 0 1646 2 8 0 1647 3 13 0 1648 4 5 0 1649 4 0 0 1650 3 16 8 1651 3 13 4 1652 2 9 6 1653 1 15 6 1654 1 6 0 1655 1 13 4 1656 2 3 0 1657 2 6 8 1658 3 5 0 1659 3 6 0 1660 2 16 6 1661 3 10 0 1662 3 14 0 1663 2 17 0 1664 2 0 6 1665 2 9 4 1666 1 16 0 1667 1 16 0 1668 2 0 0 1669 2 4 4 1670 2 1 8 1671 2 2 0 1672 2 1 0 1673 2 6 8 1674 3 8 8 1675 3 4 8 1676 1 18 0 1677 2 2 0 1678 2 19 0 1679 3 0 0 1680 2 5 0 1681 2 6 8 1682 2 4 0 1683 2 0 0 1684 2 4 0 1685 2 6 8 1686 1 14 0 1687 1 5 2 1688 2 6 0 1689 1 10 0 1690 1 14 8 1691 1 14 0 1692 2 6 8 1693 3 7 8 1694 3 4 0 1695 2 13 0 1696 3 11 0 1697 3 0 0 1698 3 8 4 1699 3 4 0 1700 2 0 0 60) 153 1 8 Average 2 11 0⅓
1701 1 17 8 1702 1 9 6 1703 1 16 0 1704 2 6 6 1705 1 10 0 1706 1 6 0 1707 1 8 6 1708 2 1 6 1709 3 18 6 1710 3 18 0 1711 2 14 0 1712 2 6 4 1713 2 11 0 1714 2 10 4 1715 2 3 0 1716 2 8 0 1717 2 5 8 1718 1 18 10 1719 1 15 0 1720 1 17 0 1721 1 17 6 1722 1 16 0 1723 1 14 8 1724 1 17 0 1725 2 8 6 1726 2 6 0 1727 2 2 0 1728 2 14 6 1729 2 6 10 1730 1 16 6 1731 1 12 10 1 12 10 1732 1 6 8 1 6 8 1733 1 8 4 1 8 4 1734 1 18 10 1 18 10 1735 2 3 0 2 3 0 1736 2 0 4 2 0 4 1737 1 18 0 1 18 0 1738 1 15 6 1 15 6 1739 1 18 6 1 18 6 1740 2 10 8 2 10 8 10) 18 12 8 1 17 3½
1741 2 6 8 2 6 8 1742 1 14 0 1 14 0 1743 1 4 10 1 4 10 1744 1 4 10 1 4 10 1745 1 7 6 1 7 6 1746 1 19 0 1 19 0 1747 1 14 10 1 14 10 1748 1 17 0 1 17 0 1749 1 17 0 1 17 0 1750 1 12 6 1 12 6 10) 16 18 2 1 13 9¾
1751 1 18 6 1752 2 1 10 1753 2 4 8 1754 1 13 8 1755 1 14 10 1756 2 5 3 1757 3 0 0 1758 2 10 0 1759 1 19 10 1760 1 16 6 1761 1 10 3 1762 1 19 0 1763 2 0 9 1764 2 6 9 64) 129 13 6 Average 2 0 6¾
Book II, Chapter I, 1
18th-century English
OF THE NATURE, ACCUMULATION, AND EMPLOYMENT OF STOCK.
INTRODUCTION.
In that rude state of society, in which there is no division of labour, in which exchanges are seldom made, and in which every man provides every thing for himself, it is not necessary that any stock should be accumulated, or stored up before-hand, in order to carry on the business of the society. Every man endeavours to supply, by his own industry, his own occasional wants, as they occur. When he is hungry, he goes to the forest to hunt; when his coat is worn out, he clothes himself with the skin of the first large animal he kills: and when his hut begins to go to ruin, he repairs it, as well as he can, with the trees and the turf that are nearest it.
But when the division of labour has once been thoroughly introduced, the produce of a man’s own labour can supply but a very small part of his occasional wants. The far greater part of them are supplied by the produce of other men’s labour, which he purchases with the produce, or, what is the same thing, with the price of the produce, of his own. But this purchase cannot be made till such time as the produce of his own labour has not only been completed, but sold. A stock of goods of different kinds, therefore, must be stored up somewhere, sufficient to maintain him, and to supply him with the materials and tools of his work, till such time at least as both these events can be brought about. A weaver cannot apply himself entirely to his peculiar business, unless there is before-hand stored up somewhere, either in his own possession, or in that of some other person, a stock sufficient to maintain him, and to supply him with the materials and tools of his work, till he has not only completed, but sold his web. This accumulation must evidently be previous to his applying his industry for so long a time to such a peculiar business.
As the accumulation of stock must, in the nature of things, be previous to the division of labour, so labour can be more and more subdivided in proportion only as stock is previously more and more accumulated. The quantity of materials which the same number of people can work up, increases in a great proportion as labour comes to be more and more subdivided; and as the operations of each workman are gradually reduced to a greater degree of simplicity, a variety of new machines come to be invented for facilitating and abridging those operations. As the division of labour advances, therefore, in order to give constant employment to an equal number of workmen, an equal stock of provisions, and a greater stock of materials and tools than what would have been necessary in a ruder state of things, must be accumulated before-hand. But the number of workmen in every branch of business generally increases with the division of labour in that branch; or rather it is the increase of their number which enables them to class and subdivide themselves in this manner.
As the accumulation of stock is previously necessary for carrying on this great improvement in the productive powers of labour, so that accumulation naturally leads to this improvement. The person who employs his stock in maintaining labour, necessarily wishes to employ it in such a manner as to produce as great a quantity of work as possible. He endeavours, therefore, both to make among his workmen the most proper distribution of employment, and to furnish them with the best machines which he can either invent or afford to purchase. His abilities, in both these respects, are generally in proportion to the extent of his stock, or to the number of people whom it can employ. The quantity of industry, therefore, not only increases in every country with the increase of the stock which employs it, but, in consequence of that increase, the same quantity of industry produces a much greater quantity of work.
Such are in general the effects of the increase of stock upon industry and its productive powers.
In the following book, I have endeavoured to explain the nature of stock, the effects of its accumulation into capital of different kinds, and the effects of the different employments of those capitals. This book is divided into five chapters. In the first chapter, I have endeavoured to shew what are the different parts or branches into which the stock, either of an individual, or of a great society, naturally divides itself. In the second, I have endeavoured to explain the nature and operation of money, considered as a particular branch of the general stock of the society. The stock which is accumulated into a capital, may either be employed by the person to whom it belongs, or it may be lent to some other person. In the third and fourth chapters, I have endeavoured to examine the manner in which it operates in both these situations. The fifth and last chapter treats of the different effects which the different employments of capital immediately produce upon the quantity, both of national industry, and of the annual produce of land and labour.
OF THE DIVISION OF STOCK.
When the stock which a man possesses is no more than sufficient to maintain him for a few days or a few weeks, he seldom thinks of deriving any revenue from it. He consumes it as sparingly as he can, and endeavours, by his labour, to acquire something which may supply its place before it be consumed altogether. His revenue is, in this case, derived from his labour only. This is the state of the greater part of the labouring poor in all countries.
But when he possesses stock sufficient to maintain him for months or years, he naturally endeavours to derive a revenue from the greater part of it, reserving only so much for his immediate consumption as may maintain him till this revenue begins to come in. His whole stock, therefore, is distinguished into two parts. That part which he expects is to afford him this revenue is called his capital. The other is that which supplies his immediate consumption, and which consists either, first, in that portion of his whole stock which was originally reserved for this purpose; or, secondly, in his revenue, from whatever source derived, as it gradually comes in; or, thirdly, in such things as had been purchased by either of these in former years, and which are not yet entirely consumed, such as a stock of clothes, household furniture, and the like. In one or other, or all of these three articles, consists the stock which men commonly reserve for their own immediate consumption.
There are two different ways in which a capital may be employed so as to yield a revenue or profit to its employer.
First, it may be employed in raising, manufacturing, or purchasing goods, and selling them again with a profit. The capital employed in this manner yields no revenue or profit to its employer, while it either remains in his possession, or continues in the same shape. The goods of the merchant yield him no revenue or profit till he sells them for money, and the money yields him as little till it is again exchanged for goods. His capital is continually going from him in one shape, and returning to him in another; and it is only by means of such circulation, or successive changes, that it can yield him any profit. Such capitals, therefore, may very properly be called circulating capitals.
Secondly, it may be employed in the improvement of land, in the purchase of useful machines and instruments of trade, or in such like things as yield a revenue or profit without changing masters, or circulating any further. Such capitals, therefore, may very properly be called fixed capitals.
Different occupations require very different proportions between the fixed and circulating capitals employed in them.
The capital of a merchant, for example, is altogether a circulating capital. He has occasion for no machines or instruments of trade, unless his shop or warehouse be considered as such.
Some part of the capital of every master artificer or manufacturer must be fixed in the instruments of his trade. This part, however, is very small in some, and very great in others, A master tailor requires no other instruments of trade but a parcel of needles. Those of the master shoemaker are a little, though but a very little, more expensive. Those of the weaver rise a good deal above those of the shoemaker. The far greater part of the capital of all such master artificers, however, is circulated either in the wages of their workmen, or in the price of their materials, and repaid, with a profit, by the price of the work.
In other works a much greater fixed capital is required. In a great iron-work, for example, the furnace for melting the ore, the forge, the slit-mill, are instruments of trade which cannot be erected without a very great expense. In coal works, and mines of every kind, the machinery necessary, both for drawing out the water, and for other purposes, is frequently still more expensive.
That part of the capital of the farmer which is employed in the instruments of agriculture is a fixed, that which is employed in the wages and maintenance of his labouring servants is a circulating capital. He makes a profit of the one by keeping it in his own possession, and of the other by parting with it. The price or value of his labouring cattle is a fixed capital, in the same manner as that of the instruments of husbandry; their maintenance is a circulating capital, in the same manner as that of the labouring servants. The farmer makes his profit by keeping the labouring cattle, and by parting with their maintenance. Both the price and the maintenance of the cattle which are bought in and fattened, not for labour, but for sale, are a circulating capital. The farmer makes his profit by parting with them. A flock of sheep or a herd of cattle, that, in a breeding country, is brought in neither for labour nor for sale, but in order to make a profit by their wool, by their milk, and by their increase, is a fixed capital. The profit is made by keeping them. Their maintenance is a circulating capital. The profit is made by parting with it; and it comes back with both its own profit and the profit upon the whole price of the cattle, in the price of the wool, the milk, and the increase. The whole value of the seed, too, is properly a fixed capital. Though it goes backwards and forwards between the ground and the granary, it never changes masters, and therefore does not properly circulate. The farmer makes his profit, not by its sale, but by its increase.
The general stock of any country or society is the same with that of all its inhabitants or members; and, therefore, naturally divides itself into the same three portions, each of which has a distinct function or office.
English
ON THE NATURE, ACCUMULATION, AND USE OF STOCK.
INTRODUCTION.
In a rudimentary state of society, where there is no division of labor, exchanges are rare, and each person provides everything for himself, no stock need be accumulated or stored in advance to carry on society's business. Each person tries by his own industry to meet his needs as they arise. When hungry, he goes into the forest to hunt; when his coat wears out, he clothes himself in the skin of the first large animal he kills; and when his hut begins to collapse, he repairs it as best he can with the nearest trees and turf.
But once the division of labor is firmly established, the produce of a person's own labor can meet only a very small share of his occasional needs. By far the greater share is met by the produce of other people's labor, which he purchases with the produce—or, equivalently, the price of the produce—of his own. Yet he cannot make this purchase until the produce of his own labor has both been completed and sold. A stock of goods of various kinds must therefore be stored somewhere, enough to maintain him and provide the materials and tools for his work until, at least, both events have taken place. A weaver cannot devote himself wholly to his particular trade unless a stock has already been stored somewhere, whether in his own possession or another's, sufficient to maintain him and provide the materials and tools of his work until he has both finished and sold his cloth. Such accumulation must plainly precede his devoting his industry for so long to this particular occupation.
Just as the accumulation of stock must, by its nature, precede the division of labor, so labor can be divided ever further only as stock has first been accumulated in ever greater quantities. The quantity of materials that the same number of people can work up increases greatly as labor becomes more finely divided; and as each worker's operations are gradually simplified, various new machines are invented to ease and shorten them. As the division of labor advances, therefore, keeping the same number of workers constantly employed requires the prior accumulation of the same stock of provisions and a greater stock of materials and tools than would have been needed in a more rudimentary condition. But the number of workers in each trade generally increases as labor is divided within it—or rather, it is the increase in their number that allows them to sort themselves into classes and subdivisions in this way.
Just as accumulating stock is necessary in advance to bring about this great improvement in the productive powers of labor, so accumulation naturally brings about the improvement. A person who uses his stock to maintain labor necessarily wants to employ it so as to produce as much work as possible. He therefore tries both to distribute tasks among his workers in the most suitable way and to furnish them with the best machines he can invent or afford to buy. His ability in both respects generally corresponds to the extent of his stock, or the number of people it can employ. Thus the quantity of industry in a country grows with the stock that employs it; and, as a result of that growth, the same quantity of industry produces a much greater quantity of work.
Such, in general, are the effects of increasing stock upon industry and its productive powers.
In the following book I have tried to explain the nature of stock, the effects of its accumulation into different kinds of capital, and the effects of the various uses of those capitals. The book has five chapters. In the first, I have tried to show the different parts or branches into which the stock of an individual or a great society naturally divides. In the second, I have tried to explain the nature and operation of money, considered as one particular branch of society's general stock. Stock accumulated as capital may be employed by its owner or lent to someone else. In the third and fourth chapters I have tried to examine how it operates in each situation. The fifth and final chapter concerns the different immediate effects that the various uses of capital have on the quantity of national industry and on the annual produce of land and labor.
ON THE DIVISION OF STOCK.
When a person's stock is only enough to maintain him for a few days or weeks, he seldom thinks of drawing revenue from it. He consumes it as sparingly as possible and tries, through his labor, to acquire something to replace it before it is entirely consumed. His revenue in this case comes solely from his labor. This is the situation of most of the laboring poor in every country.
But when he possesses enough stock to maintain him for months or years, he naturally tries to draw revenue from most of it, reserving for immediate consumption only enough to support him until that revenue begins to arrive. His entire stock is thus divided into two parts. The part from which he expects this revenue is called his capital. The other supplies his immediate consumption and consists, first, of the portion of his total stock originally reserved for this purpose; or, second, of his revenue, whatever its source, as it gradually comes in; or, third, of things bought with either of these in previous years but not yet entirely consumed, such as clothes, household furniture, and the like. One or more of these three items makes up the stock people ordinarily reserve for their immediate consumption.
There are two distinct ways to employ capital so that it yields its employer revenue or profit.
First, it may be employed to grow, manufacture, or buy goods and then resell them at a profit. Capital employed in this way yields its employer no revenue or profit while it remains in his possession or retains the same form. A merchant's goods yield him no revenue or profit until he sells them for money; the money yields him just as little until he exchanges it again for goods. His capital continually leaves him in one form and returns in another; only through this circulation, or succession of changes, can it yield any profit. Such capitals may therefore properly be called circulating capitals.
Second, capital may be employed to improve land, purchase useful machines and instruments of trade, or acquire similar things that yield revenue or profit without changing hands or circulating any further. Such capitals may properly be called fixed capitals.
Different occupations require very different proportions of fixed and circulating capital.
A merchant's capital, for example, is entirely circulating capital. He has no need of machines or instruments of trade, unless his shop or warehouse is counted among them.
Some of every master artisan's or manufacturer's capital must be fixed in the instruments of his trade. In some trades, however, this share is very small, and in others very large. A master tailor needs no instruments beyond a set of needles. A master shoemaker's instruments are a little, though only a little, more expensive. A weaver's cost considerably more than a shoemaker's. By far the greater part of the capital of all such master artisans, however, circulates either as wages for their workers or as payment for their materials, and is repaid, with a profit, in the price of the finished work.
Other kinds of work require much greater fixed capital. In a large ironworks, for example, the furnace for smelting ore, the forge, and the slitting mill are instruments of trade that cannot be built without very great expense. In coalworks and mines of every sort, the machinery needed to draw out water and serve other purposes is often still more costly.
The part of a farmer's capital employed in agricultural instruments is fixed capital; the part employed in the wages and maintenance of his laboring servants is circulating capital. He profits from the first by keeping it and from the second by parting with it. The price or value of his working animals is fixed capital, like the value of his farming instruments; their maintenance is circulating capital, like the maintenance of his laboring servants. The farmer profits by keeping the working animals and parting with what maintains them. Both the price and the maintenance of animals bought and fattened for sale rather than work are circulating capital. The farmer profits by parting with them. A flock of sheep or herd of cattle in a breeding country, acquired neither for work nor for sale but to earn a profit from its wool, milk, and offspring, is fixed capital. The profit comes from keeping the animals. Their maintenance is circulating capital: profit comes from parting with it, and it returns in the price of the wool, milk, and offspring, along with its own profit and the profit on the animals' entire price. The full value of seed, too, is properly fixed capital. Though it moves back and forth between the ground and the granary, it never changes hands and therefore does not properly circulate. The farmer profits not by selling it but by increasing it.
The general stock of a country or society is identical with the stock of all its inhabitants or members and therefore naturally divides into the same three portions, each with its distinct function or purpose.
Book II, Chapter I, 2
18th-century English
The first is that portion which is reserved for immediate consumption, and of which the characteristic is, that it affords no revenue or profit. It consists in the stock of food, clothes, household furniture, etc. which have been purchased by their proper consumers, but which are not yet entirely consumed. The whole stock of mere dwelling-houses, too, subsisting at any one time in the country, make a part of this first portion. The stock that is laid out in a house, if it is to be the dwelling-house of the proprietor, ceases from that moment to serve in the function of a capital, or to afford any revenue to its owner. A dwelling-house, as such, contributes nothing to the revenue of its inhabitant; and though it is, no doubt, extremely useful to him, it is as his clothes and household furniture are useful to him, which, however, make a part of his expense, and not of his revenue. If it is to be let to a tenant for rent, as the house itself can produce nothing, the tenant must always pay the rent out of some other revenue, which he derives, either from labour, or stock, or land. Though a house, therefore, may yield a revenue to its proprietor, and thereby serve in the function of a capital to him, it cannot yield any to the public, nor serve in the function of a capital to it, and the revenue of the whole body of the people can never be in the smallest degree increased by it. Clothes and household furniture, in the same manner, sometimes yield a revenue, and thereby serve in the function of a capital to particular persons. In countries where masquerades are common, it is a trade to let out masquerade dresses for a night. Upholsterers frequently let furniture by the month or by the year. Undertakers let the furniture of funerals by the day and by the week. Many people let furnished houses, and get a rent, not only for the use of the house, but for that of the furniture. The revenue, however, which is derived from such things, must always be ultimately drawn from some other source of revenue. Of all parts of the stock, either of an individual or of a society, reserved for immediate consumption, what is laid out in houses is most slowly consumed. A stock of clothes may last several years; a stock of furniture half a century or a century; but a stock of houses, well built and properly taken care of, may last many centuries. Though the period of their total consumption, however, is more distant, they are still as really a stock reserved for immediate consumption as either clothes or household furniture.
The second of the three portions into which the general stock of the society divides itself, is the fixed capital; of which the characteristic is, that it affords a revenue or profit without circulating or changing masters. It consists chiefly of the four following articles.
First, of all useful machines and instruments of trade, which facilitate and abridge labour.
Secondly, of all those profitable buildings which are the means of procuring a revenue, not only to the proprietor who lets them for a rent, but to the person who possesses them, and pays that rent for them; such as shops, warehouses, work-houses, farm-houses, with all their necessary buildings, stables, granaries, etc. These are very different from mere dwelling-houses. They are a sort of instruments of trade, and may be considered in the same light.
Thirdly, of the improvements of land, of what has been profitably laid out in clearing, draining, inclosing, manuring, and reducing it into the condition most proper for tillage and culture. An improved farm may very justly be regarded in the same light as those useful machines which facilitate and abridge labour, and by means of which an equal circulating capital can afford a much greater revenue to its employer. An improved farm is equally advantageous and more durable than any of those machines, frequently requiring no other repairs than the most profitable application of the farmer’s capital employed in cultivating it.
Fourthly, of the acquired and useful abilities of all the inhabitants and members of the society. The acquisition of such talents, by the maintenance of the acquirer during his education, study, or apprenticeship, always costs a real expense, which is a capital fixed and realized, as it were, in his person. Those talents, as they make a part of his fortune, so do they likewise that of the society to which he belongs. The improved dexterity of a workman may be considered in the same light as a machine or instrument of trade which facilitates and abridges labour, and which, though it costs a certain expense, repays that expense with a profit.
The third and last of the three portions into which the general stock of the society naturally divides itself, is the circulating capital, of which the characteristic is, that it affords a revenue only by circulating or changing masters. It is composed likewise of four parts.
First, of the money, by means of which all the other three are circulated and distributed to their proper consumers.
Secondly, of the stock of provisions which are in the possession of the butcher, the grazier, the farmer, the corn-merchant, the brewer, etc. and from the sale of which they expect to derive a profit.
Thirdly, of the materials, whether altogether rude, or more or less manufactured, of clothes, furniture, and building which are not yet made up into any of those three shapes, but which remain in the hands of the growers, the manufacturers, the mercers, and drapers, the timber-merchants, the carpenters and joiners, the brick-makers, etc.
Fourthly, and lastly, of the work which is made up and completed, but which is still in the hands of the merchant and manufacturer, and not yet disposed of or distributed to the proper consumers; such as the finished work which we frequently find ready made in the shops of the smith, the cabinet-maker, the goldsmith, the jeweller, the china-merchant, etc. The circulating capital consists, in this manner, of the provisions, materials, and finished work of all kinds that are in the hands of their respective dealers, and of the money that is necessary for circulating and distributing them to those who are finally to use or to consume them.
Of these four parts, three—provisions, materials, and finished work, are either annually or in a longer or shorter period, regularly withdrawn from it, and placed either in the fixed capital, or in the stock reserved for immediate consumption.
Every fixed capital is both originally derived from, and requires to be continually supported by, a circulating capital. All useful machines and instruments of trade are originally derived from a circulating capital, which furnishes the materials of which they are made, and the maintenance of the workmen who make them. They require, too, a capital of the same kind to keep them in constant repair.
No fixed capital can yield any revenue but by means of a circulating capital. The most useful machines and instruments of trade will produce nothing, without the circulating capital, which affords the materials they are employed upon, and the maintenance of the workmen who employ them. Land, however improved, will yield no revenue without a circulating capital, which maintains the labourers who cultivate and collect its produce.
To maintain and augment the stock which may be reserved for immediate consumption, is the sole end and purpose both of the fixed and circulating capitals. It is this stock which feeds, clothes, and lodges the people. Their riches or poverty depend upon the abundant or sparing supplies which those two capitals can afford to the stock reserved for immediate consumption.
So great a part of the circulating capital being continually withdrawn from it, in order to be placed in the other two branches of the general stock of the society, it must in its turn require continual supplies without which it would soon cease to exist. These supplies are principally drawn from three sources; the produce of land, of mines, and of fisheries. These afford continual supplies of provisions and materials, of which part is afterwards wrought up into finished work and by which are replaced the provisions, materials, and finished work, continually withdrawn from the circulating capital. From mines, too, is drawn what is necessary for maintaining and augmenting that part of it which consists in money. For though, in the ordinary course of business, this part is not, like the other three, necessarily withdrawn from it, in order to be placed in the other two branches of the general stock of the society, it must, however, like all other things, be wasted and worn out at last, and sometimes, too, be either lost or sent abroad, and must, therefore, require continual, though no doubt much smaller supplies.
Land, mines, and fisheries, require all both a fixed and circulating capital to cultivate them; and their produce replaces, with a profit not only those capitals, but all the others in the society. Thus the farmer annually replaces to the manufacturer the provisions which he had consumed, and the materials which he had wrought up the year before; and the manufacturer replaces to the farmer the finished work which he had wasted and worn out in the same time. This is the real exchange that is annually made between those two orders of people, though it seldom happens that the rude produce of the one, and the manufactured produce of the other, are directly bartered for one another; because it seldom happens that the farmer sells his corn and his cattle, his flax and his wool, to the very same person of whom he chuses to purchase the clothes, furniture, and instruments of trade, which he wants. He sells, therefore, his rude produce for money, with which he can purchase, wherever it is to be had, the manufactured produce he has occasion for. Land even replaces, in part at least, the capitals with which fisheries and mines are cultivated. It is the produce of land which draws the fish from the waters; and it is the produce of the surface of the earth which extracts the minerals from its bowels.
The produce of land, mines, and fisheries, when their natural fertility is equal, is in proportion to the extent and proper application of the capitals employed about them. When the capitals are equal, and equally well applied, it is in proportion to their natural fertility.
In all countries where there is a tolerable security, every man of common understanding will endeavour to employ whatever stock he can command, in procuring either present enjoyment or future profit. If it is employed in procuring present enjoyment, it is a stock reserved for immediate consumption. If it is employed in procuring future profit, it must procure this profit either by staying with him, or by going from him. In the one case it is a fixed, in the other it is a circulating capital. A man must be perfectly crazy, who, where there is a tolerable security, does not employ all the stock which he commands, whether it be his own, or borrowed of other people, in some one or other of those three ways.
In those unfortunate countries, indeed, where men are continually afraid of the violence of their superiors, they frequently bury or conceal a great part of their stock, in order to have it always at hand to carry with them to some place of safety, in case of their being threatened with any of those disasters to which they consider themselves at all times exposed. This is said to be a common practice in Turkey, in Indostan, and, I believe, in most other governments of Asia. It seems to have been a common practice among our ancestors during the violence of the feudal government. Treasure-trove was, in those times, considered as no contemptible part of the revenue of the greatest sovereigns in Europe. It consisted in such treasure as was found concealed in the earth, and to which no particular person could prove any right. This was regarded, in those times, as so important an object, that it was always considered as belonging to the sovereign, and neither to the finder nor to the proprietor of the land, unless the right to it had been conveyed to the latter by an express clause in his charter. It was put upon the same footing with gold and silver mines, which, without a special clause in the charter, were never supposed to be comprehended in the general grant of the lands, though mines of lead, copper, tin, and coal were, as things of smaller consequence.
English
The first portion is reserved for immediate consumption, and its distinguishing feature is that it yields no revenue or profit. It consists of food, clothes, household furniture, and the like, purchased by those who will use them but not yet entirely consumed. The entire stock of mere dwelling houses existing in a country at any one time also belongs to this first portion. Stock invested in a house, if the house is to be its owner's dwelling, ceases from that moment to function as capital or to yield its owner revenue. A dwelling house, as such, adds nothing to its occupant's revenue; though certainly very useful to him, it is useful in the same way as his clothes and household furniture, which are part of his expense, not his revenue. If the house is rented to a tenant, since it can produce nothing itself, the tenant must always pay the rent from some other revenue derived from labor, stock, or land. Thus, though a house may yield its owner revenue and so function as capital for him, it cannot yield the public revenue or function as capital for the public; it cannot increase the revenue of the people as a whole in the least. Clothes and household furniture, likewise, sometimes yield revenue and so function as capital for particular people. In countries where masquerades are common, renting out masquerade costumes for an evening is a business. Upholsterers often rent out furniture by the month or year. Undertakers rent out funeral furnishings by the day or week. Many people rent out furnished houses and receive rent not only for the house but also for the furniture. The revenue derived from such things, however, must ultimately be drawn from another source of revenue. Among all the parts of an individual's or society's stock reserved for immediate consumption, the portion invested in houses is consumed most slowly. Clothes may last several years; furniture may last half a century or a century; but houses, well built and properly maintained, may last many centuries. Though they take longer to be consumed entirely, they are just as truly stock reserved for immediate consumption as clothes or household furniture.
The second of the three portions into which society's general stock divides is fixed capital, whose distinguishing feature is that it yields revenue or profit without circulating or changing hands. It consists chiefly of the following four kinds of things.
First, all useful machines and instruments of trade that ease and shorten labor.
Second, all profitable buildings that provide revenue not only to the owner who rents them out but also to the person who occupies them and pays the rent: shops, warehouses, workshops, farmhouses, with all their necessary outbuildings, stables, granaries, and the like. These differ markedly from mere dwelling houses. They are a kind of instrument of trade and may be considered in the same light.
Third, improvements to land: money profitably spent clearing, draining, enclosing, manuring, and bringing land into the condition best suited to tillage and cultivation. An improved farm may rightly be regarded in the same light as useful machines that ease and shorten labor and allow an equal amount of circulating capital to yield its employer much greater revenue. An improved farm is just as beneficial and more durable than any such machine, often requiring no repairs beyond the farmer's most profitable application of capital in cultivating it.
Fourth, the acquired and useful abilities of all the inhabitants and members of society. Acquiring such abilities, through the maintenance of the learner during education, study, or apprenticeship, always involves a real expense: capital fixed and embodied, as it were, in the person. As these abilities form part of his fortune, so they form part of the fortune of the society to which he belongs. A worker's improved skill may be considered in the same light as a machine or instrument of trade that eases and shortens labor and, though it costs something, repays the expense with a profit.
The third and last portion into which society's general stock naturally divides is circulating capital, whose distinguishing feature is that it yields revenue only by circulating or changing hands. It too consists of four parts.
First, money, by which the other three parts are circulated and distributed to their eventual consumers.
Second, the stock of provisions held by butchers, graziers, farmers, grain merchants, brewers, and others who expect a profit from selling them.
Third, the materials for clothes, furniture, and buildings, whether wholly raw or more or less manufactured, that have not yet been made into any of those three finished forms but remain in the hands of growers, manufacturers, sellers of fine fabrics and drapers, timber merchants, carpenters and joiners, brickmakers, and others.
Fourth and last, completed work that is still in the hands of merchants and manufacturers and has not yet been sold or distributed to its eventual consumers: the finished articles we often find ready-made in the shops of smiths, cabinetmakers, goldsmiths, jewelers, china merchants, and others. Circulating capital thus consists of provisions, materials, and finished work of all kinds in the hands of their respective dealers, together with the money needed to circulate and distribute them to those who will finally use or consume them.
Of these four parts, three—provisions, materials, and finished work—are regularly withdrawn from circulating capital, whether annually or after a longer or shorter period, and placed either in fixed capital or in stock reserved for immediate consumption.
Every fixed capital both originates in and must be continually supported by circulating capital. All useful machines and instruments of trade originally come from circulating capital, which supplies the materials from which they are made and maintains the workers who make them. Capital of the same kind is also needed to keep them in constant repair.
No fixed capital can yield revenue except through circulating capital. The most useful machines and instruments of trade will produce nothing without circulating capital to supply the materials on which they work and maintain the workers who operate them. Land, however much improved, will yield no revenue without circulating capital to maintain the laborers who cultivate it and gather its produce.
The sole purpose of both fixed and circulating capitals is to maintain and enlarge the stock that may be reserved for immediate consumption. It is this stock that feeds, clothes, and houses the people. Their wealth or poverty depends on the abundance or scarcity with which those two kinds of capital can supply the stock reserved for immediate consumption.
Because so much circulating capital is continually withdrawn and placed in the other two branches of society's general stock, circulating capital must in turn be continually replenished or it would soon cease to exist. Its supplies come chiefly from three sources: the produce of land, mines, and fisheries. These continually supply provisions and materials, some of which are subsequently made into finished work, replacing the provisions, materials, and finished work continually withdrawn from circulating capital. Mines also supply what is needed to maintain and enlarge the part consisting of money. For although money, in the ordinary course of business, is not necessarily withdrawn from circulating capital and placed in the other two branches of society's general stock, as the other three parts are, it must eventually wear away like everything else; sometimes, too, it is lost or sent abroad. It therefore requires continual replenishment, though undoubtedly on a much smaller scale.
Land, mines, and fisheries all require both fixed and circulating capital to work them; their produce replaces, with a profit, not only these capitals but all the others in society. Thus each year the farmer replaces the provisions the manufacturer consumed and the materials he worked up during the previous year; and the manufacturer replaces the finished work the farmer wore out in the same period. This is the real exchange made annually between these two groups, although the raw produce of one is seldom directly bartered for the manufactured produce of the other: the farmer seldom sells his grain and cattle, flax and wool, to the very person from whom he chooses to buy the clothes, furniture, and instruments of trade he needs. He therefore sells his raw produce for money, with which he can buy the manufactured produce he needs wherever it is available. Land even replaces, at least in part, the capital employed to work fisheries and mines. It is the produce of land that draws fish from the waters, and the produce of the earth's surface that extracts minerals from its depths.
Where their natural fertility is equal, the produce of land, mines, and fisheries is proportional to the amount and proper use of the capital employed on them. Where the capitals are equal and equally well used, it is proportional to their natural fertility.
In every country with reasonable security, any person of ordinary understanding will try to employ whatever stock he can command in obtaining either present enjoyment or future profit. If employed to obtain present enjoyment, it is stock reserved for immediate consumption. If employed to obtain future profit, it must earn that profit either by staying with him or by leaving him. In the first case it is fixed capital; in the second, circulating capital. Where there is reasonable security, a person would have to be utterly irrational not to employ all the stock he controls, whether his own or borrowed from others, in one of these three ways.
In those unfortunate countries where people continually fear violence from their superiors, they often bury or conceal a great part of their stock so they can always have it at hand to carry to safety if threatened by one of the disasters to which they believe themselves constantly exposed. This is said to be common practice in Turkey and Indostan and, I believe, under most other governments in Asia. It seems to have been common among our ancestors under the violent feudal government. Treasure-trove was then considered a substantial part of the revenue of Europe's greatest sovereigns. It consisted of treasure found hidden in the ground to which no particular person could prove a right. At that time it was deemed so important that it was always held to belong to the sovereign, rather than to the finder or the landowner, unless the latter had been granted the right by an express clause in his charter. It was treated like gold and silver mines, which, without a special clause in the charter, were never assumed to be included in a general grant of land, though mines of lead, copper, tin, and coal were included as matters of lesser importance.
Book II, Chapter II, 1
18th-century English
OF MONEY, CONSIDERED AS A PARTICULAR BRANCH OF THE GENERAL STOCK OF THE SOCIETY, OR OF THE EXPENSE OF MAINTAINING THE NATIONAL CAPITAL.
It has been shown in the First Book, that the price of the greater part of commodities resolves itself into three parts, of which one pays the wages of the labour, another the profits of the stock, and a third the rent of the land which had been employed in producing and bringing them to market: that there are, indeed, some commodities of which the price is made up of two of those parts only, the wages of labour, and the profits of stock; and a very few in which it consists altogether in one, the wages of labour; but that the price of every commodity necessarily resolves itself into some one or other, or all, of those three parts; every part of it which goes neither to rent nor to wages, being necessarily profit to some body.
Since this is the case, it has been observed, with regard to every particular commodity, taken separately, it must be so with regard to all the commodities which compose the whole annual produce of the land and labour of every country, taken complexly. The whole price or exchangeable value of that annual produce must resolve itself into the same three parts, and be parcelled out among the different inhabitants of the country, either as the wages of their labour, the profits of their stock, or the rent of their land.
But though the whole value of the annual produce of the land and labour of every country, is thus divided among, and constitutes a revenue to, its different inhabitants; yet, as in the rent of a private estate, we distinguish between the gross rent and the neat rent, so may we likewise in the revenue of all the inhabitants of a great country.
The gross rent of a private estate comprehends whatever is paid by the farmer; the neat rent, what remains free to the landlord, after deducting the expense of management, of repairs, and all other necessary charges; or what, without hurting his estate, he can afford to place in his stock reserved for immediate consumption, or to spend upon his table, equipage, the ornaments of his house and furniture, his private enjoyments and amusements. His real wealth is in proportion, not to his gross, but to his neat rent.
The gross revenue of all the inhabitants of a great country comprehends the whole annual produce of their land and labour; the neat revenue, what remains free to them, after deducting the expense of maintaining first, their fixed, and, secondly, their circulating capital, or what, without encroaching upon their capital, they can place in their stock reserved for immediate consumption, or spend upon their subsistence, conveniencies, and amusements. Their real wealth, too, is in proportion, not to their gross, but to their neat revenue.
The whole expense of maintaining the fixed capital must evidently be excluded from the neat revenue of the society. Neither the materials necessary for supporting their useful machines and instruments of trade, their profitable buildings, etc. nor the produce of the labour necessary for fashioning those materials into the proper form, can ever make any part of it. The price of that labour may indeed make a part of it; as the workmen so employed may place the whole value of their wages in their stock reserved for immediate consumption. But in other sorts of labour, both the price and the produce go to this stock; the price to that of the workmen, the produce to that of other people, whose subsistence, conveniencies, and amusements, are augmented by the labour of those workmen.
The intention of the fixed capital is to increase the productive powers of labour, or to enable the same number of labourers to perform a much greater quantity of work. In a farm where all the necessary buildings, fences, drains, communications, etc. are in the most perfect good order, the same number of labourers and labouring cattle will raise a much greater produce, than in one of equal extent and equally good ground, but not furnished with equal conveniencies. In manufactures, the same number of hands, assisted with the best machinery, will work up a much greater quantity of goods than with more imperfect instruments of trade. The expense which is properly laid out upon a fixed capital of any kind, is always repaid with great profit, and increases the annual produce by a much greater value than that of the support which such improvements require. This support, however, still requires a certain portion of that produce. A certain quantity of materials, and the labour of a certain number of workmen, both of which might have been immediately employed to augment the food, clothing, and lodging, the subsistence and conveniencies of the society, are thus diverted to another employment, highly advantageous indeed, but still different from this one. It is upon this account that all such improvements in mechanics, as enable the same number of workmen to perform an equal quantity of work with cheaper and simpler machinery than had been usual before, are always regarded as advantageous to every society. A certain quantity of materials, and the labour of a certain number of workmen, which had before been employed in supporting a more complex and expensive machinery, can afterwards be applied to augment the quantity of work which that or any other machinery is useful only for performing. The undertaker of some great manufactory, who employs a thousand a-year in the maintenance of his machinery, if he can reduce this expense to five hundred, will naturally employ the other five hundred in purchasing an additional quantity of materials, to be wrought up by an additional number of workmen. The quantity of that work, therefore, which his machinery was useful only for performing, will naturally be augmented, and with it all the advantage and conveniency which the society can derive from that work.
The expense of maintaining the fixed capital in a great country, may very properly be compared to that of repairs in a private estate. The expense of repairs may frequently be necessary for supporting the produce of the estate, and consequently both the gross and the neat rent of the landlord. When by a more proper direction, however, it can be diminished without occasioning any diminution of produce, the gross rent remains at least the same as before, and the neat rent is necessarily augmented.
But though the whole expense of maintaining the fixed capital is thus necessarily excluded from the neat revenue of the society, it is not the same case with that of maintaining the circulating capital. Of the four parts of which this latter capital is composed, money, provisions, materials, and finished work, the three last, it has already been observed, are regularly withdrawn from it, and placed either in the fixed capital of the society, or in their stock reserved for immediate consumption. Whatever portion of those consumable goods is not employed in maintaining the former, goes all to the latter, and makes a part of the neat revenue of the society. The maintenance of those three parts of the circulating capital, therefore, withdraws no portion of the annual produce from the neat revenue of the society, besides what is necessary for maintaining the fixed capital.
The circulating capital of a society is in this respect different from that of an individual. That of an individual is totally excluded from making any part of his neat revenue, which must consist altogether in his profits. But though the circulating capital of every individual makes a part of that of the society to which he belongs, it is not upon that account totally excluded from making a part likewise of their neat revenue. Though the whole goods in a merchant’s shop must by no means be placed in his own stock reserved for immediate consumption, they may in that of other people, who, from a revenue derived from other funds, may regularly replace their value to him, together with its profits, without occasioning any diminution either of his capital or of theirs.
Money, therefore, is the only part of the circulating capital of a society, of which the maintenance can occasion any diminution in their neat revenue.
The fixed capital, and that part of the circulating capital which consists in money, so far as they affect the revenue of the society, bear a very great resemblance to one another.
First, as those machines and instruments of trade, etc. require a certain expense, first to erect them, and afterwards to support them, both which expenses, though they make a part of the gross, are deductions from the neat revenue of the society; so the stock of money which circulates in any country must require a certain expense, first to collect it, and afterwards to support it; both which expenses, though they make a part of the gross, are, in the same manner, deductions from the neat revenue of the society. A certain quantity of very valuable materials, gold and silver, and of very curious labour, instead of augmenting the stock reserved for immediate consumption, the subsistence, conveniencies, and amusements of individuals, is employed in supporting that great but expensive instrument of commerce, by means of which every individual in the society has his subsistence, conveniencies, and amusements, regularly distributed to him in their proper proportions.
Secondly, as the machines and instruments of trade, etc. which compose the fixed capital either of an individual or of a society, make no part either of the gross or of the neat revenue of either; so money, by means of which the whole revenue of the society is regularly distributed among all its different members, makes itself no part of that revenue. The great wheel of circulation is altogether different from the goods which are circulated by means of it. The revenue of the society consists altogether in those goods, and not in the wheel which circulates them. In computing either the gross or the neat revenue of any society, we must always, from the whole annual circulation of money and goods, deduct the whole value of the money, of which not a single farthing can ever make any part of either.
It is the ambiguity of language only which can make this proposition appear either doubtful or paradoxical. When properly explained and understood, it is almost self-evident.
When we talk of any particular sum of money, we sometimes mean nothing but the metal pieces of which it is composed, and sometimes we include in our meaning some obscure reference to the goods which can be had in exchange for it, or to the power of purchasing which the possession of it conveys. Thus, when we say that the circulating money of England has been computed at eighteen millions, we mean only to express the amount of the metal pieces, which some writers have computed, or rather have supposed, to circulate in that country. But when we say that a man is worth fifty or a hundred pounds a-year, we mean commonly to express, not only the amount of the metal pieces which are annually paid to him, but the value of the goods which he can annually purchase or consume; we mean commonly to ascertain what is or ought to be his way of living, or the quantity and quality of the necessaries and conveniencies of life in which he can with propriety indulge himself.
When, by any particular sum of money, we mean not only to express the amount of the metal pieces of which it is composed, but to include in its signification some obscure reference to the goods which can be had in exchange for them, the wealth or revenue which it in this case denotes, is equal only to one of the two values which are thus intimated somewhat ambiguously by the same word, and to the latter more properly than to the former, to the money’s worth more properly than to the money.
Thus, if a guinea be the weekly pension of a particular person, he can in the course of the week purchase with it a certain quantity of subsistence, conveniencies, and amusements. In proportion as this quantity is great or small, so are his real riches, his real weekly revenue. His weekly revenue is certainly not equal both to the guinea and to what can be purchased with it, but only to one or other of those two equal values, and to the latter more properly than to the former, to the guinea’s worth rather than to the guinea.
If the pension of such a person was paid to him, not in gold, but in a weekly bill for a guinea, his revenue surely would not so properly consist in the piece of paper, as in what he could get for it. A guinea may be considered as a bill for a certain quantity of necessaries and conveniencies upon all the tradesmen in the neighbourhood. The revenue of the person to whom it is paid, does not so properly consist in the piece of gold, as in what he can get for it, or in what he can exchange it for. If it could be exchanged for nothing, it would, like a bill upon a bankrupt, be of no more value than the most useless piece of paper.
Though the weekly or yearly revenue of all the different inhabitants of any country, in the same manner, may be, and in reality frequently is, paid to them in money, their real riches, however, the real weekly or yearly revenue of all of them taken together, must always be great or small, in proportion to the quantity of consumable goods which they can all of them purchase with this money. The whole revenue of all of them taken together is evidently not equal to both the money and the consumable goods, but only to one or other of those two values, and to the latter more properly than to the former.
Though we frequently, therefore, express a person’s revenue by the metal pieces which are annually paid to him, it is because the amount of those pieces regulates the extent of his power of purchasing, or the value of the goods which he can annually afford to consume. We still consider his revenue as consisting in this power of purchasing or consuming, and not in the pieces which convey it.
English
On Money, Considered as a Particular Branch of Society’s General Stock, or on the Expense of Maintaining the National Capital
The First Book showed that the price of most commodities can be divided into three parts: one pays the wages of the labor employed in producing and bringing them to market, another pays the profits on the stock, and a third pays the rent of the land. Some commodities, it is true, have prices made up of only two of these parts, wages and profit; a very few have prices made up entirely of one, wages. But the price of every commodity must consist of one or more of these three parts: whatever does not go to rent or wages must necessarily be somebody’s profit.
Since this holds for each commodity taken separately, it must also hold for all the commodities that together make up the annual produce of a country’s land and labor. The total price, or exchangeable value, of that annual produce must be divided into the same three parts and distributed among the country’s inhabitants as the wages of their labor, the profits of their stock, or the rent of their land.
Yet although the entire value of a country’s annual produce is thus divided among its inhabitants and becomes their revenue, we may distinguish between their gross and net revenue, just as we distinguish between the gross and net rent of a private estate.
The gross rent of a private estate includes everything paid by the farmer. Its net rent is what remains at the landlord’s disposal after the expenses of management, repairs, and all other necessary charges have been deducted: what he can add to his stock reserved for immediate consumption, or spend on his table, carriage and attendants, the decoration of his house and furniture, and his personal pleasures and amusements, without damaging his estate. His real wealth corresponds not to his gross rent but to his net rent.
The gross revenue of all the inhabitants of a great country includes the whole annual produce of their land and labor. Their net revenue is what remains at their disposal after deducting the cost of maintaining, first, their fixed capital and, second, their circulating capital: what they can add to their stock reserved for immediate consumption, or spend on their subsistence, comforts, and amusements, without diminishing their capital. Their real wealth, too, corresponds not to gross but to net revenue.
The entire cost of maintaining fixed capital must plainly be excluded from society’s net revenue. Neither the materials required to maintain its useful machines, instruments of trade, profitable buildings, and the like, nor the products of the labor needed to fashion those materials into their proper forms, can form any part of that revenue. The wages paid for that labor may indeed form part of it, since the workers may put the full value of their wages into their stock reserved for immediate consumption. But with other kinds of labor, both the payment and the product enter this stock: the payment enters the workers’ stock, and the product enters the stock of other people, whose subsistence, comforts, and amusements are increased by the workers’ labor.
The purpose of fixed capital is to increase the productive powers of labor, enabling the same number of laborers to perform much more work. On a farm where all necessary buildings, fences, drains, roads, and the like are in excellent condition, the same number of laborers and working animals will produce much more than on a farm of equal size and equally good soil without equal conveniences. In manufacture, the same number of workers using the best machinery will work up far more goods than they would with less perfect instruments. Money properly spent on fixed capital of any kind is always repaid with a large profit and increases annual produce by far more than the cost of maintaining the improvements. Nevertheless, their maintenance still requires part of that produce. Materials and the labor of workers that might have been used directly to increase society’s food, clothing, housing, subsistence, and comforts are diverted to another purpose—highly beneficial, but different. This is why any mechanical improvement that lets the same number of workers perform the same amount of work with cheaper, simpler machinery than before is always considered beneficial to society. Materials and workers formerly needed to maintain a more complex and expensive machine can then be put to work increasing the output for which that or any other machine exists. A manufacturer spending a thousand a year to maintain his machinery will naturally spend the other five hundred on additional materials and workers if he can cut that expense to five hundred. The work his machinery exists to perform will therefore increase, along with all the benefits and conveniences society derives from it.
The cost of maintaining fixed capital in a great country may aptly be compared to the cost of repairing a private estate. Repairs may often be needed to sustain the estate’s produce, and therefore both the landlord’s gross and net rent. But if better management reduces their cost without reducing the produce, gross rent remains at least unchanged and net rent necessarily rises.
Although the entire cost of maintaining fixed capital must thus be excluded from society’s net revenue, the same is not true of maintaining circulating capital. This capital has four parts—money, provisions, materials, and finished goods. As already observed, the last three are regularly taken out of circulating capital and put either into society’s fixed capital or into its stock reserved for immediate consumption. Whatever share of these consumable goods is not used to maintain fixed capital enters the latter stock and forms part of society’s net revenue. Maintaining these three parts of circulating capital therefore takes away no part of annual produce from society’s net revenue beyond what is needed to maintain fixed capital.
In this respect, society’s circulating capital differs from an individual’s. None of an individual’s circulating capital forms part of his net revenue, which consists entirely of his profits. But although each individual’s circulating capital forms part of society’s circulating capital, it is not for that reason entirely excluded from society’s net revenue. The whole stock in a merchant’s shop certainly cannot be counted among the goods he reserves for his own immediate consumption. It may, however, enter the stock of others, who can regularly pay him its value and his profit out of revenue drawn from other sources, without reducing either his capital or theirs.
Money, then, is the only part of society’s circulating capital whose maintenance can diminish its net revenue.
Fixed capital and the money portion of circulating capital closely resemble one another in their effects on society’s revenue.
First, machines and instruments of trade cost money both to build and to maintain; both costs, though part of gross revenue, are deductions from society’s net revenue. In the same way, the stock of money circulating in a country costs money both to acquire and to maintain; both costs, though part of gross revenue, are likewise deductions from net revenue. Valuable materials, gold and silver, and highly skilled labor are devoted to maintaining this great but expensive instrument of commerce. They are not used to increase the stock reserved for immediate consumption—the subsistence, comforts, and amusements of individuals—which this instrument distributes in due proportion among all members of society.
Second, the machines and instruments of trade that make up an individual’s or society’s fixed capital form no part of either gross or net revenue. Nor does money, though it serves to distribute society’s entire revenue among its members, itself form any part of that revenue. The great wheel of circulation is quite different from the goods it circulates. Society’s revenue consists of those goods, not of the wheel that circulates them. In calculating either gross or net revenue, we must therefore subtract the entire value of money from the annual circulation of money and goods: not a single farthing of it can form part of either revenue.
Only an ambiguity of language can make this proposition seem doubtful or paradoxical. Once properly explained and understood, it is almost self-evident.
When we speak of a particular sum of money, sometimes we mean only the pieces of metal that compose it; at other times we also vaguely refer to the goods for which it can be exchanged, or the purchasing power its owner possesses. Thus, to say that England’s circulating money has been estimated at eighteen millions is merely to give the amount of coin that some writers have calculated—or rather assumed—to be circulating there. But to say that a man is worth fifty or a hundred pounds a year is generally to speak not only of the coin paid to him annually but of the value of the goods he can buy or consume each year. We generally mean to describe his actual or appropriate standard of living: the quantity and quality of life’s necessities and comforts he can properly afford.
If by a sum of money we mean both its pieces of metal and, less explicitly, the goods they can buy, the wealth or revenue it signifies equals only one of the two values ambiguously indicated by the same expression. It corresponds more properly to the latter than to the former—to the money’s worth rather than the money.
Thus, if someone receives a weekly pension of a guinea, he can use it during that week to purchase a certain amount of subsistence, comforts, and amusements. His real wealth, his real weekly revenue, rises or falls with that amount. His weekly revenue is certainly not both the guinea and the goods it can buy, but only one of these two equal values—more properly the goods’ value, the guinea’s worth rather than the guinea itself.
If he received his pension not in gold but in a weekly bill for a guinea, his revenue would surely consist less in the piece of paper than in what he could obtain for it. A guinea may likewise be considered a bill drawn on all the neighboring tradesmen for a certain amount of necessities and comforts. The recipient’s revenue consists not so much in the gold piece as in what it will obtain, what he can exchange it for. If it could be exchanged for nothing, it would be worth no more than a bill drawn on a bankrupt—no more than a useless piece of paper.
Likewise, although the weekly or yearly revenues of a country’s inhabitants may be, and often are, paid in money, their collective real wealth—their real weekly or yearly revenue—must always depend on how many consumable goods they can buy with it. Their total revenue clearly does not equal both the money and the consumable goods, but only one of these two values, and more properly the latter.
When we describe a person’s revenue by the metal pieces paid to him each year, we do so because their amount determines his purchasing power, or the value of the goods he can afford to consume annually. We still regard his revenue as consisting in the power to purchase or consume, not in the pieces that convey that power.
Book II, Chapter II, 2
18th-century English
But if this is sufficiently evident, even with regard to an individual, it is still more so with regard to a society. The amount of the metal pieces which are annually paid to an individual, is often precisely equal to his revenue, and is upon that account the shortest and best expression of its value. But the amount of the metal pieces which circulate in a society, can never be equal to the revenue of all its members. As the same guinea which pays the weekly pension of one man to-day, may pay that of another to-morrow, and that of a third the day thereafter, the amount of the metal pieces which annually circulate in any country, must always be of much less value than the whole money pensions annually paid with them. But the power of purchasing, or the goods which can successively be bought with the whole of those money pensions, as they are successively paid, must always be precisely of the same value with those pensions; as must likewise be the revenue of the different persons to whom they are paid. That revenue, therefore, cannot consist in those metal pieces, of which the amount is so much inferior to its value, but in the power of purchasing, in the goods which can successively be bought with them as they circulate from hand to hand.
Money, therefore, the great wheel of circulation, the great instrument of commerce, like all other instruments of trade, though it makes a part, and a very valuable part, of the capital, makes no part of the revenue of the society to which it belongs; and though the metal pieces of which it is composed, in the course of their annual circulation, distribute to every man the revenue which properly belongs to him, they make themselves no part of that revenue.
Thirdly, and lastly, the machines and instruments of trade, etc. which compose the fixed capital, bear this further resemblance to that part of the circulating capital which consists in money; that as every saving in the expense of erecting and supporting those machines, which does not diminish the introductive powers of labour, is an improvement of the neat revenue of the society; so every saving in the expense of collecting and supporting that part of the circulating capital which consists in money is an improvement of exactly the same kind.
It is sufficiently obvious, and it has partly, too, been explained already, in what manner every saving in the expense of supporting the fixed capital is an improvement of the neat revenue of the society. The whole capital of the undertaker of every work is necessarily divided between his fixed and his circulating capital. While his whole capital remains the same, the smaller the one part, the greater must necessarily be the other. It is the circulating capital which furnishes the materials and wages of labour, and puts industry into motion. Every saving, therefore, in the expense of maintaining the fixed capital, which does not diminish the productive powers of labour, must increase the fund which puts industry into motion, and consequently the annual produce of land and labour, the real revenue of every society.
The substitution of paper in the room of gold and silver money, replaces a very expensive instrument of commerce with one much less costly, and sometimes equally convenient. Circulation comes to be carried on by a new wheel, which it costs less both to erect and to maintain than the old one. But in what manner this operation is performed, and in what manner it tends to increase either the gross or the neat revenue of the society, is not altogether so obvious, and may therefore require some further explication.
There are several different sorts of paper money; but the circulating notes of banks and bankers are the species which is best known, and which seems best adapted for this purpose.
When the people of any particular country have such confidence in the fortune, probity and prudence of a particular banker, as to believe that he is always ready to pay upon demand such of his promissory notes as are likely to be at any time presented to him, those notes come to have the same currency as gold and silver money, from the confidence that such money can at any time be had for them.
A particular banker lends among his customers his own promissory notes, to the extent, we shall suppose, of a hundred thousand pounds. As those notes serve all the purposes of money, his debtors pay him the same interest as if he had lent them so much money. This interest is the source of his gain. Though some of those notes are continually coming back upon him for payment, part of them continue to circulate for months and years together. Though he has generally in circulation, therefore, notes to the extent of a hundred thousand pounds, twenty thousand pounds in gold and silver may, frequently, be a sufficient provision for answering occasional demands. By this operation, therefore, twenty thousand pounds in gold and silver perform all the functions which a hundred thousand could otherwise have performed. The same exchanges may be made, the same quantity of consumable goods may be circulated and distributed to their proper consumers, by means of his promissory notes, to the value of a hundred thousand pounds, as by an equal value of gold and silver money. Eighty thousand pounds of gold and silver, therefore, can in this manner be spared from the circulation of the country; and if different operations of the same kind should, at the same time, be carried on by many different banks and bankers, the whole circulation may thus be conducted with a fifth part only of the gold and silver which would otherwise have been requisite.
Let us suppose, for example, that the whole circulating money of some particular country amounted, at a particular time, to one million sterling, that sum being then sufficient for circulating the whole annual produce of their land and labour; let us suppose, too, that some time thereafter, different banks and bankers issued promissory notes payable to the bearer, to the extent of one million, reserving in their different coffers two hundred thousand pounds for answering occasional demands; there would remain, therefore, in circulation, eight hundred thousand pounds in gold and silver, and a million of bank notes, or eighteen hundred thousand pounds of paper and money together. But the annual produce of the land and labour of the country had before required only one million to circulate and distribute it to its proper consumers, and that annual produce cannot be immediately augmented by those operations of banking. One million, therefore, will be sufficient to circulate it after them. The goods to be bought and sold being precisely the same as before, the same quantity of money will be sufficient for buying and selling them. The channel of circulation, if I may be allowed such an expression, will remain precisely the same as before. One million we have supposed sufficient to fill that channel. Whatever, therefore, is poured into it beyond this sum, cannot run into it, but must overflow. One million eight hundred thousand pounds are poured into it. Eight hundred thousand pounds, therefore, must overflow, that sum being over and above what can be employed in the circulation of the country. But though this sum cannot be employed at home, it is too valuable to be allowed to lie idle. It will, therefore, be sent abroad, in order to seek that profitable employment which it cannot find at home. But the paper cannot go abroad; because at a distance from the banks which issue it, and from the country in which payment of it can be exacted by law, it will not be received in common payments. Gold and silver, therefore, to the amount of eight hundred thousand pounds, will be sent abroad, and the channel of home circulation will remain filled with a million of paper instead of a million of those metals which filled it before.
But though so great a quantity of gold and silver is thus sent abroad, we must not imagine that it is sent abroad for nothing, or that its proprietors make a present of it to foreign nations. They will exchange it for foreign goods of some kind or another, in order to supply the consumption either of some other foreign country, or of their own.
If they employ it in purchasing goods in one foreign country, in order to supply the consumption of another, or in what is called the carrying trade, whatever profit they make will be in addition to the neat revenue of their own country. It is like a new fund, created for carrying on a new trade; domestic business being now transacted by paper, and the gold and silver being converted into a fund for this new trade.
If they employ it in purchasing foreign goods for home consumption, they may either, first, purchase such goods as are likely to be consumed by idle people, who produce nothing, such as foreign wines, foreign silks, etc.; or, secondly, they may purchase an additional stock of materials, tools, and provisions, in order to maintain and employ an additional number of industrious people, who reproduce, with a profit, the value of their annual consumption.
So far as it is employed in the first way, it promotes prodigality, increases expense and consumption, without increasing production, or establishing any permanent fund for supporting that expense, and is in every respect hurtful to the society.
So far as it is employed in the second way, it promotes industry; and though it increases the consumption of the society, it provides a permanent fund for supporting that consumption; the people who consume reproducing, with a profit, the whole value of their annual consumption. The gross revenue of the society, the annual produce of their land and labour, is increased by the whole value which the labour of those workmen adds to the materials upon which they are employed, and their neat revenue by what remains of this value, after deducting what is necessary for supporting the tools and instruments of their trade.
That the greater part of the gold and silver which being forced abroad by those operations of banking, is employed in purchasing foreign goods for home consumption, is, and must be, employed in purchasing those of this second kind, seems not only probable, but almost unavoidable. Though some particular men may sometimes increase their expense very considerably, though their revenue does not increase at all, we maybe assured that no class or order of men ever does so; because, though the principles of common prudence do not always govern the conduct of every individual, they always influence that of the majority of every class or order. But the revenue of idle people, considered as a class or order, cannot, in the smallest degree, be increased by those operations of banking. Their expense in general, therefore, cannot be much increased by them, though that of a few individuals among them may, and in reality sometimes is. The demand of idle people, therefore, for foreign goods, being the same, or very nearly the same as before, a very small part of the money which, being forced abroad by those operations of banking, is employed in purchasing foreign goods for home consumption, is likely to be employed in purchasing those for their use. The greater part of it will naturally be destined for the employment of industry, and not for the maintenance of idleness.
When we compute the quantity of industry which the circulating capital of any society can employ, we must always have regard to those parts of it only which consist in provisions, materials, and finished work; the other, which consists in money, and which serves only to circulate those three, must always be deducted. In order to put industry into motion, three things are requisite; materials to work upon, tools to work with, and the wages or recompence for the sake of which the work is done. Money is neither a material to work upon, nor a tool to work with; and though the wages of the workman are commonly paid to him in money, his real revenue, like that of all other men, consists, not in the money, but in the money’s worth; not in the metal pieces, but in what can be got for them.
The quantity of industry which any capital can employ, must evidently be equal to the number of workmen whom it can supply with materials, tools, and a maintenance suitable to the nature of the work. Money may be requisite for purchasing the materials and tools of the work, as well as the maintenance of the workmen; but the quantity of industry which the whole capital can employ, is certainly not equal both to the money which purchases, and to the materials, tools, and maintenance, which are purchased with it, but only to one or other of those two values, and to the latter more properly than to the former.
When paper is substituted in the room of gold and silver money, the quantity of the materials, tools, and maintenance, which the whole circulating capital can supply, may be increased by the whole value of gold and silver which used to be employed in purchasing them. The whole value of the great wheel of circulation and distribution is added to the goods which are circulated and distributed by means of it. The operation, in some measure, resembles that of the undertaker of some great work, who, in consequence of some improvement in mechanics, takes down his old machinery, and adds the difference between its price and that of the new to his circulating capital, to the fund from which he furnishes materials and wages to his workmen.
What is the proportion which the circulating money of any country bears to the whole value of the annual produce circulated by means of it, it is perhaps impossible to determine. It has been computed by different authors at a fifth, at a tenth, at a twentieth, and at a thirtieth, part of that value. But how small soever the proportion which the circulating money may bear to the whole value of the annual produce, as but a part, and frequently but a small part, of that produce, is ever destined for the maintenance of industry, it must always bear a very considerable proportion to that part. When, therefore, by the substitution of paper, the gold and silver necessary for circulation is reduced to, perhaps, a fifth part of the former quantity, if the value of only the greater part of the other four-fifths be added to the funds which are destined for the maintenance of industry, it must make a very considerable addition to the quantity of that industry, and, consequently, to the value of the annual produce of land and labour.
English
If this is clear enough for an individual, it is clearer still for a society. The amount of coin paid to an individual each year is often precisely equal to his revenue and is therefore the shortest and best way of expressing its value. But the amount of coin circulating in a society can never equal the revenue of all its members. The same guinea that pays one man’s weekly pension today may pay another’s tomorrow and a third man’s the following day. Thus the value of coin circulating in a country over a year must always be far less than the sum of the monetary payments made annually with it. The purchasing power exercised by these successive payments—or the goods successively bought with them—must, however, equal their value exactly, as must the revenue of their recipients. That revenue cannot, then, consist in the metal pieces, whose total value falls so far short of it, but in purchasing power: in the goods those pieces can buy as they pass from hand to hand.
Money, then, is the great wheel of circulation and the great instrument of commerce. Like other instruments of trade, it forms a valuable part of capital but no part of the revenue of the society to which it belongs. The coins that compose it distribute to everyone the revenue properly belonging to them as they circulate through the year, yet themselves form no part of that revenue.
Third and finally, the machines and instruments of trade composing fixed capital resemble the money portion of circulating capital in one further respect. Any saving in the cost of constructing and maintaining machines that does not reduce the productive powers of labor improves society’s net revenue; so does any saving in the cost of acquiring and maintaining the money portion of circulating capital.
It is fairly plain, and has already been partly explained, how any saving in the maintenance of fixed capital improves society’s net revenue. The capital of every entrepreneur is necessarily divided between fixed and circulating capital. If the total remains unchanged, the smaller one part is, the larger the other must be. Circulating capital supplies the materials and wages of labor and sets industry in motion. Therefore, every saving in the cost of maintaining fixed capital that does not diminish the productive powers of labor must enlarge the fund that sets industry in motion and, with it, the annual produce of land and labor—society’s real revenue.
Replacing gold and silver money with paper substitutes a far cheaper instrument of commerce, sometimes just as convenient, for a very expensive one. Circulation proceeds by means of a new wheel, less costly to construct and maintain than the old. But just how this substitution works, and how it tends to increase society’s gross or net revenue, is less obvious and calls for further explanation.
Paper money takes several forms. The circulating notes of banks and bankers are the best known and seem best suited to this purpose.
When the people of a country trust a banker’s wealth, honesty, and prudence enough to believe that he will always pay on demand the promissory notes likely to be presented to him, those notes circulate like gold and silver coin, because people trust they can exchange them for coin at any time.
Suppose a banker lends his own promissory notes to his customers to the amount of a hundred thousand pounds. Because the notes serve every purpose of money, the borrowers pay him the same interest as if he had lent them that amount in coin. This interest provides his profit. Some notes continually return to him for payment, but others remain in circulation for months or years. Although he normally has a hundred thousand pounds in notes outstanding, twenty thousand pounds in gold and silver may often be enough to meet occasional demands. Thus twenty thousand pounds in coin performs every function that would otherwise require a hundred thousand. His notes worth a hundred thousand pounds permit the same exchanges and circulate and distribute the same quantity of consumable goods to their proper consumers as an equal value of gold and silver. Eighty thousand pounds in precious metals can therefore be released from the country’s circulation. If many banks and bankers conduct similar operations at once, the entire circulation may be carried on with only a fifth of the gold and silver otherwise required.
Suppose, for example, that at a certain time all the circulating money of a country amounts to one million sterling, enough to circulate the entire annual produce of its land and labor. Suppose that later several banks issue bearer notes totaling one million, while holding two hundred thousand pounds in their vaults to meet occasional demands. Eight hundred thousand pounds in gold and silver would then remain in circulation alongside a million in banknotes: eighteen hundred thousand pounds in paper and coin together. Yet before these banking operations the annual produce needed only one million to circulate and distribute it to its proper consumers, and the banks cannot immediately enlarge that produce. One million will therefore suffice afterward. Precisely the same goods are bought and sold, and the same amount of money will suffice to buy and sell them. The channel of circulation, if I may use the expression, remains precisely as it was. One million was enough to fill it; whatever is poured in above that sum cannot enter the channel and must overflow. Eighteen hundred thousand pounds have now been poured in, so eight hundred thousand pounds must overflow: that sum exceeds what the country can employ in circulation. Though it cannot be employed at home, it is too valuable to lie idle and will be sent abroad to seek a profitable use. Paper, however, cannot be sent abroad: far from its issuing banks and the country where its payment can be enforced by law, it will not be accepted in ordinary transactions. Thus eight hundred thousand pounds in gold and silver will be sent abroad, while the domestic channel remains filled by a million in paper instead of the million in metal that previously filled it.
We should not imagine that this great quantity of gold and silver goes abroad for nothing, or that its owners give it away to foreign nations. They exchange it for foreign goods, either to supply another foreign country’s consumption or to supply their own.
If they use it to buy goods in one foreign country for consumers in another—the carrying trade—any profits they earn will add to their own country’s net revenue. It is as though a new fund were created for a new trade: paper now conducts domestic business, while gold and silver become the fund that conducts the new trade.
If instead they use it to purchase foreign goods for consumption at home, they may buy either, first, goods likely to be consumed by idle people who produce nothing, such as foreign wines and silks; or, second, an additional stock of materials, tools, and provisions to maintain and employ additional industrious people, who reproduce the value of what they consume in a year, together with a profit.
To the extent that it is spent in the first way, it encourages extravagance and increases expense and consumption without increasing production or establishing any permanent fund to support that expense. In every respect it harms society.
To the extent that it is spent in the second way, it encourages industry. Though society’s consumption rises, a permanent fund is established to support it, because those who consume reproduce the whole value of their annual consumption, with a profit. Society’s gross revenue—the annual produce of its land and labor—rises by the entire value the workers’ labor adds to the materials they work on. Its net revenue rises by the portion of that value remaining after the cost of maintaining their tools and instruments has been deducted.
It seems not merely likely but almost inevitable that most of the gold and silver driven abroad by these banking operations, insofar as it buys foreign goods for domestic consumption, buys goods of the second kind. Some individuals may sometimes greatly increase their spending without any increase in revenue. But we may be sure no whole class of people does so: ordinary prudence may not always govern every individual, but it always influences the majority within any class. Considered as a class, idle people do not gain the slightest increase in revenue from these banking operations. Their spending as a group, therefore, cannot greatly increase, though that of a few individuals may and sometimes does. With their demand for foreign goods unchanged or nearly so, little of the money driven abroad by banking and used to buy foreign goods for domestic consumption is likely to purchase goods for their use. Most will naturally support industry rather than idleness.
In calculating the amount of industry a society’s circulating capital can employ, we must consider only the portions consisting of provisions, materials, and finished goods. The remaining portion, money, serves merely to circulate those three and must be subtracted. Three things are needed to set industry in motion: materials to work on, tools to work with, and the wages or reward for which the work is performed. Money is neither material nor a tool. And although workers are commonly paid in money, their real revenue, like everyone else’s, consists not in the money but in what it is worth—not in the pieces of metal but in what they will buy.
The amount of industry a capital can employ must plainly correspond to the number of workers it can provide with materials, tools, and support appropriate to their work. Money may be needed to purchase both the materials and tools and the workers’ support. But the industry that the total capital can employ cannot equal both the purchasing money and the materials, tools, and support purchased with it. It equals only one of these two values, more properly the latter.
When paper replaces gold and silver money, the materials, tools, and support that the whole circulating capital can supply may increase by the entire value of the gold and silver formerly used to purchase them. The value of the great wheel of circulation and distribution is added to the goods that wheel circulates and distributes. This resembles, in some measure, the action of an entrepreneur who improves his machinery, takes down the old equipment, and adds the difference between its price and the new equipment’s price to his circulating capital—the fund from which he provides his workers with materials and wages.
It may be impossible to determine the ratio of a country’s circulating money to the total value of the annual produce it circulates. Different authors have estimated the money at a fifth, a tenth, a twentieth, and a thirtieth of that value. Yet however small a share of the whole annual produce the circulating money represents, only part of that produce—and often a small part—is ever assigned to maintaining industry. The money must therefore always be a very considerable share of the part assigned to industry. Consequently, if substituting paper reduces the gold and silver needed for circulation to perhaps a fifth of its former amount, adding the value of even most of the remaining four-fifths to the funds that maintain industry must considerably increase that industry and, in turn, the value of the annual produce of land and labor.
Book II, Chapter II, 3
18th-century English
An operation of this kind has, within these five-and-twenty or thirty years, been performed in Scotland, by the erection of new banking companies in almost every considerable town, and even in some country villages. The effects of it have been precisely those above described. The business of the country is almost entirely carried on by means of the paper of those different banking companies, with which purchases and payments of all kinds are commonly made. Silver very seldom appears, except in the change of a twenty shilling bank note, and gold still seldomer. But though the conduct of all those different companies has not been unexceptionable, and has accordingly required an act of parliament to regulate it, the country, notwithstanding, has evidently derived great benefit from their trade. I have heard it asserted, that the trade of the city of Glasgow doubled in about fifteen years after the first erection of the banks there; and that the trade of Scotland has more than quadrupled since the first erection of the two public banks at Edinburgh; of which the one, called the Bank of Scotland, was established by act of parliament in 1695, and the other, called the Royal Bank, by royal charter in 1727. Whether the trade, either of Scotland in general, or of the city of Glasgow in particular, has really increased in so great a proportion, during so short a period, I do not pretend to know. If either of them has increased in this proportion, it seems to be an effect too great to be accounted for by the sole operation of this cause. That the trade and industry of Scotland, however, have increased very considerably during this period, and that the banks have contributed a good deal to this increase, cannot be doubted.
The value of the silver money which circulated in Scotland before the Union in 1707, and which, immediately after it, was brought into the Bank of Scotland, in order to be recoined, amounted to £411,117: 10: 9 sterling. No account has been got of the gold coin; but it appears from the ancient accounts of the mint of Scotland, that the value of the gold annually coined somewhat exceeded that of the silver. There were a good many people, too, upon this occasion, who, from a diffidence of repayment, did not bring their silver into the Bank of Scotland; and there was, besides, some English coin, which was not called in. The whole value of the gold and silver, therefore, which circulated in Scotland before the Union, cannot be estimated at less than a million sterling. It seems to have constituted almost the whole circulation of that country; for though the circulation of the Bank of Scotland, which had then no rival, was considerable, it seems to have made but a very small part of the whole. In the present times, the whole circulation of Scotland cannot be estimated at less than two millions, of which that part which consists in gold and silver, most probably, does not amount to half a million. But though the circulating gold and silver of Scotland have suffered so great a diminution during this period, its real riches and prosperity do not appear to have suffered any. Its agriculture, manufactures, and trade, on the contrary, the annual produce of its land and labour, have evidently been augmented.
It is chiefly by discounting bills of exchange, that is, by advancing money upon them before they are due, that the greater part of banks and bankers issue their promissory notes. They deduct always, upon whatever sum they advance, the legal interest till the bill shall become due. The payment of the bill, when it becomes due, replaces to the bank the value of what had been advanced, together with a clear profit of the interest. The banker, who advances to the merchant whose bill he discounts, not gold and silver, but his own promissory notes, has the advantage of being able to discount to a greater amount by the whole value of his promissory notes, which he finds, by experience, are commonly in circulation. He is thereby enabled to make his clear gain of interest on so much a larger sum.
The commerce of Scotland, which at present is not very great, was still more inconsiderable when the two first banking companies were established; and those companies would have had but little trade, had they confined their business to the discounting of bills of exchange. They invented, therefore, another method of issuing their promissory notes; by granting what they call cash accounts, that is, by giving credit, to the extent of a certain sum (two or three thousand pounds for example), to any individual who could procure two persons of undoubted credit and good landed estate to become surety for him, that whatever money should be advanced to him, within the sum for which the credit had been given, should be repaid upon demand, together with the legal interest. Credits of this kind are, I believe, commonly granted by banks and bankers in all different parts of the world. But the easy terms upon which the Scotch banking companies accept of repayment are, so far as I know, peculiar to them, and have perhaps been the principal cause, both of the great trade of those companies, and of the benefit which the country has received from it.
Whoever has a credit of this kind with one of those companies, and borrows a thousand pounds upon it, for example, may repay this sum piece-meal, by twenty and thirty pounds at a time, the company discounting a proportionable part of the interest of the great sum, from the day on which each of those small sums is paid in, till the whole be in this manner repaid. All merchants, therefore, and almost all men of business, find it convenient to keep such cash accounts with them, and are thereby interested to promote the trade of those companies, by readily receiving their notes in all payments, and by encouraging all those with whom they have any influence to do the same. The banks, when their customers apply to them for money, generally advance it to them in their own promissory notes. These the merchants pay away to the manufacturers for goods, the manufacturers to the farmers for materials and provisions, the farmers to their landlords for rent; the landlords repay them to the merchants for the conveniencies and luxuries with which they supply them, and the merchants again return them to the banks, in order to balance their cash accounts, or to replace what they may have borrowed of them; and thus almost the whole money business of the country is transacted by means of them. Hence the great trade of those companies.
By means of those cash accounts, every merchant can, without imprudence, carry on a greater trade than he otherwise could do. If there are two merchants, one in London and the other in Edinburgh, who employ equal stocks in the same branch of trade, the Edinburgh merchant can, without imprudence, carry on a greater trade, and give employment to a greater number of people, than the London merchant. The London merchant must always keep by him a considerable sum of money, either in his own coffers, or in those of his banker, who gives him no interest for it, in order to answer the demands continually coming upon him for payment of the goods which he purchases upon credit. Let the ordinary amount of this sum be supposed five hundred pounds; the value of the goods in his warehouse must always be less, by five hundred pounds, than it would have been, had he not been obliged to keep such a sum unemployed. Let us suppose that he generally disposes of his whole stock upon hand, or of goods to the value of his whole stock upon hand, once in the year. By being obliged to keep so great a sum unemployed, he must sell in a year five hundred pounds worth less goods than he might otherwise have done. His annual profits must be less by all that he could have made by the sale of five hundred pounds worth more goods; and the number of people employed in preparing his goods for the market must be less by all those that five hundred pounds more stock could have employed. The merchant in Edinburgh, on the other hand, keeps no money unemployed for answering such occasional demands. When they actually come upon him, he satisfies them from his cash account with the bank, and gradually replaces the sum borrowed with the money or paper which comes in from the occasional sales of his goods. With the same stock, therefore, he can, without imprudence, have at all times in his warehouse a larger quantity of goods than the London merchant; and can thereby both make a greater profit himself, and give constant employment to a greater number of industrious people who prepare those goods for the market. Hence the great benefit which the country has derived from this trade.
The facility of discounting bills of exchange, it may be thought, indeed, gives the English merchants a conveniency equivalent to the cash accounts of the Scotch merchants. But the Scotch merchants, it must be remembered, can discount their bills of exchange as easily as the English merchants; and have, besides, the additional conveniency of their cash accounts.
The whole paper money of every kind which can easily circulate in any country, never can exceed the value of the gold and silver, of which it supplies the place, or which (the commerce being supposed the same) would circulate there, if there was no paper money. If twenty shilling notes, for example, are the lowest paper money current in Scotland, the whole of that currency which can easily circulate there, cannot exceed the sum of gold and silver which would be necessary for transacting the annual exchanges of twenty shillings value and upwards usually transacted within that country. Should the circulating paper at any time exceed that sum, as the excess could neither be sent abroad nor be employed in the circulation of the country, it must immediately return upon the banks, to be exchanged for gold and silver. Many people would immediately perceive that they had more of this paper than was necessary for transacting their business at home; and as they could not send it abroad, they would immediately demand payment for it from the banks. When this superfluous paper was converted into gold and silver, they could easily find a use for it, by sending it abroad; but they could find none while it remained in the shape of paper. There would immediately, therefore, be a run upon the banks to the whole extent of this superfluous paper, and if they showed any difficulty or backwardness in payment, to a much greater extent; the alarm which this would occasion necessarily increasing the run.
Over and above the expenses which are common to every branch of trade, such as the expense of house-rent, the wages of servants, clerks, accountants, etc. the expenses peculiar to a bank consist chiefly in two articles: first, in the expense of keeping at all times in its coffers, for answering the occasional demands of the holders of its notes, a large sum of money, of which it loses the interest; and, secondly, in the expense of replenishing those coffers as fast as they are emptied by answering such occasional demands.
A banking company which issues more paper than can be employed in the circulation of the country, and of which the excess is continually returning upon them for payment, ought to increase the quantity of gold and silver which they keep at all times in their coffers, not only in proportion to this excessive increase of their circulation, but in a much greater proportion; their notes returning upon them much faster than in proportion to the excess of their quantity. Such a company, therefore, ought to increase the first article of their expense, not only in proportion to this forced increase of their business, but in a much greater proportion.
The coffers of such a company, too, though they ought to be filled much fuller, yet must empty themselves much faster than if their business was confined within more reasonable bounds, and must require not only a more violent, but a more constant and uninterrupted exertion of expense, in order to replenish them, The coin, too, which is thus continually drawn in such large quantities from their coffers, cannot be employed in the circulation of the country. It comes in place of a paper which is over and above what can be employed in that circulation, and is, therefore, over and above what can be employed in it too. But as that coin will not be allowed to lie idle, it must, in one shape or another, be sent abroad, in order to find that profitable employment which it cannot find at home; and this continual exportation of gold and silver, by enhancing the difficulty, must necessarily enhance still farther the expense of the bank, in finding new gold and silver in order to replenish those coffers, which empty themselves so very rapidly. Such a company, therefore, must in proportion to this forced increase of their business, increase the second article of their expense still more than the first.
Let us suppose that all the paper of a particular bank, which the circulation of the country can easily absorb and employ, amounts exactly to forty thousand pounds, and that, for answering occasional demands, this bank is obliged to keep at all times in its coffers ten thousand pounds in gold and silver. Should this bank attempt to circulate forty-four thousand pounds, the four thousand pounds which are over and above what the circulation can easily absorb and employ, will return upon it almost as fast as they are issued. For answering occasional demands, therefore, this bank ought to keep at all times in its coffers, not eleven thousand pounds only, but fourteen thousand pounds. It will thus gain nothing by the interest of the four thousand pounds excessive circulation; and it will lose the whole expense of continually collecting four thousand pounds in gold and silver, which will be continually going out of its coffers as fast as they are brought into them.
Had every particular banking company always understood and attended to its own particular interest, the circulation never could have been overstocked with paper money. But every particular banking company has not always understood or attended to its own particular interest, and the circulation has frequently been overstocked with paper money.
English
An operation of this kind has taken place in Scotland during the past twenty-five or thirty years, with new banking companies established in almost every sizeable town and even in some country villages. Its effects have been precisely those described above. Almost all the country’s business is conducted with the paper issued by these companies, commonly used for purchases and payments of every kind. Silver rarely appears except as change for a twenty shilling banknote, and gold still more rarely. Although the conduct of these companies has not always been beyond reproach, and an act of parliament has accordingly been needed to regulate it, the country has plainly benefited greatly from their trade. I have heard it said that trade in the city of Glasgow doubled in about fifteen years after banks were first established there, and that trade in Scotland has more than quadrupled since the first establishment of the two public banks in Edinburgh. One, the Bank of Scotland, was established by act of parliament in 1695; the other, the Royal Bank, by royal charter in 1727. I do not claim to know whether the trade of Scotland as a whole, or Glasgow in particular, has truly grown by so much in so short a time. If either has, the increase seems too great to be explained by this cause alone. But there can be no doubt that Scottish trade and industry have grown substantially over this period and that the banks have contributed considerably to that growth.
The value of the silver coin circulating in Scotland before the Union in 1707 and brought immediately afterward to the Bank of Scotland for recoining amounted to £411,117: 10: 9 sterling. There is no account of the gold coin; but the old records of the Scottish mint show that the value of gold coined annually somewhat exceeded that of silver. Moreover, many people, unsure of being repaid, did not bring their silver to the Bank of Scotland, and some English coin was also in circulation and was not called in. The total value of gold and silver circulating in Scotland before the Union therefore cannot be estimated at less than a million sterling. This seems to have made up almost all its circulating money: although the Bank of Scotland, then without a rival, issued a considerable amount, its notes appear to have formed only a small part of the whole. Today Scotland’s total circulating money cannot be estimated at less than two millions, of which the gold and silver most probably amount to less than half a million. Yet despite this great reduction in circulating gold and silver, Scotland’s real wealth and prosperity do not appear to have suffered. On the contrary, its agriculture, manufactures, and trade—the annual produce of its land and labor—have plainly increased.
Most banks and bankers issue their promissory notes chiefly by discounting bills of exchange: advancing money on the bills before they fall due. From the amount they advance they always deduct the legal interest for the period until payment is due. When the bill is paid at maturity, the bank recovers what it advanced and earns the interest as clear profit. A banker who advances his own notes rather than gold and silver to the merchant whose bill he discounts can discount bills to an additional amount equal to the value of his notes that experience shows are ordinarily in circulation. He can thus earn interest as clear profit on a correspondingly greater sum.
Scottish commerce, not very extensive today, was even smaller when the first two banking companies were founded. They would have done little business had they confined themselves to discounting bills of exchange. They therefore devised another way to issue their notes: granting what they call cash accounts. This means extending credit up to a specified sum—two or three thousand pounds, for example—to anyone able to find two people of unquestioned credit and good landed property to guarantee that any money advanced within that limit would be repaid on demand, with legal interest. Banks and bankers in many parts of the world, I believe, commonly extend this kind of credit. But, so far as I know, the Scottish banks are distinctive in the easy terms on which they accept repayment; these may be the chief cause both of their extensive business and of the benefit the country has gained from it.
A person with such a credit from one of these companies who borrows a thousand pounds, for example, may pay it back in installments of twenty or thirty pounds. From the day each installment is paid until the entire loan is repaid, the company deducts the corresponding share of interest on the original sum. Merchants and almost everyone in business therefore find it convenient to maintain cash accounts with these banks. They consequently have an interest in encouraging the banks’ business: they readily accept their notes in payment and urge everyone they can influence to do the same. When customers ask the banks for money, the banks generally advance it in their own notes. Merchants pay those notes to manufacturers for goods, manufacturers pay them to farmers for materials and provisions, and farmers pay them to their landlords as rent. Landlords return them to merchants in payment for the comforts and luxuries they supply, and merchants return them to the banks to settle their cash accounts or repay their borrowings. In this way almost all the country’s monetary business is conducted with these notes. This explains the companies’ extensive trade.
These cash accounts allow each merchant, without acting imprudently, to carry on more trade than he otherwise could. Consider two merchants, one in London and the other in Edinburgh, who employ equal amounts of stock in the same trade. The Edinburgh merchant can prudently carry on more trade and employ more people than the London merchant. To meet the constant demands for payment on goods bought on credit, the London merchant must always keep a considerable sum of money idle, either in his own vaults or with his banker, who pays him no interest on it. Suppose this sum is normally five hundred pounds. The goods in his warehouse must always be worth five hundred pounds less than they could be if he did not have to keep the money idle. Suppose he generally turns over his entire stock of goods, or goods equal in value to his entire stock, once a year. Having to keep this sum idle means he sells five hundred pounds worth less goods over the year than he otherwise might. His annual profits fall by all the profit he could have earned by selling an additional five hundred pounds worth of goods, and he employs fewer people to prepare goods for market—by however many an additional five hundred pounds of stock would have supported. The Edinburgh merchant, on the other hand, keeps no money idle to meet occasional demands. When these arise, he meets them through his cash account with the bank, gradually repaying what he borrowed out of the cash or paper he receives from occasional sales of his goods. With the same stock, therefore, he can prudently keep more goods in his warehouse at all times than the London merchant. He can earn greater profits himself while continually employing more industrious people to prepare those goods for market. This explains the great benefit the country derives from this banking business.
It may be thought that the ease of discounting bills of exchange gives English merchants a convenience equivalent to Scottish merchants’ cash accounts. But Scottish merchants, it should be remembered, can discount bills of exchange just as readily as English merchants, and have the additional convenience of their cash accounts.
All the paper money of every kind that can readily circulate in a country can never exceed the value of the gold and silver it replaces—or, assuming trade remains the same, the gold and silver that would circulate there without paper money. If twenty shilling notes, for example, are the smallest paper money circulating in Scotland, the total paper that can circulate readily cannot exceed the amount of gold and silver needed to carry out the country’s customary annual transactions worth twenty shillings or more. Should paper in circulation ever exceed this amount, the surplus could neither be sent abroad nor used in domestic circulation and must immediately return to the banks for exchange into gold and silver. People would soon notice that they held more paper than they needed for their domestic business. Unable to send it abroad, they would at once demand payment from the banks. Once exchanged into gold and silver, the surplus could readily be put to use abroad, whereas it had no use as paper. The banks would therefore immediately face demands for payment of the entire surplus, and demands on a much larger scale if they showed any reluctance or difficulty in paying: the alarm caused by such behavior would necessarily intensify the run.
Besides the costs common to every business, such as rent, the wages of servants, clerks, and accountants, and the like, a bank has two principal expenses of its own. First, it must keep a large sum of money in its vaults at all times to meet occasional demands from the holders of its notes, forgoing the interest that sum could earn. Second, it must replenish those vaults as quickly as payments empty them.
A bank issuing more paper than the country can employ in circulation, with the surplus continually returning for payment, should keep more gold and silver in its vaults—not merely in proportion to this excessive increase in notes issued, but in a much greater proportion, since its notes return much faster than their number increases. Its first expense must thus increase not merely in proportion to this forced expansion of its business, but much more rapidly.
Moreover, though the bank’s vaults ought to hold far more money, they must also empty much faster than they would if its business stayed within reasonable limits. Replenishing them requires not only greater expenditure but expenditure that is more constant and unremitting. The coin continually drawn from its vaults in such large amounts cannot circulate within the country. It has replaced paper that exceeds what domestic circulation can employ, so it too exceeds that amount. Since nobody will let that coin lie idle, it must be sent abroad in one form or another to find a profitable use unavailable at home. This constant export of gold and silver makes it harder, and therefore still more expensive, for the bank to obtain fresh gold and silver for its rapidly emptying vaults. In proportion to the forced expansion of its business, then, its second expense must rise even more than its first.
Suppose that a particular bank can readily keep exactly forty thousand pounds in paper circulating in the country and must hold ten thousand pounds in gold and silver in its vaults at all times to meet occasional demands. If it attempts to circulate forty-four thousand pounds, the extra four thousand pounds, more than circulation can readily employ, will return almost as fast as the bank issues it. To meet demands the bank should therefore hold not merely eleven thousand pounds but fourteen thousand pounds in its vaults at all times. It earns nothing in interest from the four thousand pounds of excess notes, while bearing the entire expense of constantly collecting four thousand pounds in gold and silver, which leaves its vaults as quickly as it enters them.
If every banking company had always understood and pursued its own particular interest, circulation could never have been flooded with paper money. But banking companies have not always understood or pursued their own interests, and circulation has often been flooded with paper money.
Book II, Chapter II, 4
18th-century English
By issuing too great a quantity of paper, of which the excess was continually returning, in order to be exchanged for gold and silver, the Bank of England was for many years together obliged to coin gold to the extent of between eight hundred thousand pounds and a million a-year; or, at an average, about eight hundred and fifty thousand pounds. For this great coinage, the bank (in consequence of the worn and degraded state into which the gold coin had fallen a few years ago) was frequently obliged to purchase gold bullion at the high price of four pounds an ounce, which it soon after issued in coin at £3:17:10 ½ an ounce, losing in this manner between two and a half and three per cent. upon the coinage of so very large a sum. Though the bank, therefore, paid no seignorage, though the government was properly at the expense of this coinage, this liberality of government did not prevent altogether the expense of the bank.
The Scotch banks, in consequence of an excess of the same kind, were all obliged to employ constantly agents at London to collect money for them, at an expense which was seldom below one and a half or two per cent. This money was sent down by the waggon, and insured by the carriers at an additional expense of three quarters per cent. or fifteen shillings on the hundred pounds. Those agents were not always able to replenish the coffers of their employers so fast as they were emptied. In this case, the resource of the banks was, to draw upon their correspondents in London bills of exchange, to the extent of the sum which they wanted. When those correspondents afterwards drew upon them for the payment of this sum, together with the interest and commission, some of those banks, from the distress into which their excessive circulation had thrown them, had sometimes no other means of satisfying this draught, but by drawing a second set of bills, either upon the same, or upon some other correspondents in London; and the same sum, or rather bills for the same sum, would in this manner make sometimes more than two or three journeys; the debtor bank paying always the interest and commission upon the whole accumulated sum. Even those Scotch banks which never distinguished themselves by their extreme imprudence, were sometimes obliged to employ this ruinous resource.
The gold coin which was paid out, either by the Bank of England or by the Scotch banks, in exchange for that part of their paper which was over and above what could be employed in the circulation of the country, being likewise over and above what could be employed in that circulation, was sometimes sent abroad in the shape of coin, sometimes melted down and sent abroad in the shape of bullion, and sometimes melted down and sold to the Bank of England at the high price of four pounds an ounce. It was the newest, the heaviest, and the best pieces only, which were carefully picked out of the whole coin, and either sent abroad or melted down. At home, and while they remained in the shape of coin, those heavy pieces were of no more value than the light; but they were of more value abroad, or when melted down into bullion at home. The Bank of England, notwithstanding their great annual coinage, found, to their astonishment, that there was every year the same scarcity of coin as there had been the year before; and that, notwithstanding the great quantity of good and new coin which was every year issued from the bank, the state of the coin, instead of growing better and better, became every year worse and worse. Every year they found themselves under the necessity of coining nearly the same quantity of gold as they had coined the year before; and from the continual rise in the price of gold bullion, in consequence of the continual wearing and clipping of the coin, the expense of this great annual coinage became, every year, greater and greater. The Bank of England, it is to be observed, by supplying its own coffers with coin, is indirectly obliged to supply the whole kingdom, into which coin is continually flowing from those coffers in a great variety of ways. Whatever coin, therefore, was wanted to support this excessive circulation both of Scotch and English paper money, whatever vacuities this excessive circulation occasioned in the necessary coin of the kingdom, the Bank of England was obliged to supply them. The Scotch banks, no doubt, paid all of them very dearly for their own imprudence and inattention: but the Bank of England paid very dearly, not only for its own imprudence, but for the much greater imprudence of almost all the Scotch banks.
The over-trading of some bold projectors in both parts of the united kingdom, was the original cause of this excessive circulation of paper money.
What a bank can with propriety advance to a merchant or undertaker of any kind, is not either the whole capital with which he trades, or even any considerable part of that capital; but that part of it only which he would otherwise be obliged to keep by him unemployed and in ready money, for answering occasional demands. If the paper money which the bank advances never exceeds this value, it can never exceed the value of the gold and silver which would necessarily circulate in the country if there was no paper money; it can never exceed the quantity which the circulation of the country can easily absorb and employ.
When a bank discounts to a merchant a real bill of exchange, drawn by a real creditor upon a real debtor, and which, as soon as it becomes due, is really paid by that debtor; it only advances to him a part of the value which he would otherwise be obliged to keep by him unemployed and in ready money, for answering occasional demands. The payment of the bill, when it becomes due, replaces to the bank the value of what it had advanced, together with the interest. The coffers of the bank, so far as its dealings are confined to such customers, resemble a water-pond, from which, though a stream is continually running out, yet another is continually running in, fully equal to that which runs out; so that, without any further care or attention, the pond keeps always equally, or very near equally full. Little or no expense can ever be necessary for replenishing the coffers of such a bank.
A merchant, without over-trading, may frequently have occasion for a sum of ready money, even when he has no bills to discount. When a bank, besides discounting his bills, advances him likewise, upon such occasions, such sums upon his cash account, and accepts of a piece-meal repayment, as the money comes in from the occasional sale of his goods, upon the easy terms of the banking companies of Scotland; it dispenses him entirely from the necessity of keeping any part of his stock by him unemployed and in ready money for answering occasional demands. When such demands actually come upon him, he can answer them sufficiently from his cash account. The bank, however, in dealing with such customers, ought to observe with great attention, whether, in the course of some short period (of four, five, six, or eight months, for example), the sum of the repayments which it commonly receives from them, is, or is not, fully equal to that of the advances which it commonly makes to them. If, within the course of such short periods, the sum of the repayments from certain customers is, upon most occasions, fully equal to that of the advances, it may safely continue to deal with such customers. Though the stream which is in this case continually running out from its coffers may be very large, that which is continually running into them must be at least equally large, so that, without any further care or attention, those coffers are likely to be always equally or very near equally full, and scarce ever to require any extraordinary expense to replenish them. If, on the contrary, the sum of the repayments from certain other customers, falls commonly very much short of the advances which it makes to them, it cannot with any safety continue to deal with such customers, at least if they continue to deal with it in this manner. The stream which is in this case continually running out from its coffers, is necessarily much larger than that which is continually running in; so that, unless they are replenished by some great and continual effort of expense, those coffers must soon be exhausted altogether.
The banking companies of Scotland, accordingly, were for a long time very careful to require frequent and regular repayments from all their customers, and did not care to deal with any person, whatever might be his fortune or credit, who did not make, what they called, frequent and regular operations with them. By this attention, besides saving almost entirely the extraordinary expense of replenishing their coffers, they gained two other very considerable advantages.
First, by this attention they were enabled to make some tolerable judgment concerning the thriving or declining circumstances of their debtors, without being obliged to look out for any other evidence besides what their own books afforded them; men being, for the most part, either regular or irregular in their repayments, according as their circumstances are either thriving or declining. A private man who lends out his money to perhaps half a dozen or a dozen of debtors, may, either by himself or his agents, observe and inquire both constantly and carefully into the conduct and situation of each of them. But a banking company, which lends money to perhaps five hundred different people, and of which the attention is continually occupied by objects of a very different kind, can have no regular information concerning the conduct and circumstances of the greater part of its debtors, beyond what its own books afford it. In requiring frequent and regular repayments from all their customers, the banking companies of Scotland had probably this advantage in view.
Secondly, by this attention they secured themselves from the possibility of issuing more paper money than what the circulation of the country could easily absorb and employ. When they observed, that within moderate periods of time, the repayments of a particular customer were, upon most occasions, fully equal to the advances which they had made to him, they might be assured that the paper money which they had advanced to him had not, at any time, exceeded the quantity of gold and silver which he would otherwise have been obliged to keep by him for answering occasional demands; and that, consequently, the paper money, which they had circulated by his means, had not at any time exceeded the quantity of gold and silver which would have circulated in the country, had there been no paper money. The frequency, regularity, and amount of his repayments, would sufficiently demonstrate that the amount of their advances had at no time exceeded that part of his capital which he would otherwise have been obliged to keep by him unemployed, and in ready money, for answering occasional demands; that is, for the purpose of keeping the rest of his capital in constant employment. It is this part of his capital only which, within moderate periods of time, is continually returning to every dealer in the shape of money, whether paper or coin, and continually going from him in the same shape. If the advances of the bank had commonly exceeded this part of his capital, the ordinary amount of his repayments could not, within moderate periods of time, have equalled the ordinary amount of its advances. The stream which, by means of his dealings, was continually running into the coffers of the bank, could not have been equal to the stream which, by means of the same dealings was continually running out. The advances of the bank paper, by exceeding the quantity of gold and silver which, had there been no such advances, he would have been obliged to keep by him for answering occasional demands, might soon come to exceed the whole quantity of gold and silver which ( the commerce being supposed the same ) would have circulated in the country, had there been no paper money; and, consequently, to exceed the quantity which the circulation of the country could easily absorb and employ; and the excess of this paper money would immediately have returned upon the bank, in order to be exchanged for gold and silver. This second advantage, though equally real, was not, perhaps, so well understood by all the different banking companies in Scotland as the first.
When, partly by the conveniency of discounting bills, and partly by that of cash accounts, the creditable traders of any country can be dispensed from the necessity of keeping any part of their stock by them unemployed, and in ready money, for answering occasional demands, they can reasonably expect no farther assistance from hanks and bankers, who, when they have gone thus far, cannot, consistently with their own interest and safety, go farther. A bank cannot, consistently with its own interest, advance to a trader the whole, or even the greater part of the circulating capital with which he trades; because, though that capital is continually returning to him in the shape of money, and going from him in the same shape, yet the whole of the returns is too distant from the whole of the outgoings, and the sum of his repayments could not equal the sum of his advances within such moderate periods of time as suit the conveniency of a bank. Still less could a bank afford to advance him any considerable part of his fixed capital; of the capital which the undertaker of an iron forge, for example, employs in erecting his forge and smelting-houses, his work-houses, and warehouses, the dwelling-houses of his workmen, etc.; of the capital which the undertaker of a mine employs in sinking his shafts, in erecting engines for drawing out the water, in making roads and waggon-ways, etc.; of the capital which the person who undertakes to improve land employs in clearing, draining, inclosing, manuring, and ploughing waste and uncultivated fields; in building farmhouses, with all their necessary appendages of stables, granaries, etc. The returns of the fixed capital are, in almost all cases, much slower than those of the circulating capital: and such expenses, even when laid out with the greatest prudence and judgment, very seldom return to the undertaker till after a period of many years, a period by far too distant to suit the conveniency of a bank. Traders and other undertakers may, no doubt with great propriety, carry on a very considerable part of their projects with borrowed money. In justice to their creditors, however, their own capital ought in this case to be sufficient to insure, if I may say so, the capital of those creditors; or to render it extremely improbable that those creditors should incur any loss, even though the success of the project should fall very much short of the expectation of the projectors. Even with this precaution, too, the money which is borrowed, and which it is meant should not be repaid till after a period of several years, ought not to be borrowed of a bank, but ought to be borrowed upon bond or mortgage, of such private people as propose to live upon the interest of their money, without taking the trouble themselves to employ the capital, and who are, upon that account, willing to lend that capital to such people of good credit as are likely to keep it for several years. A bank, indeed, which lends its money without the expense of stamped paper, or of attorneys’ fees for drawing bonds and mortgages, and which accepts of repayment upon the easy terms of the banking companies of Scotland, would, no doubt, be a very convenient creditor to such traders and undertakers. But such traders and undertakers would surely be most inconvenient debtors to such a bank.
English
By issuing too much paper money, whose excess continually came back to be exchanged for gold and silver, the Bank of England was compelled, year after year, to coin between eight hundred thousand pounds and a million annually—or about eight hundred and fifty thousand pounds on average. For this extensive coinage, the bank, because gold coins had become worn and debased a few years earlier, was frequently compelled to buy gold bullion at the high price of four pounds an ounce, then soon issue it as coin at £3:17:10 ½ an ounce. It thus lost between two and a half and three per cent. on the coinage of so large a sum. Although the bank paid no seignorage, and the government properly bore the cost of coinage, this generosity on the government's part did not spare the bank all expense.
The Scotch banks, faced with a similar excess, all had to keep agents in London constantly employed collecting money for them, at a cost seldom less than one and a half or two per cent. The money traveled north by wagon, insured by the carriers at the further expense of three quarters per cent., or fifteen shillings on the hundred pounds. These agents could not always refill their employers' coffers as fast as they emptied. In that case, the banks resorted to drawing bills of exchange on their London correspondents for the amount they needed. When those correspondents then drew on the banks for payment of that amount, with interest and commission, some banks, under the strain of their excessive circulation, sometimes had no way to honor the drafts except by drawing a second set of bills on the same correspondents or on others in London. The same sum—or, rather, bills for the same sum—could thus make more than two or three journeys, with the debtor bank always paying interest and commission on the entire accumulated amount. Even the Scotch banks that had never been conspicuously reckless sometimes had to resort to this ruinous expedient.
The gold coin paid out by the Bank of England or the Scotch banks for the portion of their paper beyond what the country's circulation could use was itself more than that circulation could use. Some of it went abroad as coin; some was melted and exported as bullion; and some was melted and sold to the Bank of England at the high price of four pounds an ounce. Only the newest, heaviest, finest pieces were carefully picked out of the coinage to be exported or melted. At home, while still coin, these heavy pieces were worth no more than light ones; abroad, or melted into bullion at home, they were worth more. To its astonishment, the Bank of England found that, despite its vast annual coinage, coins were as scarce each year as they had been the year before. Despite the great quantity of good new coin it issued annually, the condition of the coinage grew worse, not better, each year. It found itself obliged to coin nearly as much gold each year as in the preceding year; and as the price of gold bullion kept rising because coins were continually worn and clipped, the cost of this great annual coinage also kept rising. It should be observed that, in filling its own coffers with coin, the Bank of England must indirectly supply the entire kingdom, into which coin flows from those coffers by many routes. The bank therefore had to fill every gap in the kingdom's necessary coinage caused by the excessive circulation of Scotch and English paper money, and provide whatever coin was needed to support it. The Scotch banks all paid dearly, no doubt, for their own imprudence and neglect; but the Bank of England paid dearly not only for its own imprudence, but for the far greater imprudence of almost all the Scotch banks.
The original cause of this excessive circulation of paper money was the over-trading of certain daring projectors in both parts of the united kingdom.
What a bank can properly advance to a merchant or any other undertaker is neither his entire trading capital nor any substantial portion of it, but only the portion he would otherwise have to keep idle, in ready money, to meet occasional demands. If the paper money advanced by the bank never exceeds this amount, it can never exceed the value of the gold and silver that would have to circulate in the country without paper money; it can never exceed what the country's circulation can readily absorb and employ.
When a bank discounts for a merchant a genuine bill of exchange, drawn by a genuine creditor on a genuine debtor who actually pays it when due, the bank advances him only part of the value he would otherwise have to keep idle in ready money to meet occasional demands. Payment of the bill at maturity restores to the bank the value it advanced, with interest. So long as a bank deals only with such customers, its coffers resemble a pond: though one stream continually flows out, another, fully as large, continually flows in. Without further care or attention, the pond remains full, or very nearly so. Little or no expense can be required to replenish the coffers of such a bank.
Even without over-trading, a merchant may often need ready money when he has no bills to discount. If, besides discounting his bills, a bank also advances him money on such occasions through a cash account, accepting repayment in installments as proceeds from occasional sales of his goods arrive, on the easy terms offered by the banking companies of Scotland, it frees him altogether from the need to keep any of his stock idle in ready money for occasional demands. When those demands arise, his cash account will suffice to meet them. In dealing with such customers, however, the bank must watch closely whether, over a short period—four, five, six, or eight months, for example—the repayments it normally receives from them fully equal the advances it normally makes. If certain customers' repayments generally equal their advances over such periods, it may safely continue to deal with them. Though the stream continually flowing out of its coffers may be very large, the stream flowing in must be at least as large. Without further care, therefore, its coffers will probably remain full or nearly full, and scarcely ever require extraordinary expense to replenish. If, on the contrary, other customers' repayments generally fall far short of the advances made to them, the bank cannot safely continue to deal with them, at least while their dealings remain of this kind. The stream flowing out is then necessarily much greater than the one flowing in; unless replenished through a great and constant expenditure, the coffers must soon be emptied altogether.
Accordingly, the banking companies of Scotland were for a long time careful to require frequent, regular repayments from every customer, and were reluctant to deal with anyone, whatever his fortune or credit, who failed to conduct what they called frequent and regular operations with them. By this vigilance they not only saved almost the entire extraordinary cost of replenishing their coffers but gained two other considerable advantages.
First, it enabled them to form a reasonable judgment of whether their debtors' circumstances were improving or declining, without seeking evidence beyond their own books. For the most part, people repay regularly or irregularly according as their circumstances prosper or decline. A private individual lending to perhaps half a dozen or a dozen debtors can personally, or through agents, observe and investigate each debtor's conduct and situation steadily and carefully. But a banking company lending to perhaps five hundred different people, its attention constantly taken up with very different matters, can have no regular information about most debtors' conduct and circumstances beyond what its books disclose. The Scotch banking companies probably had this advantage in mind when they required frequent and regular repayments from all their customers.
Second, this practice protected them against issuing more paper money than the country's circulation could readily absorb and employ. If, over moderate periods, a customer's repayments generally equaled the advances they had made him, they could be sure their advances of paper money had never exceeded the gold and silver he would otherwise have needed to keep on hand for occasional demands. Thus the paper circulated through him had never exceeded the gold and silver that would have circulated in the country without paper money. The frequency, regularity, and size of his repayments sufficiently showed that their advances had never exceeded the portion of his capital he would otherwise have had to keep idle in ready money for occasional demands—that is, to keep the rest of his capital constantly employed. Only this portion of a dealer's capital continually comes back to him, over moderate periods, as money, whether paper or coin, and continually goes out again in the same form. If the bank's advances had normally exceeded that portion, his ordinary repayments could not have equaled its ordinary advances over such periods. The stream entering the bank's coffers through his dealings could not have equaled the stream leaving them through the same dealings. If the bank advanced paper beyond the gold and silver he would otherwise have had to hold for occasional demands, its advances might soon exceed all the gold and silver that would have circulated in the country without paper money, assuming the same volume of commerce. They would consequently exceed what the country's circulation could readily absorb and employ, and the excess paper would immediately return to the bank for exchange into gold and silver. This second advantage, though just as real, was perhaps less clearly understood by the different Scotch banking companies than the first.
Once the convenience of discounted bills and cash accounts has freed the reputable traders of a country from having to keep any stock idle in ready money for occasional demands, they can reasonably expect no further assistance from banks and bankers. Having gone this far, banks cannot go farther consistently with their own interests and safety. A bank cannot, consistently with its interests, advance a trader all or even most of the circulating capital he uses in trade. Though that capital continually returns to him as money and goes out again as money, the returns of the whole are too far removed from its outgoings for his repayments to equal the bank's advances within the moderate periods convenient to a bank. Still less can a bank advance any substantial part of his fixed capital: the capital an iron-forge undertaker, for example, spends building his forge and smelting-houses, workshops and warehouses, and workers' dwellings, etc.; the capital a mine undertaker spends sinking shafts, building engines to draw out water, and making roads and wagonways, etc.; or the capital spent by a land improver clearing, draining, enclosing, manuring, and plowing waste and uncultivated fields, and building farmhouses with the necessary stables, granaries, etc. Returns on fixed capital are almost always much slower than returns on circulating capital. Even when such expenditures are undertaken with the greatest prudence and judgment, they very seldom return to the undertaker for many years—far too long a period to suit a bank. Traders and other undertakers may, certainly and quite properly, finance a substantial part of their projects with borrowed money. In fairness to their creditors, however, their own capital should be sufficient, so to speak, to insure their creditors' capital: it should make a loss to creditors extremely unlikely, even if the project falls far short of its promoters' expectations. Even with this safeguard, money intended to remain outstanding for several years should be borrowed not from a bank but on bond or mortgage from private people who intend to live on the interest of their money, rather than trouble to employ the capital themselves, and who are therefore willing to lend it to creditworthy people likely to retain it for several years. A bank that lends without the cost of stamped paper or attorneys' fees for drawing up bonds and mortgages, and accepts repayment on the easy terms of the Scotch banking companies, would certainly be a very convenient creditor for such traders and undertakers. But such traders and undertakers would assuredly be very inconvenient debtors for such a bank.
Book II, Chapter II, 5
18th-century English
It is now more than five and twenty years since the paper money issued by the different banking companies of Scotland was fully equal, or rather was somewhat more than fully equal, to what the circulation of the country could easily absorb and employ. Those companies, therefore, had so long ago given all the assistance to the traders and other undertakers of Scotland which it is possible for banks and bankers, consistently with their own interest, to give. They had even done somewhat more. They had over-traded a little, and had brought upon themselves that loss, or at least that diminution of profit, which, in this particular business, never fails to attend the smallest degree of over-trading. Those traders and other undertakers, having got so much assistance from banks and bankers, wished to get still more. The banks, they seem to have thought, could extend their credits to whatever sum might be wanted, without incurring any other expense besides that of a few reams of paper. They complained of the contracted views and dastardly spirit of the directors of those banks, which did not, they said, extend their credits in proportion to the extension of the trade of the country; meaning, no doubt, by the extension of that trade, the extension of their own projects beyond what they could carry on either with their own capital, or with what they had credit to borrow of private people in the usual way of bond or mortgage. The banks, they seem to have thought, were in honour bound to supply the deficiency, and to provide them with all the capital which they wanted to trade with. The banks, however, were of a different opinion; and upon their refusing to extend their credits, some of those traders had recourse to an expedient which, for a time, served their purpose, though at a much greater expense, yet as effectually as the utmost extension of bank credits could have done. This expedient was no other than the well known shift of drawing and redrawing; the shift to which unfortunate traders have sometimes recourse, when they are upon the brink of bankruptcy. The practice of raising money in this manner had been long known in England; and, during the course of the late war, when the high profits of trade afforded a great temptation to over-trading, is said to have been carried on to a very great extent. From England it was brought into Scotland, where, in proportion to the very limited commerce, and to the very moderate capital of the country, it was soon carried on to a much greater extent than it ever had been in England.
The practice of drawing and redrawing is so well known to all men of business, that it may, perhaps, be thought unnecessary to give any account of it. But as this book may come into the hands of many people who are not men of business, and as the effects of this practice upon the banking trade are not, perhaps, generally understood, even by men of business themselves, I shall endeavour to explain it as distinctly as I can.
The customs of merchants, which were established when the barbarous laws of Europe did not enforce the performance of their contracts, and which, during the course of the two last centuries, have been adopted into the laws of all European nations, have given such extraordinary privileges to bills of exchange, that money is more readily advanced upon them than upon any other species of obligation; especially when they are made payable within so short a period as two or three months after their date. If, when the bill becomes due, the acceptor does not pay it as soon as it is presented, he becomes from that moment a bankrupt. The bill is protested, and returns upon the drawer, who, if he does not immediately pay it, becomes likewise a bankrupt. If, before it came to the person who presents it to the acceptor for payment, it had passed through the hands of several other persons, who had successively advanced to one another the contents of it, either in money or goods, and who, to express that each of them had in his turn received those contents, had all of them in their order indorsed, that is, written their names upon the back of the bill; each indorser becomes in his turn liable to the owner of the bill for those contents, and, if he fails to pay, he becomes too, from that moment, a bankrupt. Though the drawer, acceptor, and indorsers of the bill, should all of them be persons of doubtful credit; yet, still the shortness of the date gives some security to the owner of the bill. Though all of them may be very likely to become bankrupts, it is a chance if they all become so in so short a time. The house is crazy, says a weary traveller to himself, and will not stand very long; but it is a chance if it falls to-night, and I will venture, therefore, to sleep in it to-night.
The trader A in Edinburgh, we shall suppose, draws a bill upon B in London, payable two months after date. In reality B in London owes nothing to A in Edinburgh; but he agrees to accept of A’s bill, upon condition, that before the term of payment he shall redraw upon A in Edinburgh for the same sum, together with the interest and a commission, another bill, payable likewise two months after date. B accordingly, before the expiration of the first two months, redraws this bill upon A in Edinburgh; who, again before the expiration of the second two months, draws a second bill upon B in London, payable likewise two months after date; and before the expiration of the third two months, B in London redraws upon A in Edinburgh another bill payable also two months after date. This practice has sometimes gone on, not only for several months, but for several years together, the bill always returning upon A in Edinburgh with the accumulated interest and commission of all the former bills. The interest was five per cent. in the year, and the commission was never less than one half per cent. on each draught. This commission being repeated more than six times in the year, whatever money A might raise by this expedient might necessarily have cost him something more than eight per cent. in the year and sometimes a great deal more, when either the price of the commission happened to rise, or when he was obliged to pay compound interest upon the interest and commission of former bills. This practice was called raising money by circulation.
In a country where the ordinary profits of stock, in the greater part of mercantile projects, are supposed to run between six and ten per cent. it must have been a very fortunate speculation, of which the returns could not only repay the enormous expense at which the money was thus borrowed for carrying it on, but afford, besides, a good surplus profit to the projector. Many vast and extensive projects, however, were undertaken, and for several years carried on, without any other fund to support them besides what was raised at this enormous expense. The projectors, no doubt, had in their golden dreams the most distinct vision of this great profit. Upon their awakening, however, either at the end of their projects, or when they were no longer able to carry them on, they very seldom, I believe, had the good fortune to find it.
{The method described in the text was by no means either the most common or the most expensive one in which those adventurers sometimes raised money by circulation. It frequently happened, that A in Edinburgh would enable B in London to pay the first bill of exchange, by drawing, a few days before it became due, a second bill at three months date upon the same B in London. This bill, being payable to his own order, A sold in Edinburgh at par; and with its contents purchased bills upon London, payable at sight to the order of B, to whom he sent them by the post. Towards the end of the late war, the exchange between Edinburgh and London was frequently three per cent. against Edinburgh, and those bills at sight must frequently have cost A that premium. This transaction, therefore, being repeated at least four times in the year, and being loaded with a commission of at least one half per cent. upon each repetition, must at that period have cost A, at least, fourteen per cent. in the year. At other times A would enable to discharge the first bill of exchange, by drawing, a few days before it became due, a second bill at two months date, not upon B, but upon some third person, C, for example, in London. This other bill was made payable to the order of B, who, upon its being accepted by C, discounted it with some banker in London; and A enabled C to discharge it, by drawing, a few day’s before it became due, a third bill likewise at two months date, sometimes upon his first correspondent B, and sometimes upon some fourth or fifth person, D or E, for example. This third bill was made payable to the order of C, who, as soon as it was accepted, discounted it in the same manner with some banker in London. Such operations being repeated at least six times in the year, and being loaded with a commission of at least one half per cent. upon each repetition, together with the legal interest of five per cent. this method of raising money, in the same manner as that described in the text, must have cost A something more than eight per cent. By saving, however, the exchange between Edinburgh and London, it was less expensive than that mentioned in the foregoing part of this note; but then it required an established credit with more houses than one in London, an advantage which many of these adventurers could not always find it easy to procure.}
The bills which A in Edinburgh drew upon B in London, he regularly discounted two months before they were due, with some bank or banker in Edinburgh; and the bills which B in London redrew upon A in Edinburgh, he as regularly discounted, either with the Bank of England, or with some other banker in London. Whatever was advanced upon such circulating bills was in Edinburgh advanced in the paper of the Scotch banks; and in London, when they were discounted at the Bank of England in the paper of that bank. Though the bills upon which this paper had been advanced were all of them repaid in their turn as soon as they became due, yet the value which had been really advanced upon the first bill was never really returned to the banks which advanced it; because, before each bill became due, another bill was always drawn to somewhat a greater amount than the bill which was soon to be paid: and the discounting of this other bill was essentially necessary towards the payment of that which was soon to be due. This payment, therefore, was altogether fictitious. The stream which, by means of those circulating bills of exchange, had once been made to run out from the coffers of the banks, was never replaced by any stream which really ran into them.
The paper which was issued upon those circulating bills of exchange amounted, upon many occasions, to the whole fund destined for carrying on some vast and extensive project of agriculture, commerce, or manufactures; and not merely to that part of it which, had there been no paper money, the projector would have been obliged to keep by him unemployed, and in ready money, for answering occasional demands. The greater part of this paper was, consequently, over and above the value of the gold and silver which would have circulated in the country, had there been no paper money. It was over and above, therefore, what the circulation of the country could easily absorb and employ, and upon that account, immediately returned upon the banks, in order to be exchanged for gold and silver, which they were to find as they could. It was a capital which those projectors had very artfully contrived to draw from those banks, not only without their knowledge or deliberate consent, but for some time, perhaps, without their having the most distant suspicion that they had really advanced it.
When two people, who are continually drawing and redrawing upon one another, discount their bills always with the same banker, he must immediately discover what they are about, and see clearly that they are trading, not with any capital of their own, but with the capital which he advances to them. But this discovery is not altogether so easy when they discount their bills sometimes with one banker, and sometimes with another, and when the two same persons do not constantly draw and redraw upon one another, but occasionally run the round of a great circle of projectors, who find it for their interest to assist one another in this method of raising money and to render it, upon that account, as difficult as possible to distinguish between a real and a fictitious bill of exchange, between a bill drawn by a real creditor upon a real debtor, and a bill for which there was properly no real creditor but the bank which discounted it, nor any real debtor but the projector who made use of the money. When a banker had even made this discovery, he might sometimes make it too late, and might find that he had already discounted the bills of those projectors to so great an extent, that, by refusing to discount any more, he would necessarily make them all bankrupts; and thus by ruining them, might perhaps ruin himself. For his own interest and safety, therefore, he might find it necessary, in this very perilous situation, to go on for some time, endeavouring, however, to withdraw gradually, and, upon that account, making every day greater and greater difficulties about discounting, in order to force these projectors by degrees to have recourse, either to other bankers, or to other methods of raising money: so as that he himself might, as soon as possible, get out of the circle. The difficulties, accordingly, which the Bank of England, which the principal bankers in London, and which even the more prudent Scotch banks began, after a certain time, and when all of them had already gone too far, to make about discounting, not only alarmed, but enraged, in the highest degree, those projectors. Their own distress, of which this prudent and necessary reserve of the banks was, no doubt, the immediate occasion, they called the distress of the country; and this distress of the country, they said, was altogether owing to the ignorance, pusillanimity, and bad conduct of the banks, which did not give a sufficiently liberal aid to the spirited undertakings of those who exerted themselves in order to beautify, improve, and enrich the country. It was the duty of the banks, they seemed to think, to lend for as long a time, and to as great an extent, as they might wish to borrow. The banks, however, by refusing in this manner to give more credit to those to whom they had already given a great deal too much, took the only method by which it was now possible to save either their own credit, or the public credit of the country.
English
More than five and twenty years have now passed since the paper money issued by Scotland's various banking companies fully equaled—or rather, somewhat exceeded—what the country's circulation could readily absorb and employ. Those companies had therefore long since given Scotland's traders and other undertakers all the assistance that banks and bankers could give consistently with their own interests. Indeed, they had done somewhat more. They had over-traded a little, bringing upon themselves the loss, or at least the reduction of profit, that invariably attends even the slightest over-trading in this business. Having received so much help from banks and bankers, the traders and undertakers wanted still more. They seem to have believed that the banks could expand their credit to any sum required at no greater cost than a few reams of paper. They complained that the directors' narrow outlook and timid spirit kept them from expanding credit in proportion to the growth of the country's trade. By that growth they no doubt meant the expansion of their own projects beyond what they could undertake with their own capital or with funds they could borrow privately in the ordinary way, on bond or mortgage. The banks, they seem to have thought, were bound in honor to make up the difference and furnish all the capital they wanted for trade. The banks disagreed. When they refused to extend credit, some traders turned to an expedient that for a time served their purpose, at far greater expense but just as effectively as the fullest extension of bank credit could have done. That expedient was the familiar device of drawing and redrawing bills, to which distressed traders sometimes resort on the verge of bankruptcy. Raising money this way had long been known in England, and during the late war, when high trading profits strongly tempted people to over-trade, it is said to have been practiced on a very large scale. From England it came to Scotland, where, relative to the country's very limited commerce and modest capital, it soon spread much farther than it ever had in England.
Drawing and redrawing is so familiar to businesspeople that an account of it might seem unnecessary. But this book may reach many who are not businesspeople, and even businesspeople may not generally understand its effects on banking. I shall therefore explain it as clearly as I can.
Merchant customs arose when Europe's barbarous laws did not enforce contracts; during the last two centuries, the laws of every European nation have adopted them. These customs have given bills of exchange such exceptional privileges that money is advanced on them more readily than on any other kind of obligation, especially when they fall due within two or three months of their date. If the acceptor fails to pay a bill on presentation when it falls due, he becomes a bankrupt from that moment. The bill is protested and returned to the drawer, who likewise becomes a bankrupt if he does not pay at once. Before reaching the person who presents it to the acceptor, it may have passed through several other hands, each person advancing its value to the next in money or goods. To acknowledge receiving that value, each in turn indorses it—that is, writes his name on its back. Each indorser in turn is liable to the bill's owner for its value, and becomes a bankrupt from the moment he fails to pay it. Even if the drawer, acceptor, and indorsers all have doubtful credit, the bill's short term still offers its owner some security. They may all be quite likely to go bankrupt, but it is unlikely that all will do so in such a short time. “The house is unsound,” a weary traveler tells himself, “and will not stand for long. But it is unlikely to fall tonight; I shall risk sleeping in it tonight.”
Suppose trader A in Edinburgh draws a bill on B in London, payable two months after its date. In fact B in London owes A in Edinburgh nothing. But he agrees to accept A's bill on condition that, before payment falls due, he may draw another bill on A in Edinburgh for the same amount plus interest and a commission, likewise payable two months after its date. Before the first two months expire, B accordingly redraws on A in Edinburgh. Before the second two months expire, A again draws a bill on B in London, also payable two months after its date; and before the third two months expire, B in London redraws another bill on A in Edinburgh, again payable two months after its date. This has sometimes continued not merely for months but for years, each bill returning to A in Edinburgh with all the earlier bills' accumulated interest and commission. Interest ran at five per cent. a year, and commission was never less than one half per cent. on each draft. Since the commission recurred more than six times a year, any money A raised this way necessarily cost him something more than eight per cent. a year, and sometimes much more when the commission rose or when he had to pay compound interest on earlier bills' interest and commission. This practice was known as raising money by circulation.
In a country where the usual profits of stock on most commercial projects are reckoned at between six and ten per cent., a venture would have to be extraordinarily fortunate for its returns both to repay the enormous cost of borrowing this way and to leave its projector a handsome surplus profit. Yet many vast and extensive projects were begun and pursued for several years with no other support than funds raised at this enormous expense. The projectors no doubt saw this great profit clearly in their golden dreams. But when they awoke, whether at their projects' end or when they could pursue them no longer, I believe they seldom had the good fortune to find it.
[The method described in the text was neither the most common nor the most expensive way these adventurers sometimes raised money by circulation. Often A in Edinburgh would enable B in London to pay the first bill of exchange by drawing, a few days before it fell due, a second bill on the same B in London, payable after three months. A sold this bill, payable to his own order, in Edinburgh at par, and used its proceeds to buy bills on London payable at sight to B's order, sending them to him by post. Toward the end of the late war, the exchange between Edinburgh and London was frequently three per cent. against Edinburgh, and those bills at sight must often have cost A that premium. Repeated at least four times a year, therefore, and bearing a commission of at least one half per cent. each time, this transaction must then have cost A at least fourteen per cent. a year. At other times A would enable B to settle the first bill by drawing, a few days before it fell due, a second bill payable after two months, not on B but on a third person in London, C, for example. The new bill was payable to B's order; once C accepted it, B discounted it with a London banker. A then enabled C to settle it by drawing, a few days before its maturity, a third bill also payable after two months, sometimes on his original correspondent B and sometimes on a fourth or fifth person, D or E, for example. This third bill was payable to C's order, and once accepted C likewise discounted it with a London banker. Repeated at least six times a year, with a commission of at least one half per cent. each time in addition to the legal interest of five per cent., this way of raising money, like that described in the text, must have cost A something more than eight per cent. Since it avoided the exchange between Edinburgh and London, however, it cost less than the method described earlier in this note. But it required established credit with more than one London house, an advantage many of these adventurers could not always easily secure.]
A in Edinburgh regularly discounted the bills he drew on B in London, two months before they fell due, with a bank or banker in Edinburgh. B in London just as regularly discounted the bills he redrew on A in Edinburgh, either with the Bank of England or with some other London banker. Money advanced on these circulating bills was advanced in Edinburgh as paper issued by the Scotch banks, and in London, when discounted by the Bank of England, as that bank's paper. Although each bill on which paper had been advanced was paid when due, the value originally advanced on the first bill was never actually returned to the banks that advanced it. Before each bill fell due, another bill had already been drawn for a somewhat greater amount; discounting the new bill was essential to paying the one about to mature. The payment was thus entirely fictitious. The stream these circulating bills had set flowing from the banks' coffers was never replaced by any stream genuinely flowing back into them.
The paper issued against these circulating bills often amounted to the entire fund intended to support some vast project in agriculture, commerce, or manufactures, not merely the portion its projector would otherwise have had to keep idle in ready money to meet occasional demands if there had been no paper money. Most of this paper consequently exceeded the value of the gold and silver that would have circulated in the country without paper money. It exceeded what the country's circulation could readily absorb and employ, and so immediately returned to the banks for exchange into gold and silver, which the banks had to find however they could. The projectors had very cleverly contrived to draw this capital from the banks not merely without their knowledge or deliberate consent, but perhaps for a time without the slightest suspicion that they had advanced it at all.
If two people continually draw and redraw bills on each other and always discount them with the same banker, he must soon discover their practice and recognize that they are trading not with their own capital but with capital he supplies. It is much harder to discover when they discount bills sometimes with one banker and sometimes with another, and when the same two people do not constantly draw and redraw on each other but pass bills around a large circle of projectors. Such projectors have an interest in helping one another raise money this way, making it as hard as possible to distinguish a genuine bill from a fictitious one: a bill drawn by an actual creditor on an actual debtor from one whose only real creditor is the bank that discounts it and whose only real debtor is the projector using the money. A banker might make the discovery too late, after discounting so many of their bills that refusing to discount any more would necessarily bankrupt them all and, by ruining them, perhaps ruin himself. For his own safety and interests, he might be forced to continue for a time in this dangerous position, trying to withdraw gradually and raising ever greater obstacles to discounting bills each day. He would thereby compel the projectors, little by little, to seek other bankers or other ways of raising money, so that he himself could leave the circle as soon as possible. Accordingly, after some time, when they had already gone too far, the Bank of England, the leading London bankers, and even the more prudent Scotch banks began to make discounting difficult. This not only alarmed but infuriated the projectors. They called their own distress—immediately caused, no doubt, by this prudent and necessary restraint—the distress of the country. That national distress, they claimed, was entirely due to the banks' ignorance, timidity, and misconduct in failing to aid generously enough the bold enterprises of men striving to beautify, improve, and enrich the country. They apparently thought it the banks' duty to lend for as long, and as much, as they wished to borrow. But in denying further credit to people to whom they had already given far too much, the banks took the only course that could now save either their own credit or the country's public credit.
Book II, Chapter II, 6
18th-century English
In the midst of this clamour and distress, a new bank was established in Scotland, for the express purpose of relieving the distress of the country. The design was generous; but the execution was imprudent, and the nature and causes of the distress which it meant to relieve, were not, perhaps, well understood. This bank was more liberal than any other had ever been, both in granting cash-accounts, and in discounting bills of exchange. With regard to the latter, it seems to have made scarce any distinction between real and circulating bills, but to have discounted all equally. It was the avowed principle of this bank to advance upon any reasonable security, the whole capital which was to be employed in those improvements of which the returns are the most slow and distant, such as the improvements of land. To promote such improvements was even said to be the chief of the public-spirited purposes for which it was instituted. By its liberality in granting cash-accounts, and in discounting bills of exchange, it, no doubt, issued great quantities of its bank notes. But those bank notes being, the greater part of them, over and above what the circulation of the country could easily absorb and employ, returned upon it, in order to be exchanged for gold and silver, as fast as they were issued. Its coffers were never well filled. The capital which had been subscribed to this bank, at two different subscriptions, amounted to one hundred and sixty thousand pounds, of which eighty per cent. only was paid up. This sum ought to have been paid in at several different instalments. A great part of the proprietors, when they paid in their first instalment, opened a cash-account with the bank; and the directors, thinking themselves obliged to treat their own proprietors with the same liberality with which they treated all other men, allowed many of them to borrow upon this cash-account what they paid in upon all their subsequent instalments. Such payments, therefore, only put into one coffer what had the moment before been taken out of another. But had the coffers of this bank been filled ever so well, its excessive circulation must have emptied them faster than they could have been replenished by any other expedient but the ruinous one of drawing upon London; and when the bill became due, paying it, together with interest and commission, by another draught upon the same place. Its coffers having been filled so very ill, it is said to have been driven to this resource within a very few months after it began to do business. The estates of the proprietors of this bank were worth several millions, and, by their subscription to the original bond or contract of the bank, were really pledged for answering all its engagements. By means of the great credit which so great a pledge necessarily gave it, it was, notwithstanding its too liberal conduct, enabled to carry on business for more than two years. When it was obliged to stop, it had in the circulation about two hundred thousand pounds in bank notes. In order to support the circulation of those notes, which were continually returning upon it as fast as they were issued, it had been constantly in the practice of drawing bills of exchange upon London, of which the number and value were continually increasing, and, when it stopt, amounted to upwards of six hundred thousand pounds. This bank, therefore, had, in little more than the course of two years, advanced to different people upwards of eight hundred thousand pounds at five per cent. Upon the two hundred thousand pounds which it circulated in bank notes, this five per cent. might perhaps be considered as a clear gain, without any other deduction besides the expense of management. But upon upwards of six hundred thousand pounds, for which it was continually drawing bills of exchange upon London, it was paying, in the way of interest and commission, upwards of eight per cent. and was consequently losing more than three per cent. upon more than three fourths of all its dealings.
The operations of this bank seem to have produced effects quite opposite to those which were intended by the particular persons who planned and directed it. They seem to have intended to support the spirited undertakings, for as such they considered them, which were at that time carrying on in different parts of the country; and, at the same time, by drawing the whole banking business to themselves, to supplant all the other Scotch banks, particularly those established at Edinburgh, whose backwardness in discounting bills of exchange had given some offence. This bank, no doubt, gave some temporary relief to those projectors, and enabled them to carry on their projects for about two years longer than they could otherwise have done. But it thereby only enabled them to get so much deeper into debt; so that, when ruin came, it fell so much the heavier both upon them and upon their creditors. The operations of this bank, therefore, instead of relieving, in reality aggravated in the long-run the distress which those projectors had brought both upon themselves and upon their country. It would have been much better for themselves, their creditors, and their country, had the greater part of them been obliged to stop two years sooner than they actually did. The temporary relief, however, which this bank afforded to those projectors, proved a real and permanent relief to the other Scotch banks. All the dealers in circulating bills of exchange, which those other banks had become so backward in discounting, had recourse to this new bank, where they were received with open arms. Those other banks, therefore, were enabled to get very easily out of that fatal circle, from which they could not otherwise have disengaged themselves without incurring a considerable loss, and perhaps, too, even some degree of discredit.
In the long-run, therefore, the operations of this bank increased the real distress of the country, which it meant to relieve; and effectually relieved, from a very great distress, those rivals whom it meant to supplant.
At the first setting out of this bank, it was the opinion of some people, that how fast soever its coffers might be emptied, it might easily replenish them, by raising money upon the securities of those to whom it had advanced its paper. Experience, I believe, soon convinced them that this method of raising money was by much too slow to answer their purpose; and that coffers which originally were so ill filled, and which emptied themselves so very fast, could be replenished by no other expedient but the ruinous one of drawing bills upon London, and when they became due, paying them by other draughts on the same place, with accumulated interest and commission. But though they had been able by this method to raise money as fast as they wanted it, yet, instead of making a profit, they must have suffered a loss of every such operation; so that in the long-run they must have ruined themselves as a mercantile company, though perhaps not so soon as by the more expensive practice of drawing and redrawing. They could still have made nothing by the interest of the paper, which, being over and above what the circulation of the country could absorb and employ, returned upon them in order to be exchanged for gold and silver, as fast as they issued it; and for the payment of which they were themselves continually obliged to borrow money. On the contrary, the whole expense of this borrowing, of employing agents to look out for people who had money to lend, of negotiating with those people, and of drawing the proper bond or assignment, must have fallen upon them, and have been so much clear loss upon the balance of their accounts. The project of replenishing their coffers in this manner may be compared to that of a man who had a water-pond from which a stream was continually running out, and into which no stream was continually running, but who proposed to keep it always equally full, by employing a number of people to go continually with buckets to a well at some miles distance, in order to bring water to replenish it.
But though this operation had proved not only practicable, but profitable to the bank, as a mercantile company; yet the country could have derived no benefit front it, but, on the contrary, must have suffered a very considerable loss by it. This operation could not augment, in the smallest degree, the quantity of money to be lent. It could only have erected this bank into a sort of general loan office for the whole country. Those who wanted to borrow must have applied to this bank, instead of applying to the private persons who had lent it their money. But a bank which lends money, perhaps to five hundred different people, the greater part of whom its directors can know very little about, is not likely to be more judicious in the choice of its debtors than a private person who lends out his money among a few people whom he knows, and in whose sober and frugal conduct he thinks he has good reason to confide. The debtors of such a bank as that whose conduct I have been giving some account of were likely, the greater part of them, to be chimerical projectors, the drawers and redrawers of circulating bills of exchange, who would employ the money in extravagant undertakings, which, with all the assistance that could be given them, they would probably never be able to complete, and which, if they should be completed, would never repay the expense which they had really cost, would never afford a fund capable of maintaining a quantity of labour equal to that which had been employed about them. The sober and frugal debtors of private persons, on the contrary, would be more likely to employ the money borrowed in sober undertakings which were proportioned to their capitals, and which, though they might have less of the grand and the marvellous, would have more of the solid and the profitable; which would repay with a large profit whatever had been laid out upon them, and which would thus afford a fund capable of maintaining a much greater quantity of labour than that which had been employed about them. The success of this operation, therefore, without increasing in the smallest degree the capital of the country, would only have transferred a great part of it from prudent and profitable to imprudent and unprofitable undertakings.
That the industry of Scotland languished for want of money to employ it, was the opinion of the famous Mr Law. By establishing a bank of a particular kind, which he seems to have imagined might issue paper to the amount of the whole value of all the lands in the country, he proposed to remedy this want of money. The parliament of Scotland, when he first proposed his project, did not think proper to adopt it. It was afterwards adopted, with some variations, by the Duke of Orleans, at that time regent of France. The idea of the possibility of multiplying paper money to almost any extent was the real foundation of what is called the Mississippi scheme, the most extravagant project, both of banking and stock-jobbing, that perhaps the world ever saw. The different operations of this scheme are explained so fully, so clearly, and with so much order and distinctness, by Mr Du Verney, in his Examination of the Political Reflections upon commerce and finances of Mr Du Tot, that I shall not give any account of them. The principles upon which it was founded are explained by Mr Law himself, in a discourse concerning money and trade, which he published in Scotland when he first proposed his project. The splendid but visionary ideas which are set forth in that and some other works upon the same principles, still continue to make an impression upon many people, and have, perhaps, in part, contributed to that excess of banking, which has of late been complained of, both in Scotland and in other places.
The Bank of England is the greatest bank of circulation in Europe. It was incorporated, in pursuance of an act of parliament, by a charter under the great seal, dated the 27th of July 1694. It at that time advanced to government the sum of £1,200,000 for an annuity of £100,000, or for £ 96,000 a-year, interest at the rate of eight per cent. and £4,000 a-year for the expense of management. The credit of the new government, established by the Revolution, we may believe, must have been very low, when it was obliged to borrow at so high an interest.
In 1697, the bank was allowed to enlarge its capital stock, by an ingraftment of £1,001,171:10s. Its whole capital stock, therefore, amounted at this time to £2,201,171: 10s. This ingraftment is said to have been for the support of public credit. In 1696, tallies had been at forty, and fifty, and sixty, per cent. discount, and bank notes at twenty per cent. {James Postlethwaite’s History of the Public Revenue, p.301.} During the great re-coinage of the silver, which was going on at this time, the bank had thought proper to discontinue the payment of its notes, which necessarily occasioned their discredit.
In pursuance of the 7th Anne, c. 7, the bank advanced and paid into the exchequer the sum of £400,000; making in all the sum of £1,600,000, which it had advanced upon its original annuity of £96,000 interest, and £4,000 for expense of management. In 1708, therefore, the credit of government was as good as that of private persons, since it could borrow at six per cent. interest, the common legal and market rate of those times. In pursuance of the same act, the bank cancelled exchequer bills to the amount of £ 1,775,027: 17s: 10½d. at six per cent. interest, and was at the same time allowed to take in subscriptions for doubling its capital. In 1703, therefore, the capital of the bank amounted to £4,402,343; and it had advanced to government the sum of £3,375,027:17:10½d.
By a call of fifteen per cent. in 1709, there was paid in, and made stock, £ 656,204:1:9d.; and by another of ten per cent. in 1710, £501,448:12:11d. In consequence of those two calls, therefore, the bank capital amounted to £ 5,559,995:14:8d.
English
Amid this outcry and distress, a new bank was established in Scotland for the express purpose of relieving the country's distress. The intention was generous, but its execution imprudent; perhaps the nature and causes of the distress it meant to relieve were poorly understood. It was more liberal than any earlier bank both in granting cash accounts and in discounting bills of exchange. In discounting bills, it seems scarcely to have distinguished genuine bills from circulating ones, but discounted them all alike. Its declared principle was to advance, on any reasonable security, all the capital intended for improvements whose returns were slowest and most distant, such as improvements of land. Encouraging such improvements was even said to be the foremost public-spirited purpose for which it was founded. By freely granting cash accounts and discounting bills, it undoubtedly issued great quantities of bank notes. But most of those notes exceeded what the country's circulation could readily absorb and employ, and came back for exchange into gold and silver as quickly as they were issued. Its coffers were never well filled. The capital subscribed to the bank in two separate subscriptions amounted to one hundred and sixty thousand pounds, of which only eighty per cent. was paid up. Payment was to be made in several installments. Many proprietors, when paying their first installment, opened cash accounts with the bank; the directors, believing they must treat their own proprietors as liberally as everyone else, let many borrow on these accounts what they paid in for all their later installments. These payments thus merely put into one coffer what had just been taken from another. But however full the bank's coffers might have been, its excessive circulation would have emptied them faster than any method could replenish them except the ruinous one of drawing bills on London and, when they matured, paying them, with interest and commission, by drawing another bill on the same place. With its coffers so poorly filled, it is said to have resorted to this measure within a very few months of opening for business. The proprietors' estates were worth several millions and, under their subscription to the bank's original bond or contract, were truly pledged as security for all its obligations. The great credit this substantial pledge necessarily gave the bank enabled it, despite its excessive liberality, to operate for more than two years. When forced to stop, it had about two hundred thousand pounds in bank notes circulating. To sustain the circulation of notes that returned as fast as they were issued, it had continually drawn bills of exchange on London, growing steadily in number and value until, when it stopped, they amounted to upwards of six hundred thousand pounds. In a little more than two years, then, the bank had advanced upwards of eight hundred thousand pounds to various people at five per cent. On the two hundred thousand pounds circulating as bank notes, the five per cent. could perhaps count as clear gain, apart from management costs. But on the upwards of six hundred thousand pounds for which it was continually drawing bills on London, it paid upwards of eight per cent. in interest and commission. It therefore lost more than three per cent. on more than three fourths of its entire business.
The bank's operations seem to have produced effects precisely opposite to those its planners and directors intended. They apparently hoped to sustain what they regarded as bold enterprises then underway across the country, while taking over the whole banking business and displacing the other Scotch banks, especially those in Edinburgh, whose reluctance to discount bills had caused offense. The bank certainly gave the projectors temporary relief, allowing them to continue their projects about two years longer than they otherwise could. But it merely allowed them to sink that much deeper into debt, making their eventual ruin that much heavier for them and their creditors. Far from alleviating the distress the projectors had brought on themselves and their country, the bank's operations actually made it worse in the long run. Most would have fared much better, as would their creditors and their country, if forced to stop two years earlier than they did. Yet the temporary relief the bank gave these projectors provided real and lasting relief to the other Scotch banks. Everyone dealing in circulating bills of exchange that those banks had become reluctant to discount turned to the new bank, which welcomed them with open arms. The other banks could therefore easily escape a fatal circle from which they otherwise could not have withdrawn without considerable loss, and perhaps even some damage to their credit.
In the long run, then, this bank's operations increased the country's real distress, which it intended to relieve, and effectively delivered its rivals, whom it meant to displace, from very great distress.
When the bank first began, some believed that, however quickly its coffers emptied, it could easily refill them by raising money on the securities of those to whom it had advanced paper. Experience soon convinced them, I believe, that this means of raising money was far too slow for the purpose. Coffers so ill filled at the outset and emptied so quickly could be replenished only through the ruinous expedient of drawing bills on London, and paying each on maturity by another draft on London with accumulated interest and commission. Even if they could have raised money on securities as quickly as they needed, however, each transaction would have brought them a loss rather than a profit. In the long run they would have ruined themselves as a commercial company, though perhaps not as soon as by the more costly practice of drawing and redrawing. They could still have earned nothing from interest on the paper, which exceeded what the country's circulation could absorb and employ and returned for exchange into gold and silver as fast as they issued it. To make those payments, they themselves had continually to borrow money. Meanwhile, the full expense of borrowing—employing agents to find lenders, negotiating with them, and drawing up the necessary bond or assignment—would have fallen on the bank as an outright loss in its accounts. A plan to replenish its coffers this way resembles that of a man whose pond has a stream continually running out but none continually running in, and who proposes to keep it equally full by sending a number of people back and forth with buckets to a well miles away.
Even if this operation had proved not only practicable but profitable for the bank as a commercial company, the country would have gained nothing from it and, on the contrary, would have suffered considerable loss. It could not have increased the amount of money available to lend in the slightest; it could only have made the bank a kind of general loan office for the whole country. Borrowers would have approached the bank instead of the private individuals who lent their money to it. But a bank lending to perhaps five hundred people, most of whom its directors can know very little about, is unlikely to choose its debtors more wisely than a private individual lending to a few people he knows and whose sober and frugal conduct he has reason to trust. Most debtors of a bank such as the one I have described would likely be fanciful projectors, drawers and redrawers of circulating bills. They would spend the money on extravagant enterprises they probably could never complete, despite all assistance, and which, even if completed, would never repay their actual cost or provide a fund capable of supporting as much labor as went into them. The sober and frugal debtors of private individuals, by contrast, would be likelier to employ borrowed money in sensible enterprises suited to their capitals. Such ventures might have less grandeur and wonder, but more substance and profit: they would repay their costs with ample profit and thus provide a fund capable of supporting much more labor than was spent on them. The success of this operation, then, would not increase the country's capital in the slightest. It would only shift a large part of it from prudent, profitable enterprises to imprudent, unprofitable ones.
The famous Mr Law believed that Scotland's industry languished for lack of money to employ it. He proposed to remedy the shortage by establishing a special kind of bank, which he apparently imagined could issue paper to the full value of all the land in the country. Scotland's parliament did not see fit to adopt the project when he first proposed it. With some changes, it was later adopted by the Duke of Orleans, then regent of France. The belief that paper money could be multiplied almost without limit was the true foundation of the so-called Mississippi scheme, perhaps the most extravagant project in banking and stock-jobbing the world has ever seen. Mr Du Verney explains its various operations so fully, clearly, and methodically in his Examination of the Political Reflections upon commerce and finances of Mr Du Tot that I shall give no account of them. Mr Law himself explains its principles in a discourse on money and trade published in Scotland when he first put forward his project. The splendid yet visionary notions presented there and in some other works founded on the same principles still impress many people, and have perhaps contributed in part to the excessive banking lately complained of in Scotland and elsewhere.
The Bank of England is Europe's greatest bank of circulation. Pursuant to an act of parliament, it was incorporated by a charter under the great seal dated the 27th of July 1694. At that time it advanced the government £1,200,000 in return for an annuity of £100,000: £ 96,000 a-year in interest at eight per cent., and £4,000 a-year for management costs. The credit of the new government established by the Revolution must, we may suppose, have been very low when it had to borrow at such a high rate of interest.
In 1697, the bank was permitted to increase its capital stock by an ingraftment of £1,001,171:10s. Its total capital stock thus stood at £2,201,171: 10s. This ingraftment is said to have supported public credit. In 1696, tallies had traded at discounts of forty, fifty, and sixty per cent., and bank notes at twenty per cent. [James Postlethwaite’s History of the Public Revenue, p.301.] During the great recoinage of silver then underway, the bank had seen fit to suspend payment on its notes, inevitably damaging their credit.
Pursuant to the 7th Anne, c. 7, the bank advanced and paid into the exchequer £400,000, bringing its total advance against its original annuity of £96,000 in interest and £4,000 for management costs to £1,600,000. By 1708, therefore, government credit was as good as private credit, since it could borrow at six per cent. interest, the ordinary legal and market rate of the time. Under the same act, the bank canceled exchequer bills amounting to £ 1,775,027: 17s: 10½d. at six per cent. interest, and was at the same time allowed to accept subscriptions to double its capital. In 1703, therefore, the bank's capital amounted to £4,402,343, and it had advanced £3,375,027:17:10½d. to the government.
A call of fifteen per cent. in 1709 brought in £ 656,204:1:9d., which was made stock; another call of ten per cent. in 1710 brought in £501,448:12:11d. After these two calls, therefore, the bank's capital stood at £ 5,559,995:14:8d.
Book II, Chapter II, 7
18th-century English
In pursuance of the 3rd George I. c.8, the bank delivered up two millions of exchequer Bills to be cancelled. It had at this time, therefore, advanced to government £5,375,027:17 10d. In pursuance of the 8th George I. c.21, the bank purchased of the South-sea company, stock to the amount of £4,000,000: and in 1722, in consequence of the subscriptions which it had taken in for enabling it to make this purchase, its capital stock was increased by £ 3,400,000. At this time, therefore, the bank had advanced to the public £ 9,375,027 17s. 10½d.; and its capital stock amounted only to £ 8,959,995:14:8d. It was upon this occasion that the sum which the bank had advanced to the public, and for which it received interest, began first to exceed its capital stock, or the sum for which it paid a dividend to the proprietors of bank stock; or, in other words, that the bank began to have an undivided capital, over and above its divided one. It has continued to have an undivided capital of the same kind ever since. In 1746, the bank had, upon different occasions, advanced to the public £11,686,800, and its divided capital had been raised by different calls and subscriptions to £ 10,780,000. The state of those two sums has continued to be the same ever since. In pursuance of the 4th of George III. c.25, the bank agreed to pay to government for the renewal of its charter £110,000, without interest or re-payment. This sum, therefore did not increase either of those two other sums.
The dividend of the bank has varied according to the variations in the rate of the interest which it has, at different times, received for the money it had advanced to the public, as well as according to other circumstances. This rate of interest has gradually been reduced from eight to three per cent. For some years past, the bank dividend has been at five and a half per cent.
The stability of the bank of England is equal to that of the British government. All that it has advanced to the public must be lost before its creditors can sustain any loss. No other banking company in England can be established by act of parliament, or can consist of more than six members. It acts, not only as an ordinary bank, but as a great engine of state. It receives and pays the greater part of the annuities which are due to the creditors of the public; it circulates exchequer bills; and it advances to government the annual amount of the land and malt taxes, which are frequently not paid up till some years thereafter. In these different operations, its duty to the public may sometimes have obliged it, without any fault of its directors, to overstock the circulation with paper money. It likewise discounts merchants’ bills, and has, upon several different occasions, supported the credit of the principal houses, not only of England, but of Hamburgh and Holland. Upon one occasion, in 1763, it is said to have advanced for this purpose, in one week, about £1,600,000, a great part of it in bullion. I do not, however, pretend to warrant either the greatness of the sum, or the shortness of the time. Upon other occasions, this great company has been reduced to the necessity of paying in sixpences.
It is not by augmenting the capital of the country, but by rendering a greater part of that capital active and productive than would otherwise be so, that the most judicious operations of banking can increase the industry of the country. That part of his capital which a dealer is obliged to keep by him unemployed and in ready money, for answering occasional demands, is so much dead stock, which, so long as it remains in this situation, produces nothing, either to him or to his country. The judicious operations of banking enable him to convert this dead stock into active and productive stock; into materials to work upon; into tools to work with; and into provisions and subsistence to work for; into stock which produces something both to himself and to his country. The gold and silver money which circulates in any country, and by means of which, the produce of its land and labour is annually circulated and distributed to the proper consumers, is, in the same manner as the ready money of the dealer, all dead stock. It is a very valuable part of the capital of the country, which produces nothing to the country. The judicious operations of banking, by substituting paper in the room of a great part of this gold and silver, enable the country to convert a great part of this dead stock into active and productive stock; into stock which produces something to the country. The gold and silver money which circulates in any country may very properly be compared to a highway, which, while it circulates and carries to market all the grass and corn of the country, produces itself not a single pile of either. The judicious operations of banking, by providing, if I may be allowed so violent a metaphor, a sort of waggon-way through the air, enable the country to convert, as it were, a great part of its highways into good pastures, and corn fields, and thereby to increase, very considerably, the annual produce of its land and labour. The commerce and industry of the country, however, it must be acknowledged, though they may be somewhat augmented, cannot be altogether so secure, when they are thus, as it were, suspended upon the Daedalian wings of paper money, as when they travel about upon the solid ground of gold and silver. Over and above the accidents to which they are exposed from the unskilfulness of the conductors of this paper money, they are liable to several others, from which no prudence or skill of those conductors can guard them.
An unsuccessful war, for example, in which the enemy got possession of the capital, and consequently of that treasure which supported the credit of the paper money, would occasion a much greater confusion in a country where the whole circulation was carried on by paper, than in one where the greater part of it was carried on by gold and silver. The usual instrument of commerce having lost its value, no exchanges could be made but either by barter or upon credit. All taxes having been usually paid in paper money, the prince would not have wherewithal either to pay his troops, or to furnish his magazines; and the state of the country would be much more irretrievable than if the greater part of its circulation had consisted in gold and silver. A prince, anxious to maintain his dominions at all times in the state in which he can most easily defend them, ought upon this account to guard not only against that excessive multiplication of paper money which ruins the very banks which issue it, but even against that multiplication of it which enables them to fill the greater part of the circulation of the country with it.
The circulation of every country may be considered as divided into two different branches; the circulation of the dealers with one another, and the circulation between the dealers and the consumers. Though the same pieces of money, whether paper or metal, may be employed sometimes in the one circulation and sometimes in the other; yet as both are constantly going on at the same time, each requires a certain stock of money, of one kind or another, to carry it on. The value of the goods circulated between the different dealers never can exceed the value of those circulated between the dealers and the consumers; whatever is bought by the dealers being ultimately destined to be sold to the consumers. The circulation between the dealers, as it is carried on by wholesale, requires generally a pretty large sum for every particular transaction. That between the dealers and the consumers, on the contrary, as it is generally carried on by retail, frequently requires but very small ones, a shilling, or even a halfpenny, being often sufficient. But small sums circulate much faster than large ones. A shilling changes masters more frequently than a guinea, and a halfpenny more frequently than a shilling. Though the annual purchases of all the consumers, therefore, are at least equal in value to those of all the dealers, they can generally be transacted with a much smaller quantity of money; the same pieces, by a more rapid circulation, serving as the instrument of many more purchases of the one kind than of the other.
Paper money may be so regulated as either to confine itself very much to the circulation between the different dealers, or to extend itself likewise to a great part of that between the dealers and the consumers. Where no bank notes are circulated under £10 value, as in London, paper money confines itself very much to the circulation between the dealers. When a ten pound bank note comes into the hands of a consumer, he is generally obliged to change it at the first shop where he has occasion to purchase five shillings worth of goods; so that it often returns into the hands of a dealer before the consumer has spent the fortieth part of the money. Where bank notes are issued for so small sums as 20s. as in Scotland, paper money extends itself to a considerable part of the circulation between dealers and consumers. Before the Act of parliament which put a stop to the circulation of ten and five shilling notes, it filled a still greater part of that circulation. In the currencies of North America, paper was commonly issued for so small a sum as a shilling, and filled almost the whole of that circulation. In some paper currencies of Yorkshire, it was issued even for so small a sum as a sixpence.
Where the issuing of bank notes for such very small sums is allowed, and commonly practised, many mean people are both enabled and encouraged to become bankers. A person whose promissory note for £5, or even for 20s. would be rejected by every body, will get it to be received without scruple when it is issued for so small a sum as a sixpence. But the frequent bankruptcies to which such beggarly bankers must be liable, may occasion a very considerable inconveniency, and sometimes even a very great calamity, to many poor people who had received their notes in payment.
It were better, perhaps, that no bank notes were issued in any part of the kingdom for a smaller sum than £5. Paper money would then, probably, confine itself, in every part of the kingdom, to the circulation between the different dealers, as much as it does at present in London, where no bank notes are issued under £10 value; £5 being, in most part of the kingdom, a sum which, though it will purchase, perhaps, little more than half the quantity of goods, is as much considered, and is as seldom spent all at once, as £10 are amidst the profuse expense of London.
Where paper money, it is to be observed, is pretty much confined to the circulation between dealers and dealers, as at London, there is always plenty of gold and silver. Where it extends itself to a considerable part of the circulation between dealers and consumers, as in Scotland, and still more in North America, it banishes gold and silver almost entirely from the country; almost all the ordinary transactions of its interior commerce being thus carried on by paper. The suppression of ten and five shilling bank notes, somewhat relieved the scarcity of gold and silver in Scotland; and the suppression of twenty shilling notes will probably relieve it still more. Those metals are said to have become more abundant in America, since the suppression of some of their paper currencies. They are said, likewise, to have been more abundant before the institution of those currencies.
Though paper money should be pretty much confined to the circulation between dealers and dealers, yet banks and bankers might still be able to give nearly the same assistance to the industry and commerce of the country, as they had done when paper money filled almost the whole circulation. The ready money which a dealer is obliged to keep by him, for answering occasional demands, is destined altogether for the circulation between himself and other dealers of whom he buys goods. He has no occasion to keep any by him for the circulation between himself and the consumers, who are his customers, and who bring ready money to him, instead of taking any from him. Though no paper money, therefore, was allowed to be issued, but for such sums as would confine it pretty much to the circulation between dealers and dealers; yet partly by discounting real bills of exchange, and partly by lending upon cash-accounts, banks and bankers might still be able to relieve the greater part of those dealers from the necessity of keeping any considerable part of their stock by them unemployed, and in ready money, for answering occasional demands. They might still be able to give the utmost assistance which banks and bankers can with propriety give to traders of every kind.
To restrain private people, it may be said, from receiving in payment the promissory notes of a banker for any sum, whether great or small, when they themselves are willing to receive them; or, to restrain a banker from issuing such notes, when all his neighbours are willing to accept of them, is a manifest violation of that natural liberty, which it is the proper business of law not to infringe, but to support. Such regulations may, no doubt, be considered as in some respect a violation of natural liberty. But those exertions of the natural liberty of a few individuals, which might endanger the security of the whole society, are, and ought to be, restrained by the laws of all governments; of the most free, as well as or the most despotical. The obligation of building party walls, in order to prevent the communication of fire, is a violation of natural liberty, exactly of the same kind with the regulations of the banking trade which are here proposed.
A paper money, consisting in bank notes, issued by people of undoubted credit, payable upon demand, without any condition, and, in fact, always readily paid as soon as presented, is, in every respect, equal in value to gold and silver money, since gold and silver money can at anytime be had for it. Whatever is either bought or sold for such paper, must necessarily be bought or sold as cheap as it could have been for gold and silver.
English
Under the 3rd George I. c.8, the bank delivered up two millions of exchequer bills for cancellation. It had therefore advanced the government £5,375,027:17 10d. by this time. Under the 8th George I. c.21, the bank purchased stock worth £4,000,000 from the South Sea Company; and in 1722, following the subscriptions it had taken to enable this purchase, its capital stock increased by £ 3,400,000. The bank had thus advanced the public £ 9,375,027 17s. 10½d. at this point, while its capital stock amounted to only £ 8,959,995:14:8d. It was then, for the first time, that the amount the bank had advanced the public and on which it received interest exceeded its capital stock, the amount on which it paid dividends to the owners of bank stock. In other words, the bank began to possess an undivided capital in addition to its divided capital. It has maintained an undivided capital of this kind ever since. By 1746, the bank had advanced the public £11,686,800 on various occasions, and successive calls and subscriptions had raised its divided capital to £ 10,780,000. Both sums have remained unchanged ever since. Under the 4th of George III. c.25, the bank agreed to pay the government £110,000 for the renewal of its charter, without interest or repayment. That payment therefore increased neither of the other two sums.
The bank's dividend has varied both with the rate of interest it received at different times on money advanced to the public and with other circumstances. This interest rate gradually fell from eight to three per cent. For some years now, the bank dividend has stood at five and a half per cent.
The Bank of England is as stable as the British government. Its creditors cannot suffer any loss unless everything it has advanced to the public is lost first. No other banking company in England may be established by act of parliament or have more than six members. It serves not merely as an ordinary bank but as a great instrument of state. It receives and pays most of the annuities due to public creditors; circulates exchequer bills; and advances the government the annual proceeds of the land and malt taxes, often not fully paid until years later. In carrying out these functions, its duty to the public may sometimes have compelled it, through no fault of its directors, to put too much paper money into circulation. It also discounts merchants' bills and has on several occasions upheld the credit of leading firms, not only in England but in Hamburgh and Holland. On one occasion, in 1763, it is said to have advanced some £1,600,000 for this purpose in one week, much of it in bullion. I do not, however, claim to vouch either for the size of the sum or for the brevity of the period. At other times this great company has been reduced to paying in sixpences.
The wisest banking operations increase a country's industry not by increasing its capital but by making more of its existing capital active and productive. The part of a dealer's capital that he must keep idle as ready money to meet occasional demands is dead stock: while it remains in that condition, it produces nothing for him or his country. Prudent banking enables him to turn that dead stock into active, productive stock: materials to work on, tools to work with, and provisions and sustenance to work for—stock that produces something for both himself and his country. Likewise, the gold and silver money that circulates in a country, distributing the annual produce of its land and labor to its proper consumers, is all dead stock, just like a dealer's ready money. It is a very valuable part of the country's capital, yet produces nothing for the country. By replacing much of this gold and silver with paper, prudent banking enables the country to turn much of its dead stock into active and productive stock, which does produce something for it. The gold and silver circulating in a country may fittingly be compared to a highway: it carries all the country's grass and corn to market, yet itself produces not one blade of either. By providing, if I may be permitted so bold a metaphor, a kind of wagon road through the air, prudent banking allows the country to turn much of its highways, as it were, into good pasture and cornfields, greatly increasing the annual produce of its land and labor. Yet we must acknowledge that commerce and industry, though they may grow somewhat, cannot be quite as secure when suspended, so to speak, on the Daedalian wings of paper money as when they travel over the solid ground of gold and silver. Beyond the accidents to which the managers' lack of skill exposes them, they are vulnerable to others against which no skill or prudence on the managers' part can protect them.
Consider an unsuccessful war in which an enemy seized the capital and with it the treasure supporting the credit of paper money. Such a war would throw a country whose entire circulation depended on paper into far greater confusion than one whose circulation consisted chiefly of gold and silver. Once the ordinary medium of commerce had lost its value, exchange could take place only through barter or credit. As taxes had ordinarily been paid in paper money, the sovereign would have nothing with which to pay his troops or provision his stores; the country's plight would be far harder to remedy than if most of its circulating money had been gold and silver. A sovereign who wishes always to keep his dominions in the condition in which they can most easily be defended should therefore guard not only against an excessive multiplication of paper money that ruins the very banks issuing it, but even against its multiplication to the point where it fills most of the country's circulation.
The circulation of every country may be divided into two branches: exchanges among dealers, and exchanges between dealers and consumers. The same pieces of money, whether paper or metal, may serve at times in one branch and at times in the other; but as both operate continuously and simultaneously, each needs a certain stock of money of one kind or another. The value of the goods passing among dealers can never exceed the value of those passing between dealers and consumers, since everything dealers buy is ultimately intended for sale to consumers. Trade among dealers, conducted wholesale, generally calls for a fairly large sum in each transaction. Trade between dealers and consumers, by contrast, is generally retail and often requires only very small sums: a shilling or even a halfpenny may suffice. Small sums, however, circulate much faster than large ones. A shilling changes hands more often than a guinea, and a halfpenny more often than a shilling. Thus, although all consumers' annual purchases are worth at least as much as all dealers' purchases, they can generally be transacted with much less money: by circulating more quickly, the same pieces serve many more purchases of the former kind than of the latter.
Paper money can be regulated to remain largely within exchanges among dealers, or to extend over much of the exchange between dealers and consumers as well. Where bank notes below £10 are not circulated, as in London, paper remains largely within trade among dealers. When a ten pound bank note reaches a consumer, he generally must change it at the first shop where he needs to buy five shillings' worth of goods. It often returns to a dealer before the consumer has spent a fortieth of its value. Where notes are issued for sums as small as 20s., as in Scotland, paper money extends into a substantial part of trade between dealers and consumers. Before the act of parliament stopping the circulation of ten and five shilling notes, it filled still more of that trade. In North American currencies, paper was commonly issued for as little as a shilling and filled almost the whole of that circulation. Some paper currencies in Yorkshire even issued notes for as little as a sixpence.
When issuing bank notes for such tiny sums is permitted and common, many people of scant means are both enabled and encouraged to become bankers. A person's promissory note for £5, or even 20s., might be refused by everyone, yet a note of his for only a sixpence will be accepted without hesitation. The frequent bankruptcies to which bankers so impoverished must be liable, however, may cause considerable hardship, and sometimes even great calamity, to the many poor people who have accepted their notes in payment.
It might be better if no bank notes worth less than £5 were issued anywhere in the kingdom. Paper money would then probably remain largely within trade among dealers throughout the kingdom, just as it does now in London, where no notes below £10 are issued. For in most parts of the kingdom, £5, though it may buy little more than half as many goods, is regarded as substantial a sum, and is as seldom spent all at once, as £10 amid the lavish spending of London.
It should be noted that wherever paper money remains largely confined to exchanges among dealers, as in London, gold and silver are always plentiful. Where it extends over a substantial portion of exchanges between dealers and consumers, as in Scotland and even more in North America, it drives gold and silver almost entirely out of the country: nearly all ordinary domestic transactions are then conducted in paper. The suppression of ten and five shilling bank notes somewhat eased Scotland's shortage of gold and silver; suppressing twenty shilling notes will probably ease it further. Those metals are said to have become more plentiful in America since some of its paper currencies were suppressed. They are also said to have been more plentiful before those currencies were introduced.
Even if paper money were largely confined to trade among dealers, banks and bankers could still assist the country's industry and commerce almost as much as they did when paper filled nearly all circulation. The ready money a dealer must keep at hand to meet occasional demands is intended entirely for his transactions with other dealers from whom he buys goods. He need keep none for transactions with his customers, the consumers, who bring ready money to him rather than take it from him. Therefore, even if paper could be issued only in denominations that largely restricted it to exchanges among dealers, banks and bankers could still, partly through discounting genuine bills of exchange and partly through lending on cash accounts, free most dealers from the need to keep a substantial portion of their stock idle as ready money for occasional demands. They could still give traders of every kind all the assistance it is proper for banks and bankers to give.
It may be said that to prevent private individuals from accepting a banker's promissory notes in payment, whatever the sum, when they are willing to do so—or to prevent a banker from issuing such notes when all his neighbors are willing to accept them—is an obvious violation of natural liberty, which the law should uphold, not infringe. Such regulations can certainly be regarded in some respects as violations of natural liberty. But exercises of a few individuals' natural liberty that might endanger the safety of society as a whole are, and ought to be, restrained by the laws of every government, the freest no less than the most despotic. The requirement to build party walls to keep fire from spreading violates natural liberty in precisely the same way as the proposed regulations of banking.
Paper money consisting of bank notes issued by people of unquestionable credit, payable unconditionally on demand and in fact always promptly paid on presentation, is in every respect equal in value to gold and silver money: gold and silver can always be obtained for it. Whatever is bought or sold for such paper must necessarily be bought or sold as cheaply as it would have been for gold and silver.
Book II, Chapter II, 8
18th-century English
The increase of paper money, it has been said, by augmenting the quantity, and consequently diminishing the value, of the whole currency, necessarily augments the money price of commodities. But as the quantity of gold and silver, which is taken from the currency, is always equal to the quantity of paper which is added to it, paper money does not necessarily increase the quantity of the whole currency. From the beginning of the last century to the present time, provisions never were cheaper in Scotland than in 1759, though, from the circulation of ten and five shilling bank notes, there was then more paper money in the country than at present. The proportion between the price of provisions in Scotland and that in England is the same now as before the great multiplication of banking companies in Scotland. Corn is, upon most occasions, fully as cheap in England as in France, though there is a great deal of paper money in England, and scarce any in France. In 1751 and 1752, when Mr Hume published his Political Discourses, and soon after the great multiplication of paper money in Scotland, there was a very sensible rise in the price of provisions, owing, probably, to the badness of the seasons, and not to the multiplication of paper money.
It would be otherwise, indeed, with a paper money, consisting in promissory notes, of which the immediate payment depended, in any respect, either upon the good will of those who issued them, or upon a condition which the holder of the notes might not always have it in his power to fulfil, or of which the payment was not exigible till after a certain number of years, and which, in the mean time, bore no interest. Such a paper money would, no doubt, fall more or less below the value of gold and silver, according as the difficulty or uncertainty of obtaining immediate payment was supposed to be greater or less, or according to the greater or less distance of time at which payment was exigible.
Some years ago the different banking companies of Scotland were in the practice of inserting into their bank notes, what they called an optional clause; by which they promised payment to the bearer, either as soon as the note should be presented, or, in the option of the directors, six months after such presentment, together with the legal interest for the said six months. The directors of some of those banks sometimes took advantage of this optional clause, and sometimes threatened those who demanded gold and silver in exchange for a considerable number of their notes, that they would take advantage of it, unless such demanders would content themselves with a part of what they demanded. The promissory notes of those banking companies constituted, at that time, the far greater part of the currency of Scotland, which this uncertainty of payment necessarily degraded below value of gold and silver money. During the continuance of this abuse (which prevailed chiefly in 1762, 1763, and 1764), while the exchange between London and Carlisle was at par, that between London and Dumfries would sometimes be four per cent. against Dumfries, though this town is not thirty miles distant from Carlisle. But at Carlisle, bills were paid in gold and silver; whereas at Dumfries they were paid in Scotch bank notes; and the uncertainty of getting these bank notes exchanged for gold and silver coin, had thus degraded them four per cent. below the value of that coin. The same act of parliament which suppressed ten and five shilling bank notes, suppressed likewise this optional clause, and thereby restored the exchange between England and Scotland to its natural rate, or to what the course of trade and remittances might happen to make it.
In the paper currencies of Yorkshire, the payment of so small a sum as 6d. sometimes depended upon the condition, that the holder of the note should bring the change of a guinea to the person who issued it; a condition which the holders of such notes might frequently find it very difficult to fulfil, and which must have degraded this currency below the value of gold and silver money. An act of parliament, accordingly, declared all such clauses unlawful, and suppressed, in the same manner as in Scotland, all promissory notes, payable to the bearer, under 20s. value.
The paper currencies of North America consisted, not in bank notes payable to the bearer on demand, but in a government paper, of which the payment was not exigible till several years after it was issued; and though the colony governments paid no interest to the holders of this paper, they declared it to be, and in fact rendered it, a legal tender of payment for the full value for which it was issued. But allowing the colony security to be perfectly good, £100, payable fifteen years hence, for example, in a country where interest is at six per cent., is worth little more than £40 ready money. To oblige a creditor, therefore, to accept of this as full payment for a debt of £100, actually paid down in ready money, was an act of such violent injustice, as has scarce, perhaps, been attempted by the government of any other country which pretended to be free. It bears the evident marks of having originally been, what the honest and downright Doctor Douglas assures us it was, a scheme of fraudulent debtors to cheat their creditors. The government of Pennsylvania, indeed, pretended, upon their first emission of paper money, in 1722, to render their paper of equal value with gold and silver, by enacting penalties against all those who made any difference in the price of their goods when they sold them for a colony paper, and when they sold them for gold and silver, a regulation equally tyrannical, but much less, effectual, than that which it was meant to support. A positive law may render a shilling a legal tender for a guinea, because it may direct the courts of justice to discharge the debtor who has made that tender; but no positive law can oblige a person who sells goods, and who is at liberty to sell or not to sell as he pleases, to accept of a shilling as equivalent to a guinea in the price of them. Notwithstanding any regulation of this kind, it appeared, by the course of exchange with Great Britain, that £100 sterling was occasionally considered as equivalent, in some of the colonies, to £130, and in others to so great a sum as £1100 currency; this difference in the value arising from the difference in the quantity of paper emitted in the different colonies, and in the distance and probability of the term of its final discharge and redemption.
No law, therefore, could be more equitable than the act of parliament, so unjustly complained of in the colonies, which declared, that no paper currency to be emitted there in time coming, should be a legal tender of payment.
Pennsylvania was always more moderate in its emissions of paper money than any other of our colonies. Its paper currency, accordingly, is said never to have sunk below the value of the gold and silver which was current in the colony before the first emission of its paper money. Before that emission, the colony had raised the denomination of its coin, and had, by act of assembly, ordered 5s. sterling to pass in the colonies for 6s:3d., and afterwards for 6s:8d. A pound, colony currency, therefore, even when that currency was gold and silver, was more than thirty per cent. below the value of £1 sterling; and when that currency was turned into paper, it was seldom much more than thirty per cent. below that value. The pretence for raising the denomination of the coin was to prevent the exportation of gold and silver, by making equal quantities of those metals pass for greater sums in the colony than they did in the mother country. It was found, however, that the price of all goods from the mother country rose exactly in proportion as they raised the denomination of their coin, so that their gold and silver were exported as fast as ever.
The paper of each colony being received in the payment of the provincial taxes, for the full value for which it had been issued, it necessarily derived from this use some additional value, over and above what it would have had, from the real or supposed distance of the term of its final discharge and redemption. This additional value was greater or less, according as the quantity of paper issued was more or less above what could be employed in the payment of the taxes of the particular colony which issued it. It was in all the colonies very much above what could be employed in this manner.
A prince, who should enact that a certain proportion of his taxes should be paid in a paper money of a certain kind, might thereby give a certain value to this paper money, even though the term of its final discharge and redemption should depend altogether upon the will of the prince. If the bank which issued this paper was careful to keep the quantity of it always somewhat below what could easily be employed in this manner, the demand for it might be such as to make it even bear a premium, or sell for somewhat more in the market than the quantity of gold or silver currency for which it was issued. Some people account in this manner for what is called the agio of the bank of Amsterdam, or for the superiority of bank money over current money, though this bank money, as they pretend, cannot be taken out of the bank at the will of the owner. The greater part of foreign bills of exchange must be paid in bank money, that is, by a transfer in the books of the bank; and the directors of the bank, they allege, are careful to keep the whole quantity of bank money always below what this use occasions a demand for. It is upon this account, they say, the bank money sells for a premium, or bears an agio of four or five per cent. above the same nominal sum of the gold and silver currency of the country. This account of the bank of Amsterdam, however, it will appear hereafter, is in a great measure chimerical.
A paper currency which falls below the value of gold and silver coin, does not thereby sink the value of those metals, or occasion equal quantities of them to exchange for a smaller quantity of goods of any other kind. The proportion between the value of gold and silver and that of goods of any other kind, depends in all cases, not upon the nature and quantity of any particular paper money, which may be current in any particular country, but upon the richness or poverty of the mines, which happen at any particular time to supply the great market of the commercial world with those metals. It depends upon the proportion between the quantity of labour which is necessary in order to bring a certain quantity of gold and silver to market, and that which is necessary in order to bring thither a certain quantity of any other sort of goods.
If bankers are restrained from issuing any circulating bank notes, or notes payable to the bearer, for less than a certain sum; and if they are subjected to the obligation of an immediate and unconditional payment of such bank notes as soon as presented, their trade may, with safety to the public, be rendered in all other respects perfectly free. The late multiplication of banking companies in both parts of the united kingdom, an event by which many people have been much alarmed, instead of diminishing, increases the security of the public. It obliges all of them to be more circumspect in their conduct, and, by not extending their currency beyond its due proportion to their cash, to guard themselves against those malicious runs, which the rivalship of so many competitors is always ready to bring upon them. It restrains the circulation of each particular company within a narrower circle, and reduces their circulating notes to a smaller number. By dividing the whole circulation into a greater number of parts, the failure of any one company, an accident which, in the course of things, must sometimes happen, becomes of less consequence to the public. This free competition, too, obliges all bankers to be more liberal in their dealings with their customers, lest their rivals should carry them away. In general, if any branch of trade, or any division of labour, be advantageous to the public, the freer and more general the competition, it will always be the more so.
English
It has been argued that more paper money increases the total quantity of currency and thus diminishes its value, necessarily raising the money price of goods. But because the amount of gold and silver withdrawn from circulation always equals the amount of paper added, paper money does not necessarily increase the total quantity of currency. From the beginning of the last century to the present, provisions in Scotland have never been cheaper than they were in 1759, though ten and five shilling bank notes meant that more paper money circulated there then than now. The relation between the price of provisions in Scotland and their price in England is the same now as it was before the great multiplication of banking companies in Scotland. Corn is generally quite as cheap in England as in France, although England has a great deal of paper money and France scarcely any. In 1751 and 1752, when Mr Hume published his Political Discourses, shortly after Scotland's great multiplication of paper money, the price of provisions rose markedly—probably because of poor seasons, not because of the increase in paper money.
It would indeed be different with paper money made up of promissory notes whose immediate payment depended in any way on the good will of their issuers, or on a condition the holder might not always be able to meet, or whose payment could not be demanded for several years and which earned no interest in the meantime. Such paper money would undoubtedly fall below the value of gold and silver, by more or less according to the perceived difficulty or uncertainty of obtaining immediate payment, or the length of time before payment could be demanded.
Some years ago, various Scottish banking companies used to insert what they called an optional clause in their bank notes. They promised to pay the bearer either on presentation or, at the directors' option, six months afterward, with legal interest for those six months. Directors of some banks sometimes exercised this option, and sometimes threatened people demanding gold and silver for a substantial number of their notes with its exercise unless they accepted only part of what they demanded. The promissory notes of those companies then made up by far the greater part of Scotland's currency, which this uncertainty of payment necessarily lowered below the value of gold and silver money. While this abuse persisted, chiefly in 1762, 1763, and 1764, exchange between London and Carlisle stood at par, yet exchange between London and Dumfries, less than thirty miles from Carlisle, was sometimes four per cent. against Dumfries. At Carlisle bills were paid in gold and silver; at Dumfries, in Scottish bank notes. The uncertainty of exchanging those notes for gold and silver coin had thus reduced their value four per cent. below that of the coin. The same act of parliament that suppressed ten and five shilling bank notes also suppressed the optional clause, restoring the exchange between England and Scotland to its natural rate, whatever trade and remittances might make it.
In Yorkshire's paper currencies, payment of a sum as small as 6d. sometimes depended on the noteholder bringing change for a guinea to the issuer—a condition holders could often find very difficult to meet, and one that must have reduced this currency below the value of gold and silver money. An act of parliament accordingly declared all such clauses unlawful and, as in Scotland, suppressed all bearer promissory notes worth less than 20s.
North America's paper currencies were not bank notes payable to the bearer on demand, but government paper whose payment could not be demanded until several years after issue. Though colonial governments paid holders no interest, they declared this paper legal tender at its full stated value and made it so in practice. Yet even assuming perfectly sound colonial security, £100 payable fifteen years hence in a country where interest is six per cent. is worth little more than £40 in ready money. To force a creditor to accept this as full repayment of a debt of £100 actually advanced in ready money was an act of such gross injustice as scarcely any other government claiming to be free has perhaps attempted. It plainly bears the marks of what the honest and forthright Doctor Douglas tells us it originally was: a scheme by fraudulent debtors to cheat their creditors. When Pennsylvania first issued paper money in 1722, its government indeed claimed it would make that paper equal in value to gold and silver by imposing penalties on anyone who charged different prices for goods sold for colonial paper and for gold and silver. This regulation was as tyrannical as the measure it was meant to support, but far less effective. A statute can make a shilling legal tender for a guinea by directing courts to discharge a debtor who tenders it; but no statute can make a seller, free to sell or not as he pleases, accept a shilling as the equivalent of a guinea in the price of his goods. Despite regulations of this sort, the exchange rate against Great Britain showed that £100 sterling was at times reckoned equal to £130 in the currency of some colonies, and to as much as £1100 in others. The difference arose from variations in the quantity of paper issued by the colonies and in the remoteness and likelihood of its eventual payment and redemption.
No law, therefore, could be more equitable than the act of parliament, so unjustly resented in the colonies, declaring that no paper currency issued there in future should be legal tender for payment.
Pennsylvania was always more restrained in issuing paper money than any other of our colonies. Its paper currency is therefore said never to have fallen below the value of the gold and silver circulating in the colony before paper was first issued. Before that issue, however, the colony had raised the denomination of its coin: an act of assembly directed that 5s. sterling should pass in the colonies for 6s:3d., and subsequently for 6s:8d. A pound in colonial currency, even while that currency was gold and silver, was thus more than thirty per cent. below the value of £1 sterling; once the currency became paper, it was seldom much more than thirty per cent. below that value. The stated reason for raising the denomination of the coin was to prevent the export of gold and silver by making the same quantities of those metals pass for larger sums in the colony than in the mother country. It turned out, however, that the price of all goods imported from the mother country rose in exact proportion to the increase in the coin's denomination, and gold and silver were exported just as rapidly as before.
Because each colony accepted its own paper at full face value in payment of provincial taxes, this use necessarily gave the paper some value beyond what it would have had in view of the actual or supposed remoteness of its final payment and redemption. That additional value was greater or less according as the quantity issued exceeded, by more or less, what could be used to pay that particular colony's taxes. In every colony, the quantity issued greatly exceeded what could be used in this way.
A sovereign who enacted that a certain proportion of his taxes must be paid in a particular kind of paper money could thereby give that paper some value, even if its eventual payment and redemption depended entirely on his will. If the issuing bank took care to keep the quantity of paper somewhat below the amount readily usable for this purpose, demand might even cause it to command a premium, selling in the market for somewhat more than the amount of gold or silver currency for which it was issued. Some explain the so-called agio of the Bank of Amsterdam this way: the premium of bank money over current money, even though, they claim, its owner cannot withdraw bank money from the bank at will. Most foreign bills of exchange must be paid in bank money, that is, by transfers in the bank's books; the bank's directors, it is alleged, keep the total quantity of bank money below what this use creates a demand for. This, they say, is why bank money sells at a premium, commanding an agio of four or five per cent. over the same nominal sum in the country's gold and silver currency. As will appear later, however, this account of the Bank of Amsterdam is largely imaginary.
When a paper currency falls below the value of gold and silver coin, it does not thereby lower the value of those metals or cause equal quantities of them to exchange for fewer goods of any other kind. The relation between the value of gold and silver and that of other goods never depends on the nature or quantity of any particular paper money circulating in a given country, but on the richness or poverty of the mines then supplying those metals to the great market of the commercial world. It depends on the relation between the labor required to bring a certain quantity of gold and silver to market and the labor required to bring a certain quantity of any other goods there.
If bankers are forbidden to issue circulating bank notes, or bearer notes, below a certain denomination, and required to pay all such notes immediately and unconditionally on presentation, their business can safely be made entirely free in every other respect. The recent multiplication of banking companies in both parts of the united kingdom, which has alarmed many people, increases rather than diminishes public security. It compels every bank to act more cautiously, keeping the notes it circulates in due proportion to its cash so as to protect itself against the malicious runs that competition among so many rivals is always liable to provoke. It confines each company's circulation to a narrower sphere and reduces the number of its outstanding notes. Dividing the whole circulation among more companies lessens the public consequences of any one company's failure, an event that must sometimes occur in the course of things. Free competition also obliges all bankers to deal more generously with their customers for fear that rivals will take them away. In general, if a branch of trade or a division of labor benefits the public, freer and more widespread competition will always make it more beneficial.
Book II, Chapter III, 1
18th-century English
OF THE ACCUMULATION OF CAPITAL, OR OF PRODUCTIVE AND UNPRODUCTIVE LABOUR.
There is one sort of labour which adds to the value of the subject upon which it is bestowed; there is another which has no such effect. The former as it produces a value, may be called productive, the latter, unproductive labour. {Some French authors of great learning and ingenuity have used those words in a different sense. In the last chapter of the fourth book, I shall endeavour to shew that their sense is an improper one.} Thus the labour of a manufacturer adds generally to the value of the materials which he works upon, that of his own maintenance, and of his master’s profit. The labour of a menial servant, on the contrary, adds to the value of nothing. Though the manufacturer has his wages advanced to him by his master, he in reality costs him no expense, the value of those wages being generally restored, together with a profit, in the improved value of the subject upon which his labour is bestowed. But the maintenance of a menial servant never is restored. A man grows rich by employing a multitude of manufacturers; he grows poor by maintaining a multitude or menial servants. The labour of the latter, however, has its value, and deserves its reward as well as that of the former. But the labour of the manufacturer fixes and realizes itself in some particular subject or vendible commodity, which lasts for some time at least after that labour is past. It is, as it were, a certain quantity of labour stocked and stored up, to be employed, if necessary, upon some other occasion. That subject, or, what is the same thing, the price of that subject, can afterwards, if necessary, put into motion a quantity of labour equal to that which had originally produced it. The labour of the menial servant, on the contrary, does not fix or realize itself in any particular subject or vendible commodity. His services generally perish in the very instant of their performance, and seldom leave any trace of value behind them, for which an equal quantity of service could afterwards be procured.
The labour of some of the most respectable orders in the society is, like that of menial servants, unproductive of any value, and does not fix or realize itself in any permanent subject, or vendible commodity, which endures after that labour is past, and for which an equal quantity of labour could afterwards be procured. The sovereign, for example, with all the officers both of justice and war who serve under him, the whole army and navy, are unproductive labourers. They are the servants of the public, and are maintained by a part of the annual produce of the industry of other people. Their service, how honourable, how useful, or how necessary soever, produces nothing for which an equal quantity of service can afterwards be procured. The protection, security, and defence, of the commonwealth, the effect of their labour this year, will not purchase its protection, security, and defence, for the year to come. In the same class must be ranked, some both of the gravest and most important, and some of the most frivolous professions; churchmen, lawyers, physicians, men of letters of all kinds; players, buffoons, musicians, opera-singers, opera-dancers, etc. The labour of the meanest of these has a certain value, regulated by the very same principles which regulate that of every other sort of labour; and that of the noblest and most useful, produces nothing which could afterwards purchase or procure an equal quantity of labour. Like the declamation of the actor, the harangue of the orator, or the tune of the musician, the work of all of them perishes in the very instant of its production.
Both productive and unproductive labourers, and those who do not labour at all, are all equally maintained by the annual produce of the land and labour of the country. This produce, how great soever, can never be infinite, but must have certain limits. According, therefore, as a smaller or greater proportion of it is in any one year employed in maintaining unproductive hands, the more in the one case, and the less in the other, will remain for the productive, and the next year’s produce will be greater or smaller accordingly; the whole annual produce, if we except the spontaneous productions of the earth, being the effect of productive labour.
Though the whole annual produce of the land and labour of every country is no doubt ultimately destined for supplying the consumption of its inhabitants, and for procuring a revenue to them; yet when it first comes either from the ground, or from the hands of the productive labourers, it naturally divides itself into two parts. One of them, and frequently the largest, is, in the first place, destined for replacing a capital, or for renewing the provisions, materials, and finished work, which had been withdrawn from a capital; the other for constituting a revenue either to the owner of this capital, as the profit of his stock, or to some other person, as the rent of his land. Thus, of the produce of land, one part replaces the capital of the farmer; the other pays his profit and the rent of the landlord; and thus constitutes a revenue both to the owner of this capital, as the profits of his stock, and to some other person as the rent of his land. Of the produce of a great manufactory, in the same manner, one part, and that always the largest, replaces the capital of the undertaker of the work; the other pays his profit, and thus constitutes a revenue to the owner of this capital.
That part of the annual produce of the land and labour of any country which replaces a capital, never is immediately employed to maintain any but productive hands. It pays the wages of productive labour only. That which is immediately destined for constituting a revenue, either as profit or as rent, may maintain indifferently either productive or unproductive hands.
Whatever part of his stock a man employs as a capital, he always expects it to be replaced to him with a profit. He employs it, therefore, in maintaining productive hands only; and after having served in the function of a capital to him, it constitutes a revenue to them. Whenever he employs any part of it in maintaining unproductive hands of any kind, that part is from that moment withdrawn from his capital, and placed in his stock reserved for immediate consumption.
Unproductive labourers, and those who do not labour at all, are all maintained by revenue; either, first, by that part of the annual produce which is originally destined for constituting a revenue to some particular persons, either as the rent of land, or as the profits of stock; or, secondly, by that part which, though originally destined for replacing a capital, and for maintaining productive labourers only, yet when it comes into their hands, whatever part of it is over and above their necessary subsistence, may be employed in maintaining indifferently either productive or unproductive hands. Thus, not only the great landlord or the rich merchant, but even the common workman, if his wages are considerable, may maintain a menial servant; or he may sometimes go to a play or a puppet-show, and so contribute his share towards maintaining one set of unproductive labourers; or he may pay some taxes, and thus help to maintain another set, more honourable and useful, indeed, but equally unproductive. No part of the annual produce, however, which had been originally destined to replace a capital, is ever directed towards maintaining unproductive hands, till after it has put into motion its full complement of productive labour, or all that it could put into motion in the way in which it was employed. The workman must have earned his wages by work done, before he can employ any part of them in this manner. That part, too, is generally but a small one. It is his spare revenue only, of which productive labourers have seldom a great deal. They generally have some, however; and in the payment of taxes, the greatness of their number may compensate, in some measure, the smallness of their contribution. The rent of land and the profits of stock are everywhere, therefore, the principal sources from which unproductive hands derive their subsistence. These are the two sorts of revenue of which the owners have generally most to spare. They might both maintain indifferently, either productive or unproductive hands. They seem, however, to have some predilection for the latter. The expense of a great lord feeds generally more idle than industrious people. The rich merchant, though with his capital he maintains industrious people only, yet by his expense, that is, by the employment of his revenue, he feeds commonly the very same sort as the great lord.
The proportion, therefore, between the productive and unproductive hands, depends very much in every country upon the proportion between that part of the annual produce, which, as soon as it comes either from the ground, or from the hands of the productive labourers, is destined for replacing a capital, and that which is destined for constituting a revenue, either as rent or as profit. This proportion is very different in rich from what it is in poor countries.
Thus, at present, in the opulent countries of Europe, a very large, frequently the largest, portion of the produce of the land, is destined for replacing the capital of the rich and independent farmer; the other for paying his profits, and the rent of the landlord. But anciently, during the prevalency of the feudal government, a very small portion of the produce was sufficient to replace the capital employed in cultivation. It consisted commonly in a few wretched cattle, maintained altogether by the spontaneous produce of uncultivated land, and which might, therefore, be considered as a part of that spontaneous produce. It generally, too, belonged to the landlord, and was by him advanced to the occupiers of the land. All the rest of the produce properly belonged to him too, either as rent for his land, or as profit upon this paltry capital. The occupiers of land were generally bond-men, whose persons and effects were equally his property. Those who were not bond-men were tenants at will; and though the rent which they paid was often nominally little more than a quit-rent, it really amounted to the whole produce of the land. Their lord could at all times command their labour in peace and their service in war. Though they lived at a distance from his house, they were equally dependent upon him as his retainers who lived in it. But the whole produce of the land undoubtedly belongs to him, who can dispose of the labour and service of all those whom it maintains. In the present state of Europe, the share of the landlord seldom exceeds a third, sometimes not a fourth part of the whole produce of the land. The rent of land, however, in all the improved parts of the country, has been tripled and quadrupled since those ancient times; and this third or fourth part of the annual produce is, it seems, three or four times greater than the whole had been before. In the progress of improvement, rent, though it increases in proportion to the extent, diminishes in proportion to the produce of the land.
In the opulent countries of Europe, great capitals are at present employed in trade and manufactures. In the ancient state, the little trade that was stirring, and the few homely and coarse manufactures that were carried on, required but very small capitals. These, however, must have yielded very large profits. The rate of interest was nowhere less than ten per cent. and their profits must have been sufficient to afford this great interest. At present, the rate of interest, in the improved parts of Europe, is nowhere higher than six per cent.; and in some of the most improved, it is so low as four, three, and two per cent. Though that part of the revenue of the inhabitants which is derived from the profits of stock, is always much greater in rich than in poor countries, it is because the stock is much greater; in proportion to the stock, the profits are generally much less.
That part of the annual produce, therefore, which, as soon as it comes either from the ground, or from the hands of the productive labourers, is destined for replacing a capital, is not only much greater in rich than in poor countries, but bears a much greater proportion to that which is immediately destined for constituting a revenue either as rent or as profit. The funds destined for the maintenance of productive labour are not only much greater in the former than in the latter, but bear a much greater proportion to those which, though they may be employed to maintain either productive or unproductive hands, have generally a predilection for the latter.
The proportion between those different funds necessarily determines in every country the general character of the inhabitants as to industry or idleness. We are more industrious than our forefathers, because, in the present times, the funds destined for the maintenance of industry are much greater in proportion to those which are likely to be employed in the maintenance of idleness, than they were two or three centuries ago. Our ancestors were idle for want of a sufficient encouragement to industry. It is better, says the proverb, to play for nothing, than to work for nothing. In mercantile and manufacturing towns, where the inferior ranks of people are chiefly maintained by the employment of capital, they are in general industrious, sober, and thriving; as in many English, and in most Dutch towns. In those towns which are principally supported by the constant or occasional residence of a court, and in which the inferior ranks of people are chiefly maintained by the spending of revenue, they are in general idle, dissolute, and poor; as at Rome, Versailles, Compeigne, and Fontainbleau. If you except Rouen and Bourdeaux, there is little trade or industry in any of the parliament towns of France; and the inferior ranks of people, being chiefly maintained by the expense of the members of the courts of justice, and of those who come to plead before them, are in general idle and poor. The great trade of Rouen and Bourdeaux seems to be altogether the effect of their situation. Rouen is necessarily the entrepot of almost all the goods which are brought either from foreign countries, or from the maritime provinces of France, for the consumption of the great city of Paris. Bourdeaux is, in the same manner, the entrepot of the wines which grow upon the banks of the Garronne, and of the rivers which run into it, one of the richest wine countries in the world, and which seems to produce the wine fittest for exportation, or best suited to the taste of foreign nations. Such advantageous situations necessarily attract a great capital by the great employment which they afford it; and the employment of this capital is the cause of the industry of those two cities. In the other parliament towns of France, very little more capital seems to be employed than what is necessary for supplying their own consumption; that is, little more than the smallest capital which can be employed in them. The same thing may be said of Paris, Madrid, and Vienna. Of those three cities, Paris is by far the most industrious, but Paris itself is the principal market of all the manufactures established at Paris, and its own consumption is the principal object of all the trade which it carries on. London, Lisbon, and Copenhagen, are, perhaps, the only three cities in Europe, which are both the constant residence of a court, and can at the same time be considered as trading cities, or as cities which trade not only for their own consumption, but for that of other cities and countries. The situation of all the three is extremely advantageous, and naturally fits them to be the entrepots of a great part of the goods destined for the consumption of distant places. In a city where a great revenue is spent, to employ with advantage a capital for any other purpose than for supplying the consumption of that city, is probably more difficult than in one in which the inferior ranks of people have no other maintenance but what they derive from the employment of such a capital. The idleness of the greater part of the people who are maintained by the expense of revenue, corrupts, it is probable, the industry of those who ought to be maintained by the employment of capital, and renders it less advantageous to employ a capital there than in other places. There was little trade or industry in Edinburgh before the Union. When the Scotch parliament was no longer to be assembled in it, when it ceased to be the necessary residence of the principal nobility and gentry of Scotland, it became a city of some trade and industry. It still continues, however, to be the residence of the principal courts of justice in Scotland, of the boards of customs and excise, etc. A considerable revenue, therefore, still continues to be spent in it. In trade and industry, it is much inferior to Glasgow, of which the inhabitants are chiefly maintained by the employment of capital. The inhabitants of a large village, it has sometimes been observed, after having made considerable progress in manufactures, have become idle and poor, in consequence of a great lord’s having taken up his residence in their neighbourhood.
English
Of the Accumulation of Capital, or of Productive and Unproductive Labor.
One kind of labor adds value to the thing on which it is expended; another does not. The former, since it produces value, may be called productive labor; the latter, unproductive labor. [Certain highly learned and ingenious French authors have used these words in a different sense. In the last chapter of the fourth book, I shall attempt to show why their sense is improper.] Thus a manufacturer's labor generally adds to the value of the materials he works on both the value of his own maintenance and that of his master's profit. A domestic servant's labor, by contrast, adds value to nothing. Though the manufacturer receives his wages in advance from his master, he actually costs him nothing: the value of those wages is generally recovered, along with a profit, in the increased value of the thing on which the labor is spent. But the maintenance of a domestic servant is never recovered. A man grows rich by employing many manufacturers; he grows poor by maintaining many domestic servants. The labor of servants nevertheless has value, and deserves its reward no less than the labor of manufacturers. But the manufacturer's labor fixes and embodies itself in a particular object or saleable commodity that endures for at least some time after the labor is finished. It is, as it were, labor accumulated and stored up, available for use on another occasion if needed. That object, or equivalently its price, can later set in motion an amount of labor equal to that which originally produced it. The domestic servant's labor, in contrast, fixes or embodies itself in no particular object or saleable commodity. His services usually perish at the very moment they are performed and seldom leave any value behind with which an equal amount of service could afterward be obtained.
The labor of some of society's most respected orders, like the labor of domestic servants, produces no value and does not fix or embody itself in any lasting object or saleable commodity that remains when the labor is done and could later purchase an equal quantity of labor. The sovereign, for example, together with all the officers of justice and war serving under him, the whole army and navy, are unproductive laborers. They serve the public and are supported by part of the annual produce of other people's industry. Their service, however honorable, useful, or necessary, produces nothing that can later procure an equal amount of service. The protection, security, and defense of the commonwealth that their labor supplies this year will not purchase its protection, security, and defense next year. This class must also include some of the gravest and most important professions, as well as some of the most frivolous: clergy, lawyers, physicians, writers of every kind, actors, buffoons, musicians, opera singers, opera dancers, etc. The labor of the humblest among them has a value determined by the same principles as every other kind of labor; that of the noblest and most useful produces nothing that could subsequently purchase or procure an equal amount of labor. Like an actor's declamation, an orator's speech, or a musician's tune, the work of them all perishes at the instant of its production.
Productive and unproductive laborers alike, as well as people who do no labor at all, are supported by the annual produce of the country's land and labor. However great this produce may be, it cannot be infinite; it must have limits. Therefore, the smaller the share used in any year to support unproductive people, the more remains for productive people, and next year's produce will be correspondingly greater; the larger that share, the less remains, and next year's produce will be correspondingly smaller. Apart from the spontaneous produce of the earth, the whole annual produce is the result of productive labor.
The whole annual produce of every country's land and labor is doubtless ultimately intended to supply its inhabitants' consumption and provide them with revenue. Yet when it first emerges from the ground or from the hands of productive laborers, it naturally divides into two parts. One part, frequently the larger, is initially intended to replace a capital—to renew the provisions, materials, and finished goods drawn from that capital. The other constitutes revenue either for the owner of the capital, as profit on his stock, or for someone else, as rent on his land. Thus one part of the produce of land replaces the farmer's capital, while another pays his profit and the landlord's rent, providing revenue both for the capital's owner as profit on his stock and for another person as rent on his land. Likewise, one part of the produce of a large manufactory, always the greater part, replaces the capital of the person who undertakes the work; the other pays his profit and thus provides revenue to the owner of that capital.
The part of a country's annual produce that replaces capital is never immediately used to support anyone but productive workers. It pays only the wages of productive labor. The part immediately destined to constitute revenue, whether profit or rent, may support either productive or unproductive workers.
A man always expects whatever portion of his stock he uses as capital to return to him with a profit. He therefore uses it only to support productive workers; after serving as capital for him, it becomes revenue for them. Whenever he uses any of it to support unproductive workers of any kind, he withdraws that portion from his capital at once and places it in the stock he reserves for immediate consumption.
Unproductive workers and people who do no work at all are all supported by revenue. This is either, first, the portion of annual produce originally destined to constitute someone's revenue as rent of land or profits of stock; or, second, the portion originally intended to replace capital and support productive workers alone, but which, once it reaches their hands, can be used beyond what they need for subsistence to support either productive or unproductive workers. Thus not only a great landlord or wealthy merchant but even an ordinary workman, if his wages are substantial, may keep a domestic servant. Or he may sometimes attend a play or puppet show, contributing to the support of one group of unproductive workers; or pay taxes, helping support another group, more honorable and useful, certainly, but equally unproductive. No part of the annual produce originally intended to replace capital, however, is ever turned toward supporting unproductive workers until it has set in motion its full complement of productive labor—all the labor it could set in motion in its particular use. A workman must earn his wages by working before he can spend any of them this way. That portion, moreover, is generally small: it consists only of his surplus revenue, of which productive laborers rarely have much. They generally have some, however; and in the payment of taxes their large numbers may partly compensate for the smallness of each contribution. The rent of land and the profits of stock are thus everywhere the chief sources of subsistence for unproductive workers. These are the two kinds of revenue whose recipients generally have the most to spare. Both could support productive and unproductive workers alike; yet their owners seem to favor the latter. A great lord's spending generally feeds more idle people than industrious ones. Though a wealthy merchant supports only industrious people with his capital, his spending—the use of his revenue—usually feeds the same sort as the great lord's.
The proportion of productive to unproductive workers in any country therefore depends greatly on the proportion between the part of annual produce destined, as soon as it comes from the ground or productive workers' hands, to replace capital and the part destined to constitute revenue as rent or profit. This proportion differs greatly between rich and poor countries.
In Europe's wealthy countries today, a very large share of the land's produce, often the largest, is destined to replace the capital of a prosperous, independent farmer; the remainder pays his profit and the landlord's rent. In former times, under feudal government, a very small share of produce was enough to replace the capital used in cultivation. This usually consisted of a few miserable cattle, sustained entirely by what uncultivated land produced of its own accord, and thus themselves countable among its spontaneous produce. These cattle generally belonged to the landlord, who advanced them to the people occupying the land. All the rest of the produce properly belonged to him too, whether as rent on his land or profit on this paltry capital. The occupiers were commonly serfs, their persons and possessions alike his property. Those who were not serfs were tenants at will; though the rent they paid was often nominally little more than a quit-rent, it in fact amounted to the whole produce of the land. Their lord could command their labor in peacetime and their service in war whenever he wished. Though they lived away from his house, they depended on him just as much as the retainers who lived in it. The whole produce of the land undoubtedly belongs to whoever can command the labor and service of everyone it sustains. In Europe today, the landlord's share seldom exceeds a third and sometimes does not reach a fourth of the land's whole produce. Yet rent in every improved part of the country has tripled and quadrupled since those early days; this third or fourth of today's annual produce is evidently three or four times larger than the whole produce was before. As improvement advances, rent increases in relation to the area of land but decreases in relation to its produce.
Large capitals now operate in trade and manufacturing throughout Europe's wealthy countries. In former times, the small amount of trade underway and the few rough, simple manufactures in operation required only very small capitals. These must nevertheless have yielded very high profits. Interest was nowhere below ten per cent., and profits must have been sufficient to pay that high interest. Now, in the improved parts of Europe, interest is nowhere above six per cent.; in some of the most improved parts it is as low as four, three, and two per cent. The portion of inhabitants' revenue derived from profits of stock is always far greater in rich countries than in poor ones, but only because stock is so much greater; relative to the amount of stock, profits are generally far smaller.
The part of annual produce destined, as soon as it comes from the ground or productive workers' hands, to replace capital is thus not only much greater in rich countries than in poor ones; it also bears a much higher proportion to the part immediately destined to constitute revenue, whether rent or profit. The funds set aside to support productive labor are not only much greater in the former countries than the latter, but are also much greater relative to the funds which could support either productive or unproductive workers, yet are generally directed toward the latter.
The proportion between these different funds necessarily shapes the prevailing character of a country's inhabitants, whether industrious or idle. We are more industrious than our ancestors because the funds supporting industry today are much greater in proportion to those likely to support idleness than they were two or three centuries ago. Our ancestors were idle because they lacked adequate encouragement to work. Better, as the proverb says, to play for nothing than to work for nothing. In towns devoted to trade and manufacturing, where capital employment chiefly supports the lower ranks, these people are generally industrious, sober, and prosperous, as in many English and most Dutch towns. In towns supported chiefly by a court's permanent or occasional residence, where spending revenue chiefly supports the lower ranks, they are generally idle, dissolute, and poor, as in Rome, Versailles, Compeigne, and Fontainbleau. Apart from Rouen and Bourdeaux, there is little trade or industry in any of the French towns that seat parliaments; their lower ranks, supported chiefly by spending on the part of judges and litigants, are generally idle and poor. The considerable trade of Rouen and Bourdeaux appears to result entirely from their locations. Rouen necessarily serves as the entrepot for nearly all the goods brought from foreign countries or France's coastal provinces for consumption in the great city of Paris. Bourdeaux likewise serves as the entrepot for the wines grown along the Garronne and its tributaries, one of the world's richest wine regions, apparently producing the wine best suited to export and to foreign tastes. Such favorable locations necessarily attract substantial capital by offering it abundant employment; the employment of this capital accounts for the industry of both cities. In France's other parliamentary towns, little more capital seems to be employed than is necessary to supply their own consumption—that is, scarcely more than the least capital that can find employment there. The same may be said of Paris, Madrid, and Vienna. Of those three cities, Paris is by far the most industrious, but Paris itself is the principal market for all the goods manufactured there, and supplying its own consumption is the main purpose of all its trade. London, Lisbon, and Copenhagen are perhaps the only three European cities that both permanently house a court and can also be called trading cities, trading not only to supply themselves but to supply other cities and countries. All three occupy exceptionally favorable sites, naturally suited to be entrepots for much of the merchandise destined for consumption far away. In a city where substantial revenue is spent, it is probably harder to employ capital profitably for any purpose other than supplying that city's consumption than in a city whose lower ranks have no support beyond the employment of such capital. The idleness of most of those supported by spending revenue probably corrupts the industry of those who ought to be supported by capital employment, making the employment of capital there less profitable than elsewhere. Before the Union, Edinburgh had little trade or industry. When the Scottish parliament stopped meeting there, and the principal Scottish nobility and gentry no longer had to live there, Edinburgh became a city with some trade and industry. It remains, however, the seat of Scotland's chief courts of justice and of the boards of customs and excise, etc. A substantial revenue is therefore still spent there. In trade and industry it falls far behind Glasgow, whose inhabitants are supported chiefly by the employment of capital. It has sometimes been observed that the inhabitants of a large village, after making considerable progress in manufacturing, have grown idle and poor when a great lord took up residence in their neighborhood.
Book II, Chapter III, 2
18th-century English
The proportion between capital and revenue, therefore, seems everywhere to regulate the proportion between industry and idleness. Wherever capital predominates, industry prevails; wherever revenue, idleness. Every increase or diminution of capital, therefore, naturally tends to increase or diminish the real quantity of industry, the number of productive hands, and consequently the exchangeable value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, the real wealth and revenue of all its inhabitants.
Capitals are increased by parsimony, and diminished by prodigality and misconduct.
Whatever a person saves from his revenue he adds to his capital, and either employs it himself in maintaining an additional number of productive hands, or enables some other person to do so, by lending it to him for an interest, that is, for a share of the profits. As the capital of an individual can be increased only by what he saves from his annual revenue or his annual gains, so the capital of a society, which is the same with that of all the individuals who compose it, can be increased only in the same manner.
Parsimony, and not industry, is the immediate cause of the increase of capital. Industry, indeed, provides the subject which parsimony accumulates; but whatever industry might acquire, if parsimony did not save and store up, the capital would never be the greater.
Parsimony, by increasing the fund which is destined for the maintenance of productive hands, tends to increase the number of those hands whose labour adds to the value of the subject upon which it is bestowed. It tends, therefore, to increase the exchangeable value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country. It puts into motion an additional quantity of industry, which gives an additional value to the annual produce.
What is annually saved, is as regularly consumed as what is annually spent, and nearly in the same time too: but it is consumed by a different set of people. That portion of his revenue which a rich man annually spends, is, in most cases, consumed by idle guests and menial servants, who leave nothing behind them in return for their consumption. That portion which he annually saves, as, for the sake of the profit, it is immediately employed as a capital, is consumed in the same manner, and nearly in the same time too, but by a different set of people: by labourers, manufacturers, and artificers, who reproduce, with a profit, the value of their annual consumption. His revenue, we shall suppose, is paid him in money. Had he spent the whole, the food, clothing, and lodging, which the whole could have purchased, would have been distributed among the former set of people. By saving a part of it, as that part is, for the sake of the profit, immediately employed as a capital, either by himself or by some other person, the food, clothing, and lodging, which may be purchased with it, are necessarily reserved for the latter. The consumption is the same, but the consumers are different.
By what a frugal man annually saves, he not only affords maintenance to an additional number of productive hands, for that of the ensuing year, but like the founder of a public work-house he establishes, as it were, a perpetual fund for the maintenance of an equal number in all times to come. The perpetual allotment and destination of this fund, indeed, is not always guarded by any positive law, by any trust-right or deed of mortmain. It is always guarded, however, by a very powerful principle, the plain and evident interest of every individual to whom any share of it shall ever belong. No part of it can ever afterwards be employed to maintain any but productive hands, without an evident loss to the person who thus perverts it from its proper destination.
The prodigal perverts it in this manner: By not confining his expense within his income, he encroaches upon his capital. Like him who perverts the revenues of some pious foundation to profane purposes, he pays the wages of idleness with those funds which the frugality of his forefathers had, as it were, consecrated to the maintenance of industry. By diminishing the funds destined for the employment of productive labour, he necessarily diminishes, so far as it depends upon him, the quantity of that labour which adds a value to the subject upon which it is bestowed, and, consequently, the value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the whole country, the real wealth and revenue of its inhabitants. If the prodigality of some were not compensated by the frugality of others, the conduct of every prodigal, by feeding the idle with the bread of the industrious, would tend not only to beggar himself, but to impoverish his country.
Though the expense of the prodigal should be altogether in home made, and no part of it in foreign commodities, its effect upon the productive funds of the society would still be the same. Every year there would still be a certain quantity of food and clothing, which ought to have maintained productive, employed in maintaining unproductive hands. Every year, therefore, there would still be some diminution in what would otherwise have been the value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country.
This expense, it may be said, indeed, not being in foreign goods, and not occasioning any exportation of gold and silver, the same quantity of money would remain in the country as before. But if the quantity of food and clothing which were thus consumed by unproductive, had been distributed among productive hands, they would have reproduced, together with a profit, the full value of their consumption. The same quantity of money would, in this case, equally have remained in the country, and there would, besides, have been a reproduction of an equal value of consumable goods. There would have been two values instead of one.
The same quantity of money, besides, can not long remain in any country in which the value of the annual produce diminishes. The sole use of money is to circulate consumable goods. By means of it, provisions, materials, and finished work, are bought and sold, and distributed to their proper consumers. The quantity of money, therefore, which can be annually employed in any country, must be determined by the value of the consumable goods annually circulated within it. These must consist, either in the immediate produce of the land and labour of the country itself, or in something which had been purchased with some part of that produce. Their value, therefore, must diminish as the value of that produce diminishes, and along with it the quantity of money which can be employed in circulating them. But the money which, by this annual diminution of produce, is annually thrown out of domestic circulation, will not be allowed to lie idle. The interest of whoever possesses it requires that it should be employed; but having no employment at home, it will, in spite of all laws and prohibitions, be sent abroad, and employed in purchasing consumable goods, which may be of some use at home. Its annual exportation will, in this manner, continue for some time to add something to the annual consumption of the country beyond the value of its own annual produce. What in the days of its prosperity had been saved from that annual produce, and employed in purchasing gold and silver, will contribute, for some little time, to support its consumption in adversity. The exportation of gold and silver is, in this case, not the cause, but the effect of its declension, and may even, for some little time, alleviate the misery of that declension.
The quantity of money, on the contrary, must in every country naturally increase as the value of the annual produce increases. The value of the consumable goods annually circulated within the society being greater, will require a greater quantity of money to circulate them. A part of the increased produce, therefore, will naturally be employed in purchasing, wherever it is to be had, the additional quantity of gold and silver necessary for circulating the rest. The increase of those metals will, in this case, be the effect, not the cause, of the public prosperity. Gold and silver are purchased everywhere in the same manner. The food, clothing, and lodging, the revenue and maintenance, of all those whose labour or stock is employed in bringing them from the mine to the market, is the price paid for them in Peru as well as in England. The country which has this price to pay, will never belong without the quantity of those metals which it has occasion for; and no country will ever long retain a quantity which it has no occasion for.
Whatever, therefore, we may imagine the real wealth and revenue of a country to consist in, whether in the value of the annual produce of its land and labour, as plain reason seems to dictate, or in the quantity of the precious metals which circulate within it, as vulgar prejudices suppose; in either view of the matter, every prodigal appears to be a public enemy, and every frugal man a public benefactor.
The effects of misconduct are often the same as those of prodigality. Every injudicious and unsuccessful project in agriculture, mines, fisheries, trade, or manufactures, tends in the same manner to diminish the funds destined for the maintenance of productive labour. In every such project, though the capital is consumed by productive hands only, yet as, by the injudicious manner in which they are employed, they do not reproduce the full value of their consumption, there must always be some diminution in what would otherwise have been the productive funds of the society.
It can seldom happen, indeed, that the circumstances of a great nation can be much affected either by the prodigality or misconduct of individuals; the profusion or imprudence of some being always more than compensated by the frugality and good conduct of others.
With regard to profusion, the principle which prompts to expense is the passion for present enjoyment; which, though sometimes violent and very difficult to be restrained, is in general only momentary and occasional. But the principle which prompts to save, is the desire of bettering our condition; a desire which, though generally calm and dispassionate, comes with us from the womb, and never leaves us till we go into the grave. In the whole interval which separates those two moments, there is scarce, perhaps, a single instance, in which any man is so perfectly and completely satisfied with his situation, as to be without any wish of alteration or improvement of any kind. An augmentation of fortune is the means by which the greater part of men propose and wish to better their condition. It is the means the most vulgar and the most obvious; and the most likely way of augmenting their fortune, is to save and accumulate some part of what they acquire, either regularly and annually, or upon some extraordinary occasion. Though the principle of expense, therefore, prevails in almost all men upon some occasions, and in some men upon almost all occasions; yet in the greater part of men, taking the whole course of their life at an average, the principle of frugality seems not only to predominate, but to predominate very greatly.
With regard to misconduct, the number of prudent and successful undertakings is everywhere much greater than that of injudicious and unsuccessful ones. After all our complaints of the frequency of bankruptcies, the unhappy men who fall into this misfortune, make but a very small part of the whole number engaged in trade, and all other sorts of business; not much more, perhaps, than one in a thousand. Bankruptcy is, perhaps, the greatest and most humiliating calamity which can befal an innocent man. The greater part of men, therefore, are sufficiently careful to avoid it. Some, indeed, do not avoid it; as some do not avoid the gallows.
Great nations are never impoverished by private, though they sometimes are by public prodigality and misconduct. The whole, or almost the whole public revenue is, in most countries, employed in maintaining unproductive hands. Such are the people who compose a numerous and splendid court, a great ecclesiastical establishment, great fleets and armies, who in time of peace produce nothing, and in time of war acquire nothing which can compensate the expense of maintaining them, even while the war lasts. Such people, as they themselves produce nothing, are all maintained by the produce of other men’s labour. When multiplied, therefore, to an unnecessary number, they may in a particular year consume so great a share of this produce, as not to leave a sufficiency for maintaining the productive labourers, who should reproduce it next year. The next year’s produce, therefore, will be less than that of the foregoing; and if the same disorder should continue, that of the third year will be still less than that of the second. Those unproductive hands who should be maintained by a part only of the spare revenue of the people, may consume so great a share of their whole revenue, and thereby oblige so great a number to encroach upon their capitals, upon the funds destined for the maintenance of productive labour, that all the frugality and good conduct of individuals may not be able to compensate the waste and degradation of produce occasioned by this violent and forced encroachment.
This frugality and good conduct, however, is, upon most occasions, it appears from experience, sufficient to compensate, not only the private prodigality and misconduct of individuals, but the public extravagance of government. The uniform, constant, and uninterrupted effort of every man to better his condition, the principle from which public and national, as well as private opulence is originally derived, is frequently powerful enough to maintain the natural progress of things towards improvement, in spite both of the extravagance of government, and of the greatest errors of administration. Like the unknown principle of animal life, it frequently restores health and vigour to the constitution, in spite not only of the disease, but of the absurd prescriptions of the doctor.
The annual produce of the land and labour of any nation can be increased in its value by no other means, but by increasing either the number of its productive labourers, or the productive powers of those labourers who had before been employed. The number of its productive labourers, it is evident, can never be much increased, but in consequence of an increase of capital, or of the funds destined for maintaining them. The productive powers of the same number of labourers cannot be increased, but in consequence either of some addition and improvement to those machines and instruments which facilitate and abridge labour, or of more proper division and distribution of employment. In either case, an additional capital is almost always required. It is by means of an additional capital only, that the undertaker of any work can either provide his workmen with better machinery, or make a more proper distribution of employment among them. When the work to be done consists of a number of parts, to keep every man constantly employed in one way, requires a much greater capital than where every man is occasionally employed in every different part of the work. When we compare, therefore, the state of a nation at two different periods, and find that the annual produce of its land and labour is evidently greater at the latter than at the former, that its lands are better cultivated, its manufactures more numerous and more flourishing, and its trade more extensive; we may be assured that its capital must have increased during the interval between those two periods, and that more must have been added to it by the good conduct of some, than had been taken from it either by the private misconduct of others, or by the public extravagance of government. But we shall find this to have been the case of almost all nations, in all tolerably quiet and peaceable times, even of those who have not enjoyed the most prudent and parsimonious governments. To form a right judgment of it, indeed, we must compare the state of the country at periods somewhat distant from one another. The progress is frequently so gradual, that, at near periods, the improvement is not only not sensible, but, from the declension either of certain branches of industry, or of certain districts of the country, things which sometimes happen, though the country in general is in great prosperity, there frequently arises a suspicion, that the riches and industry of the whole are decaying.
English
The proportion between capital and revenue, then, seems everywhere to govern the proportion between industry and idleness. Where capital predominates, industry flourishes; where revenue predominates, idleness does. Every increase or decrease in capital therefore tends naturally to increase or decrease the actual amount of industry, the number of productive workers, and consequently the exchangeable value of the annual produce of a country's land and labor—the real wealth and revenue of all its inhabitants.
Capital grows through frugality and shrinks through extravagance and mismanagement.
Whatever a person saves from revenue is added to capital. He either uses it himself to maintain additional productive workers or enables someone else to do so by lending it at interest, that is, for a share of the profits. Just as an individual's capital can grow only through savings from annual revenue or annual gains, so the capital of a society—which is simply the capital of all its members—can grow only in the same way.
Frugality, not industry, is the immediate cause of an increase in capital. Industry supplies what frugality accumulates; but no matter what industry might earn, capital would never grow if frugality did not save and store it up.
By enlarging the fund intended to maintain productive workers, frugality tends to increase the number of workers whose labor adds value to the material on which it is spent. It therefore tends to increase the exchangeable value of the annual produce of the country's land and labor. It sets more industry in motion, adding further value to the annual produce.
What is saved each year is consumed just as regularly as what is spent each year, and in nearly the same time; but it is consumed by different people. The part of his revenue that a rich man spends each year is, in most cases, consumed by idle guests and household servants, who leave nothing in return for what they consume. The part he saves, being promptly employed as capital for the sake of profit, is consumed in the same fashion and nearly the same time, but by laborers, manufacturers, and artisans, who reproduce the value of their annual consumption with a profit. Suppose his revenue is paid in money. Had he spent all of it, the food, clothing, and lodging it could buy would have gone to the former group. By saving part of it, which he or another immediately employs as capital for the sake of profit, he necessarily reserves for the latter group the food, clothing, and lodging that part can buy. Consumption is the same; the consumers are different.
With what he saves each year, a frugal man not only provides for additional productive workers in the following year; like the founder of a public workhouse, he establishes, as it were, a perpetual fund to maintain an equal number for all time. The permanent allocation and purpose of this fund may not be secured by any explicit law, trust right, or deed of mortmain. It is nevertheless always secured by a very powerful principle: the clear and obvious interest of everyone who ever owns any share of it. No part can afterward be used to maintain anyone but productive workers without an obvious loss to the person who diverts it from its proper purpose.
The spendthrift diverts it in precisely this way. By allowing expenses to exceed income, he eats into his capital. Like someone who diverts the revenue of a charitable foundation to irreverent purposes, he pays the wages of idleness out of funds that his forebears' frugality had, as it were, consecrated to maintaining industry. By reducing the funds intended to employ productive labor, he necessarily reduces, so far as it lies within his power, the labor that adds value to its materials and, consequently, the value of the annual produce of the entire country's land and labor—the real wealth and revenue of its inhabitants. If the extravagance of some were not offset by the frugality of others, every spendthrift, feeding the idle with the bread of the industrious, would tend not only to beggar himself but to impoverish his country.
Even if all the spendthrift's expenses went toward domestically made goods, with nothing spent on foreign goods, the effect on society's productive funds would be the same. Every year, some food and clothing that ought to have maintained productive workers would instead maintain unproductive ones. Each year, therefore, there would still be some reduction in the value that the annual produce of the country's land and labor would otherwise have attained.
It may be said that since these expenses are not for foreign goods and cause no export of gold and silver, the same amount of money remains in the country. But had the food and clothing consumed by unproductive workers been distributed among productive ones, those workers would have reproduced the full value of their consumption, together with a profit. The same amount of money would equally have remained in the country, and goods for consumption of equal value would also have been reproduced. There would have been two values instead of one.
Moreover, the same quantity of money cannot remain long in a country where the value of the annual produce is declining. Money's only use is to circulate consumable goods. Through it, provisions, materials, and finished products are bought and sold and distributed to their proper consumers. The amount of money that can be used each year in a country must therefore be determined by the value of the consumable goods circulated there each year. These goods must be either the immediate produce of the country's own land and labor or goods purchased with some portion of that produce. Their value must therefore fall as the value of that produce falls; and with it falls the amount of money that can circulate them. But the money thrown out of domestic circulation each year by this annual decline in produce will not be left idle. Its owner's interest demands that it be employed; finding no employment at home, it will be sent abroad despite every law and prohibition to purchase consumable goods that may be useful at home. For a while, its annual export will thus supplement the country's annual consumption beyond the value of its own annual produce. What was saved from that produce in prosperous days and used to buy gold and silver will help support consumption for a little while in adversity. In this case the export of gold and silver is the effect, not the cause, of decline, and may even ease its hardships for a little while.
Conversely, the amount of money in every country must naturally rise as the value of its annual produce rises. The greater value of the consumable goods circulated each year in society will require more money to circulate them. Part of the increased produce will thus naturally be used to buy, wherever they can be found, the additional gold and silver needed to circulate the rest. An increase in those metals is, in this case, the effect of public prosperity, not its cause. Gold and silver are purchased everywhere in the same way. The food, clothing, lodging, revenue, and maintenance of everyone whose labor or stock brings them from mine to market are the price paid for them in Peru as much as in England. A country able to pay that price will never long be without the amount of those metals it needs; nor will any country long retain an amount it does not need.
Whatever we imagine a country's real wealth and revenue to consist of—whether the value of the annual produce of its land and labor, as plain reason suggests, or the quantity of precious metals circulating within it, as common prejudice supposes—on either account every spendthrift appears a public enemy, and every frugal person a public benefactor.
The effects of mismanagement are often the same as those of extravagance. Every ill-judged, unsuccessful venture in agriculture, mining, fishing, trade, or manufacturing likewise tends to diminish the funds intended to maintain productive labor. Although in each such venture only productive workers consume the capital, their ill-judged employment prevents them from reproducing the full value of what they consume. There must therefore always be some reduction in what would otherwise have been society's productive funds.
It is rare, however, for the circumstances of a great nation to be much affected by the extravagance or mismanagement of individuals: the excess or imprudence of some is always more than offset by the frugality and sound conduct of others.
As for extravagance, the impulse to spend is the passion for present enjoyment. Though sometimes fierce and very hard to restrain, it is generally passing and occasional. But the impulse to save is the desire to improve our condition—a desire that, though generally calm and dispassionate, comes with us from the womb and does not leave us until the grave. In the whole interval between those moments, there is perhaps scarcely a single instance in which anyone is so perfectly satisfied with his circumstances as to wish for no change or improvement whatever. An increase in fortune is the means by which most people plan and hope to improve their condition. It is the most common and obvious means; and the likeliest way to increase one's fortune is to save and accumulate part of one's earnings, either regularly each year or on some extraordinary occasion. Thus although the impulse to spend prevails in almost everyone on some occasions, and in some people on almost every occasion, in most lives, taken as a whole, the impulse to save seems not merely to predominate but to predominate greatly.
As for mismanagement, prudent and successful ventures everywhere far outnumber ill-judged and unsuccessful ones. Despite all our complaints about frequent bankruptcies, the unfortunate people who suffer one form only a very small fraction of everyone engaged in trade and every other kind of business—perhaps not much more than one in a thousand. Bankruptcy is perhaps the greatest and most humiliating calamity that can befall an innocent person. Most people therefore take adequate care to avoid it. Some, to be sure, do not; just as some do not avoid the gallows.
Great nations are never impoverished by private extravagance and mismanagement, though they sometimes are by public extravagance and mismanagement. In most countries all or nearly all public revenue is used to maintain unproductive workers. Among them are the members of a large and splendid court, a great ecclesiastical establishment, and great fleets and armies, who produce nothing in peacetime and in war acquire nothing that can compensate for the expense of maintaining them, even during the war. Producing nothing themselves, they are all maintained by the produce of other people's labor. If their numbers grow beyond necessity, they may consume so much of this produce in a particular year that not enough remains to maintain the productive laborers who should reproduce it the next. The next year's produce will therefore be smaller than the previous year's; and if the same disorder continues, the third year's will be smaller still. These unproductive workers, who should be supported by only part of the people's surplus revenue, may consume such a great share of their entire revenue that many people are forced to eat into their capital, the funds intended to maintain productive labor. All the frugality and sound conduct of individuals may then be unable to offset the waste and deterioration of produce brought about by this violent, forced encroachment.
Experience shows, however, that on most occasions this frugality and sound conduct are sufficient to offset not only individuals' private extravagance and mismanagement but government's public extravagance. Every person's steady, constant, unbroken effort to improve his condition—the original source of public and national wealth as well as private wealth—is often powerful enough to sustain the natural progress toward improvement despite both governmental extravagance and the gravest mistakes in administration. Like the unknown principle of animal life, it often restores health and vigor to the body despite both its illness and the doctor's absurd prescriptions.
The annual produce of a nation's land and labor can rise in value only by increasing either the number of productive laborers or the productive powers of those already employed. Plainly, the number of productive laborers cannot increase much except through an increase in capital, the funds intended to maintain them. Nor can the productive powers of the same number of laborers increase without either additions and improvements to machines and instruments that ease and shorten labor or a better division and distribution of employment. In either case, additional capital is almost always required. Only with additional capital can the manager of any undertaking provide better machinery for his workers or distribute their work more effectively. Where a job has many parts, keeping each worker constantly at one task requires much more capital than having each worker occasionally perform every part. When we compare a nation at two different periods and find its annual produce of land and labor plainly greater in the later one—its land better cultivated, its manufactures more numerous and flourishing, its trade more extensive—we may be sure its capital grew in the interval. The good conduct of some must have added more to it than the private mismanagement of others or the public extravagance of government took away. We will find this true of almost every nation in every reasonably quiet and peaceful period, even those without the most prudent or frugal governments. To judge rightly, however, we must compare periods sufficiently far apart. Progress is often so gradual that over short intervals improvement is imperceptible; and when a particular industry or district declines, as sometimes happens even while the country as a whole is flourishing, people often come to suspect that the nation's wealth and industry are in decline.
Book II, Chapter III, 3
18th-century English
The annual produce of the land and labour of England, for example, is certainly much greater than it was a little more than a century ago, at the restoration of Charles II. Though at present few people, I believe, doubt of this, yet during this period five years have seldom passed away, in which some book or pamphlet has not been published, written, too, with such abilities as to gain some authority with the public, and pretending to demonstrate that the wealth of the nation was fast declining; that the country was depopulated, agriculture neglected, manufactures decaying, and trade undone. Nor have these publications been all party pamphlets, the wretched offspring of falsehood and venality. Many of them have been written by very candid and very intelligent people, who wrote nothing but what they believed, and for no other reason but because they believed it.
The annual produce of the land and labour of England, again, was certainly much greater at the Restoration than we can suppose it to have been about a hundred years before, at the accession of Elizabeth. At this period, too, we have all reason to believe, the country was much more advanced in improvement, than it had been about a century before, towards the close of the dissensions between the houses of York and Lancaster. Even then it was, probably, in a better condition than it had been at the Norman conquest: and at the Norman conquest, than during the confusion of the Saxon heptarchy. Even at this early period, it was certainly a more improved country than at the invasion of Julius Caesar, when its inhabitants were nearly in the same state with the savages in North America.
In each of those periods, however, there was not only much private and public profusion, many expensive and unnecessary wars, great perversion of the annual produce from maintaining productive to maintain unproductive hands; but sometimes, in the confusion of civil discord, such absolute waste and destruction of stock, as might be supposed, not only to retard, as it certainly did, the natural accumulation of riches, but to have left the country, at the end of the period, poorer than at the beginning. Thus, in the happiest and most fortunate period of them all, that which has passed since the Restoration, how many disorders and misfortunes have occurred, which, could they have been foreseen, not only the impoverishment, but the total ruin of the country would have been expected from them? The fire and the plague of London, the two Dutch wars, the disorders of the revolution, the war in Ireland, the four expensive French wars of 1688, 1701, 1742, and 1756, together with the two rebellions of 1715 and 1745. In the course of the four French wars, the nation has contracted more than £145,000,000 of debt, over and above all the other extraordinary annual expense which they occasioned; so that the whole cannot be computed at less than £200,000,000. So great a share of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, has, since the Revolution, been employed upon different occasions, in maintaining an extraordinary number of unproductive hands. But had not those wars given this particular direction to so large a capital, the greater part of it would naturally have been employed in maintaining productive hands, whose labour would have replaced, with a profit, the whole value of their consumption. The value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country would have been considerably increased by it every year, and every years increase would have augmented still more that of the following year. More houses would have been built, more lands would have been improved, and those which had been improved before would have been better cultivated; more manufactures would have been established, and those which had been established before would have been more extended; and to what height the real wealth and revenue of the country might by this time have been raised, it is not perhaps very easy even to imagine.
But though the profusion of government must undoubtedly have retarded the natural progress of England towards wealth and improvement, it has not been able to stop it. The annual produce of its land and labour is undoubtedly much greater at present than it was either at the Restoration or at the Revolution. The capital, therefore, annually employed in cultivating this land, and in maintaining this labour, must likewise be much greater. In the midst of all the exactions of government, this capital has been silently and gradually accumulated by the private frugality and good conduct of individuals, by their universal, continual, and uninterrupted effort to better their own condition. It is this effort, protected by law, and allowed by liberty to exert itself in the manner that is most advantageous, which has maintained the progress of England towards opulence and improvement in almost all former times, and which, it is to be hoped, will do so in all future times. England, however, as it has never been blessed with a very parsimonious government, so parsimony has at no time been the characteristic virtue of its inhabitants. It is the highest impertinence and presumption, therefore, in kings and ministers to pretend to watch over the economy of private people, and to restrain their expense, either by sumptuary laws, or by prohibiting the importation of foreign luxuries. They are themselves always, and without any exception, the greatest spendthrifts in the society. Let them look well after their own expense, and they may safely trust private people with theirs. If their own extravagance does not ruin the state, that of the subject never will.
As frugality increases, and prodigality diminishes, the public capital, so the conduct of those whose expense just equals their revenue, without either accumulating or encroaching, neither increases nor diminishes it. Some modes of expense, however, seem to contribute more to the growth of public opulence than others.
The revenue of an individual may be spent, either in things which are consumed immediately, and in which one day’s expense can neither alleviate nor support that of another; or it may be spent in things mere durable, which can therefore be accumulated, and in which every day’s expense may, as he chooses, either alleviate, or support and heighten, the effect of that of the following day. A man of fortune, for example, may either spend his revenue in a profuse and sumptuous table, and in maintaining a great number of menial servants, and a multitude of dogs and horses; or, contenting himself with a frugal table, and few attendants, he may lay out the greater part of it in adorning his house or his country villa, in useful or ornamental buildings, in useful or ornamental furniture, in collecting books, statues, pictures; or in things more frivolous, jewels, baubles, ingenious trinkets of different kinds; or, what is most trifling of all, in amassing a great wardrobe of fine clothes, like the favourite and minister of a great prince who died a few years ago. Were two men of equal fortune to spend their revenue, the one chiefly in the one way, the other in the other, the magnificence of the person whose expense had been chiefly in durable commodities, would be continually increasing, every day’s expense contributing something to support and heighten the effect of that of the following day; that of the other, on the contrary, would be no greater at the end of the period than at the beginning. The former too would, at the end of the period, be the richer man of the two. He would have a stock of goods of some kind or other, which, though it might not be worth all that it cost, would always be worth something. No trace or vestige of the expense of the latter would remain, and the effects of ten or twenty years’ profusion would be as completely annihilated as if they had never existed.
As the one mode of expense is more favourable than the other to the opulence of an individual, so is it likewise to that of a nation. The houses, the furniture, the clothing of the rich, in a little time, become useful to the inferior and middling ranks of people. They are able to purchase them when their superiors grow weary of them; and the general accommodation of the whole people is thus gradually improved, when this mode of expense becomes universal among men of fortune. In countries which have long been rich, you will frequently find the inferior ranks of people in possession both of houses and furniture perfectly good and entire, but of which neither the one could have been built, nor the other have been made for their use. What was formerly a seat of the family of Seymour, is now an inn upon the Bath road. The marriage-bed of James I. of Great Britain, which his queen brought with her from Denmark, as a present fit for a sovereign to make to a sovereign, was, a few years ago, the ornament of an alehouse at Dunfermline. In some ancient cities, which either have been long stationary, or have gone somewhat to decay, you will sometimes scarce find a single house which could have been built for its present inhabitants. If you go into those houses, too, you will frequently find many excellent, though antiquated pieces of furniture, which are still very fit for use, and which could as little have been made for them. Noble palaces, magnificent villas, great collections of books, statues, pictures, and other curiosities, are frequently both an ornament and an honour, not only to the neighbourhood, but to the whole country to which they belong. Versailles is an ornament and an honour to France, Stowe and Wilton to England. Italy still continues to command some sort of veneration, by the number of monuments of this kind which it possesses, though the wealth which produced them has decayed, and though the genius which planned them seems to be extinguished, perhaps from not having the same employment.
The expense, too, which is laid out in durable commodities, is favourable not only to accumulation, but to frugality. If a person should at any time exceed in it, he can easily reform without exposing himself to the censure of the public. To reduce very much the number of his servants, to reform his table from great profusion to great frugality, to lay down his equipage after he has once set it up, are changes which cannot escape the observation of his neighbours, and which are supposed to imply some acknowledgment of preceding bad conduct. Few, therefore, of those who have once been so unfortunate as to launch out too far into this sort of expense, have afterwards the courage to reform, till ruin and bankruptcy oblige them. But if a person has, at any time, been at too great an expense in building, in furniture, in books, or pictures, no imprudence can be inferred from his changing his conduct. These are things in which further expense is frequently rendered unnecessary by former expense; and when a person stops short, he appears to do so, not because he has exceeded his fortune, but because he has satisfied his fancy.
The expense, besides, that is laid out in durable commodities, gives maintenance, commonly, to a greater number of people than that which is employed in the most profuse hospitality. Of two or three hundred weight of provisions, which may sometimes be served up at a great festival, one half, perhaps, is thrown to the dunghill, and there is always a great deal wasted and abused. But if the expense of this entertainment had been employed in setting to work masons, carpenters, upholsterers, mechanics, etc. a quantity of provisions of equal value would have been distributed among a still greater number of people, who would have bought them in pennyworths and pound weights, and not have lost or thrown away a single ounce of them. In the one way, besides, this expense maintains productive, in the other unproductive hands. In the one way, therefore, it increases, in the other it does not increase the exchangeable value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country.
I would not, however, by all this, be understood to mean, that the one species of expense always betokens a more liberal or generous spirit than the other. When a man of fortune spends his revenue chiefly in hospitality, he shares the greater part of it with his friends and companions; but when he employs it in purchasing such durable commodities, he often spends the whole upon his own person, and gives nothing to any body without an equivalent. The latter species of expense, therefore, especially when directed towards frivolous objects, the little ornaments of dress and furniture, jewels, trinkets, gew-gaws, frequently indicates, not only a trifling, but a base and selfish disposition. All that I mean is, that the one sort of expense, as it always occasions some accumulation of valuable commodities, as it is more favourable to private frugality, and, consequently, to the increase of the public capital, and as it maintains productive rather than unproductive hands, conduces more than the other to the growth of public opulence.
English
The annual produce of England's land and labor, for example, is certainly much greater than it was a little more than a century ago, at the restoration of Charles II. Few people today, I believe, doubt this. Yet during that period scarcely five years have passed without the publication of a book or pamphlet, often written with enough skill to gain some authority with the public, professing to demonstrate that the nation's wealth was rapidly declining: that the country was losing its people, agriculture was neglected, manufactures were decaying, and trade was ruined. Nor were all these publications partisan pamphlets, miserable offspring of dishonesty and corruption. Many were written by thoroughly candid and intelligent people, who wrote only what they believed, and only because they believed it.
England's annual produce of land and labor was likewise certainly much greater at the Restoration than we can suppose it was about a hundred years earlier, at Elizabeth's accession. At that time, too, there is every reason to believe that the country had advanced much further than it had about a century before, toward the end of the disputes between the houses of York and Lancaster. Even then it was probably better off than at the Norman conquest; and at the Norman conquest, better off than amid the confusion of the Saxon heptarchy. Even in that early period it was certainly a more developed country than at the invasion of Julius Caesar, when its inhabitants lived in nearly the same condition as the Indigenous peoples of North America.
In each of these periods, however, there was much private and public extravagance, many costly and needless wars, and a large diversion of annual produce from the support of productive workers to that of unproductive ones. At times, amid the turmoil of civil conflict, there was such outright waste and destruction of stock that one might suppose it not only impeded the natural accumulation of wealth, as it certainly did, but left the country poorer at the end of a period than at its beginning. Even in the happiest and most fortunate period of all, the one since the Restoration, how many disorders and disasters have occurred that, had they been foreseen, would have been expected to bring not just poverty but utter ruin upon the country? The fire and plague of London, the two Dutch wars, the disorders of the Revolution, the war in Ireland, the four costly French wars of 1688, 1701, 1742, and 1756, together with the two rebellions of 1715 and 1745. During the four French wars, the nation incurred more than £145,000,000 in debt, besides all the other extraordinary annual expenses they caused; their total cost therefore cannot be put at less than £200,000,000. Since the Revolution, so great a share of the annual produce of the country's land and labor has at various times gone to maintain an extraordinary number of unproductive workers. But had those wars not directed so much capital toward that end, most of it would naturally have maintained productive workers whose labor would have replaced, with a profit, the entire value of what they consumed. The value of the country's annual produce of land and labor would have increased considerably each year, and each year's increase would have increased the next year's still more. More houses would have been built, more land improved, previously improved land better cultivated; more manufactures would have been established, existing ones expanded. It is perhaps difficult even to imagine the height to which the country's real wealth and revenue might by now have risen.
Yet though government extravagance has undoubtedly slowed England's natural progress toward wealth and improvement, it has not stopped it. The annual produce of its land and labor is undoubtedly much greater now than at either the Restoration or the Revolution. The capital used each year to cultivate that land and maintain that labor must therefore be much greater too. Amid all the government's exactions, this capital has been silently and gradually amassed by the private frugality and sound conduct of individuals, by their universal, continual, unbroken effort to improve their condition. It is this effort—protected by law and free to act in the most advantageous way—that has sustained England's progress toward wealth and improvement through almost all past ages, and may, we hope, continue to do so in the future. England, however, has never been blessed with a particularly frugal government, nor has frugality ever been the distinctive virtue of its inhabitants. For kings and ministers to presume to supervise the household finances of private people, restraining their expenses through sumptuary laws or bans on imported luxuries, is therefore the height of impertinence. They themselves are invariably the greatest spendthrifts in society. Let them take proper care of their own expenses; they may safely leave private people to take care of theirs. If their own extravagance does not ruin the state, their subjects' never will.
Just as frugality increases public capital and extravagance diminishes it, the conduct of people whose expenses precisely equal their revenue, neither accumulating capital nor drawing on it, neither increases nor diminishes that capital. Some forms of spending, however, appear to contribute more to the growth of public wealth than others.
A person's revenue may be spent on things consumed immediately, so that one day's spending can neither lighten nor reinforce another's; or it may be spent on more durable things, which can accumulate, and whose purchase on one day may, as he chooses, either lighten, sustain, or heighten the effect of spending on the next. A wealthy man, for instance, may spend his revenue on a lavish table, a great many household servants, and crowds of dogs and horses. Or, content with modest meals and few attendants, he may spend most of it on decorating his house or country villa; on useful or ornamental buildings and furnishings; on collections of books, statues, and paintings; on more frivolous things, such as jewels, baubles, and ingenious trinkets of various kinds; or, most frivolous of all, on a huge wardrobe of fine clothes, like the favorite and minister of a great prince who died a few years ago. Suppose two men of equal fortune spent their revenues chiefly in these different ways. The splendor of the man who spent mostly on durable goods would continually grow, as each day's spending helped sustain and heighten the effect of the next day's; the other's splendor, by contrast, would be no greater at the end of the period than at its beginning. At the end, the first man would also be the richer of the two. He would own a stock of goods of some kind which, though perhaps not worth all it cost, would always be worth something. No trace of the other's expenditure would remain: the effects of ten or twenty years of lavish spending would vanish as completely as if they had never existed.
The form of spending that benefits an individual's wealth more also benefits a nation's. The houses, furniture, and clothing of the wealthy soon become useful to people of lower and middle rank. When their social superiors tire of these possessions, others can buy them, and as this way of spending becomes widespread among the wealthy, the comfort of the people as a whole gradually improves. In countries long rich, one often finds people of lower rank in possession of perfectly sound houses and furniture, though neither the houses could have been built nor the furniture made for their use. What was once a residence of the Seymour family is now an inn on the Bath road. The marriage bed of James I. of Great Britain, brought to him from Denmark by his queen as a gift worthy of one sovereign to another, adorned an alehouse at Dunfermline a few years ago. In some old cities that have long stood still or declined somewhat, one can sometimes scarcely find a single house that could have been built for its present residents. Inside those houses one will also often find excellent, though old-fashioned, pieces of furniture, still perfectly serviceable, that could no more have been made for them. Noble palaces, magnificent villas, great collections of books, statues, paintings, and other curiosities often bring beauty and honor not just to their neighborhoods but to their entire countries. Versailles brings beauty and honor to France, Stowe and Wilton to England. Italy still commands a certain reverence through its many monuments of this kind, though the wealth that produced them has declined, and the genius that designed them seems to have died out, perhaps for want of the same occupation.
Spending on durable goods also favors not only accumulation but frugality. If someone spends too much on them at any point, he can easily change course without incurring public censure. A sharp reduction in servants, a change from a lavish table to a frugal one, or the abandonment of a carriage once established cannot escape the notice of neighbors, who assume such changes acknowledge earlier misbehavior. Few who have had the misfortune to go too far in spending of this kind therefore have the courage to correct themselves until ruin and bankruptcy force them to. But if someone has spent too much on building, furniture, books, or paintings, no one can infer imprudence when he changes course. Earlier expenditure often makes further expenditure on these things unnecessary; when he stops, it appears not that he has outrun his fortune but that he has satisfied his taste.
Moreover, spending on durable goods generally maintains more people than the most lavish hospitality. Of the two or three hundred weight of provisions sometimes served at a great feast, perhaps half is thrown on the dung heap, and much is always wasted and misused. But if the cost of that entertainment had instead gone to employ masons, carpenters, upholsterers, mechanics, etc., provisions of equal value would have been distributed among a still larger number of people. They would have bought them a penny's worth or a pound's weight at a time, without wasting or discarding a single ounce. Moreover, the spending in one case maintains productive workers, in the other unproductive ones. In one case, therefore, it increases the exchangeable value of the annual produce of the country's land and labor; in the other, it does not.
I do not, however, mean to suggest by any of this that one form of spending always shows a more generous or open spirit than the other. When a wealthy man spends his revenue chiefly on hospitality, he shares most of it with his friends and companions. When he buys durable goods, he often spends it all on himself and gives nothing to anyone without receiving something in return. This latter form of spending, especially when directed toward frivolous objects—the little ornaments of dress and furniture, jewels, trinkets, and gewgaws—often reveals not merely a shallow disposition but a mean and selfish one. All I mean is that this form, because it always brings about some accumulation of valuable goods, favors private frugality and therefore an increase in public capital, and maintains productive rather than unproductive workers, does more than the other to promote the growth of public wealth.
Book II, Chapter IV, 1
18th-century English
OF STOCK LENT AT INTEREST.
The stock which is lent at interest is always considered as a capital by the lender. He expects that in due time it is to be restored to him, and that, in the mean time, the borrower is to pay him a certain annual rent for the use of it. The borrower may use it either as a capital, or as a stock reserved for immediate consumption. If he uses it as a capital, he employs it in the maintenance of productive labourers, who reproduce the value, with a profit. He can, in this case, both restore the capital, and pay the interest, without alienating or encroaching upon any other source of revenue. If he uses it as a stock reserved for immediate consumption, he acts the part of a prodigal, and dissipates, in the maintenance of the idle, what was destined for the support of the industrious. He can, in this case, neither restore the capital nor pay the interest, without either alienating or encroaching upon some other source of revenue, such as the property or the rent of land.
The stock which is lent at interest is, no doubt, occasionally employed in both these ways, but in the former much more frequently than in the latter. The man who borrows in order to spend will soon be ruined, and he who lends to him will generally have occasion to repent of his folly. To borrow or to lend for such a purpose, therefore, is, in all cases, where gross usury is out of the question, contrary to the interest of both parties; and though it no doubt happens sometimes, that people do both the one and the other, yet, from the regard that all men have for their own interest, we may be assured, that it cannot happen so very frequently as we are sometimes apt to imagine. Ask any rich man of common prudence, to which of the two sorts of people he has lent the greater part of his stock, to those who he thinks will employ it profitably, or to those who will spend it idly, and he will laugh at you for proposing the question. Even among borrowers, therefore, not the people in the world most famous for frugality, the number of the frugal and industrious surpasses considerably that of the prodigal and idle.
The only people to whom stock is commonly lent, without their being expected to make any very profitable use of it, are country gentlemen, who borrow upon mortgage. Even they scarce ever borrow merely to spend. What they borrow, one may say, is commonly spent before they borrow it. They have generally consumed so great a quantity of goods, advanced to them upon credit by shop-keepers and tradesmen, that they find it necessary to borrow at interest, in order to pay the debt. The capital borrowed replaces the capitals of those shop-keepers and tradesmen which the country gentlemen could not have replaced from the rents of their estates. It is not properly borrowed in order to be spent, but in order to replace a capital which had been spent before.
Almost all loans at interest are made in money, either of paper, or of gold and silver; but what the borrower really wants, and what the lender readily supplies him with, is not the money, but the money’s worth, or the goods which it can purchase. If he wants it as a stock for immediate consumption, it is those goods only which he can place in that stock. If he wants it as a capital for employing industry, it is from those goods only that the industrious can be furnished with the tools, materials, and maintenance necessary for carrying on their work. By means of the loan, the lender, as it were, assigns to the borrower his right to a certain portion of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, to be employed as the borrower pleases.
The quantity of stock, therefore, or, as it is commonly expressed, of money, which can be lent at interest in any country, is not regulated by the value of the money, whether paper or coin, which serves as the instrument of the different loans made in that country, but by the value of that part of the annual produce, which, as soon as it comes either from the ground, or from the hands of the productive labourers, is destined, not only for replacing a capital, but such a capital as the owner does not care to be at the trouble of employing himself. As such capitals are commonly lent out and paid back in money, they constitute what is called the monied interest. It is distinct, not only from the landed, but from the trading and manufacturing interests, as in these last the owners themselves employ their own capitals. Even in the monied interest, however, the money is, as it were, but the deed of assignment, which conveys from one hand to another those capitals which the owners do not care to employ themselves. Those capitals may be greater, in almost any proportion, than the amount of the money which serves as the instrument of their conveyance; the same pieces of money successively serving for many different loans, as well as for many different purchases. A, for example, lends to W £1000, with which W immediately purchases of B £1000 worth of goods. B having no occasion for the money himself, lends the identical pieces to X, with which X immediately purchases of C another £1000 worth of goods. C, in the same manner, and for the same reason, lends them to Y, who again purchases goods with them of D. In this manner, the same pieces, either of coin or of paper, may, in the course of a few days, serve as the Instrument of three different loans, and of three different purchases, each of which is, in value, equal to the whole amount of those pieces. What the three monied men, A, B, and C, assigned to the three borrowers, W, X, and Y, is the power of making those purchases. In this power consist both the value and the use of the loans. The stock lent by the three monied men is equal to the value of the goods which can be purchased with it, and is three times greater than that of the money with which the purchases are made. Those loans, however, may be all perfectly well secured, the goods purchased by the different debtors being so employed as, in due time, to bring back, with a profit, an equal value either of coin or of paper. And as the same pieces of money can thus serve as the instrument of different loans to three, or, for the same reason, to thirty times their value, so they may likewise successively serve as the instrument of repayment.
A capital lent at interest may, in this manner, be considered as an assignment, from the lender to the borrower, of a certain considerable portion of the annual produce, upon condition that the burrower in return shall, during the continuance of the loan, annually assign to the lender a small portion, called the interest; and, at the end of it, a portion equally considerable with that which had originally been assigned to him, called the repayment. Though money, either coin or paper, serves generally as the deed of assignment, both to the smaller and to the more considerable portion, it is itself altogether different from what is assigned by it.
In proportion as that share of the annual produce which, as soon as it comes either from the ground, or from the hands of the productive labourers, is destined for replacing a capital, increases in any country, what is called the monied interest naturally increases with it. The increase of those particular capitals from which the owners wish to derive a revenue, without being at the trouble of employing them themselves, naturally accompanies the general increase of capitals; or, in other words, as stock increases, the quantity of stock to be lent at interest grows gradually greater and greater.
As the quantity of stock to be lent at interest increases, the interest, or the price which must be paid for the use of that stock, necessarily diminishes, not only from those general causes which make the market price of things commonly diminish as their quantity increases, but from other causes which are peculiar to this particular case. As capitals increase in any country, the profits which can be made by employing them necessarily diminish. It becomes gradually more and more difficult to find within the country a profitable method of employing any new capital. There arises, in consequence, a competition between different capitals, the owner of one endeavouring to get possession of that employment which is occupied by another; but, upon most occasions, he can hope to justle that other out of this employment by no other means but by dealing upon more reasonable terms. He must not only sell what he deals in somewhat cheaper, but, in order to get it to sell, he must sometimes, too, buy it dearer. The demand for productive labour, by the increase of the funds which are destined for maintaining it, grows every day greater and greater. Labourers easily find employment; but the owners of capitals find it difficult to get labourers to employ. Their competition raises the wages of labour, and sinks the profits of stock. But when the profits which can be made by the use of a capital are in this manner diminished, as it were, at both ends, the price which can be paid for the use of it, that is, the rate of interest, must necessarily be diminished with them.
Mr Locke, Mr Lawe, and Mr Montesquieu, as well as many other writers, seem to have imagined that the increase of the quantity of gold and silver, in consequence of the discovery of the Spanish West Indies, was the real cause of the lowering of the rate of interest through the greater part of Europe. Those metals, they say, having become of less value themselves, the use of any particular portion of them necessarily became of less value too, and, consequently, the price which could be paid for it. This notion, which at first sight seems so plausible, has been so fully exposed by Mr Hume, that it is, perhaps, unnecessary to say any thing more about it. The following very short and plain argument, however, may serve to explain more distinctly the fallacy which seems to have misled those gentlemen.
English
On Stock Lent at Interest.
Stock lent at interest is always regarded as capital by the lender. He expects it to be returned in due course and, meanwhile, expects the borrower to pay him a certain annual rent for its use. The borrower may use it either as capital or as stock reserved for immediate consumption. If he uses it as capital, he employs it to maintain productive laborers, who reproduce its value with a profit. He can then both return the capital and pay the interest without selling or drawing on any other source of revenue. If he uses it as stock for immediate consumption, he plays the spendthrift, squandering on the maintenance of the idle what was intended to support the industrious. He can then neither return the capital nor pay the interest without selling or drawing on some other source of revenue, such as property or rent from land.
Stock lent at interest is undoubtedly sometimes employed in each way, but far more often in the former than in the latter. Someone who borrows to spend will soon be ruined, and anyone who lends to him will generally regret his folly. Borrowing or lending for this purpose, then, is contrary to both parties' interests whenever gross usury is not involved. And though people undoubtedly sometimes do both, their concern for their own interest assures us that it cannot happen nearly so often as we tend to imagine. Ask any rich man of ordinary prudence whether he has lent most of his stock to people he believes will employ it profitably or to those who will spend it idly, and he will laugh at the question. Thus even among borrowers, who are not the people most renowned for frugality, the frugal and industrious considerably outnumber the extravagant and idle.
The only people commonly lent stock without any expectation that they will use it very profitably are country gentlemen borrowing on mortgages. Even they scarcely ever borrow simply to spend. What they borrow, one might say, they have generally spent already. They have usually consumed so many goods supplied on credit by shopkeepers and tradesmen that they must borrow at interest to pay the debt. The borrowed capital replaces the capital of those shopkeepers and tradesmen which the country gentlemen could not replace out of their estates' rents. Strictly speaking, it is borrowed not to be spent but to replace capital spent earlier.
Nearly all interest-bearing loans are made in money, whether paper or gold and silver. But what the borrower really wants, and the lender readily gives him, is not the money but its purchasing power—the goods it can buy. If he wants a stock for immediate consumption, only those goods can fill it. If he wants capital with which to employ industry, only those goods can provide industrious workers with the tools, materials, and maintenance they need to carry on their work. By lending, the lender in effect assigns the borrower his right to a certain part of the country's annual produce of land and labor, for the borrower to use as he sees fit.
The amount of stock—or, as it is commonly called, money—that can be lent at interest in any country is therefore determined not by the value of the money, whether paper or coin, that serves as the instrument of its various loans, but by the value of that part of the annual produce which, as soon as it emerges from the ground or from productive laborers' hands, is destined to replace capital, and specifically capital its owner does not wish to trouble himself to employ. Because these capitals are usually lent and repaid in money, they make up what is called the moneyed interest. It is distinct from the landed interest and also from the trading and manufacturing interests, in which owners employ their own capital. Even for the moneyed interest, however, money is only, as it were, a deed of assignment conveying between people the capital that its owners do not wish to employ themselves. That capital may be almost any multiple of the amount of money that conveys it, since the same pieces of money serve successively for many loans and many purchases. A, for example, lends W £1000, with which W immediately buys £1000 worth of goods from B. B, having no need of the money himself, lends those very pieces to X, who immediately buys another £1000 worth of goods from C. C likewise, for the same reason, lends them to Y, who buys goods with them from D. In a few days the same pieces of coin or paper can thus serve as the instrument of three separate loans and three separate purchases, each worth the full amount of those pieces. What the three moneyed men, A, B, and C, assigned to the three borrowers, W, X, and Y, was the power to make those purchases. That power is both the value and the use of the loans. The stock lent by the three moneyed men equals the value of the goods purchasable with it, and is three times the value of the money used to make the purchases. All those loans may nevertheless be perfectly secure if the different debtors employ the goods they buy so that, in due course, an equal value of coin or paper returns with a profit. And just as the same pieces of money can serve as instruments of different loans for three times—or, by the same reasoning, thirty times—their value, so they can successively serve as instruments of repayment.
Capital lent at interest may thus be seen as the lender's assignment to the borrower of a substantial portion of the annual produce, on condition that the borrower, in return, assigns the lender a small portion each year while the loan lasts, called interest, and at its end a portion as substantial as the one originally assigned to him, called repayment. Though money, coin or paper, usually serves as the deed of assignment for both the smaller and the larger portion, it is entirely distinct from what the assignment conveys.
As the share of a country's annual produce that is destined to replace capital immediately on emerging from the ground or from productive laborers' hands increases, the moneyed interest naturally increases with it. The growth of those particular capitals from which their owners seek revenue without the trouble of employing them themselves naturally accompanies the general growth of capital. In other words, as stock grows, the stock available for lending at interest grows steadily greater.
As the stock available for lending at interest grows, interest—the price paid for its use—necessarily falls. This happens not only through the general causes that normally lower the market price of things as their quantity increases, but also through causes specific to this case. As a country's capital grows, the profits obtainable from employing it necessarily decline. It becomes progressively harder to find a profitable domestic use for any new capital. Competition consequently arises among different capitals, as one owner tries to take over a line of employment occupied by another. Usually his only hope of displacing the other is to offer more favorable terms. He must not only sell his goods somewhat cheaper but sometimes buy them dearer in order to have them to sell. As the funds destined to maintain productive labor grow, demand for that labor grows greater every day. Laborers easily find jobs; owners of capital struggle to find laborers to hire. Their competition raises wages and lowers the profits of stock. And when profits from using capital are thus diminished, as it were, at both ends, the price one can pay to use it—that is, the rate of interest—must necessarily decline as well.
Mr Locke, Mr Lawe, and Mr Montesquieu, like many other writers, appear to have thought that the increase in gold and silver after the discovery of the Spanish West Indies was the true cause of the falling rate of interest across most of Europe. Those metals, they say, had become less valuable themselves; using a given amount of them must therefore have become less valuable too, and the price payable for their use must have fallen. Mr Hume has so thoroughly exposed this seemingly plausible idea that perhaps nothing further need be said about it. Yet the following very short and simple argument may make clearer the fallacy that seems to have misled those gentlemen.
Book II, Chapter IV, 2
18th-century English
Before the discovery of the Spanish West Indies, ten per cent. seems to have been the common rate of interest through the greater part of Europe. It has since that time, in different countries, sunk to six, five, four, and three per cent. Let us suppose, that in every particular country the value of silver has sunk precisely in the same proportion as the rate of interest; and that in those countries, for example, where interest has been reduced from ten to five per cent. the same quantity of silver can now purchase just half the quantity of goods which it could have purchased before. This supposition will not, I believe, be found anywhere agreeable to the truth; but it is the most favourable to the opinion which we are going to examine; and, even upon this supposition, it is utterly impossible that the lowering of the value of silver could have the smallest tendency to lower the rate of interest. If £100 are in those countries now of no more value than £50 were then, £10 must now be of no more value than £5 were then. Whatever were the causes which lowered the value of the capital, the same must necessarily have lowered that of the interest, and exactly in the same proportion. The proportion between the value of the capital and that of the interest must have remained the same, though the rate had never been altered. By altering the rate, on the contrary, the proportion between those two values is necessarily altered. If £100 now are worth no more than £50 were then, £5 now can be worth no more than £2:10s. were then. By reducing the rate of interest, therefore, from ten to five per cent. we give for the use of a capital, which is supposed to be equal to one half of its former value, an interest which is equal to one fourth only of the value of the former interest.
An increase in the quantity of silver, while that of the commodities circulated by means of it remained the same, could have no other effect than to diminish the value of that metal. The nominal value of all sorts of goods would be greater, but their real value would be precisely the same as before. They would be exchanged for a greater number of pieces of silver; but the quantity of labour which they could command, the number of people whom they could maintain and employ, would be precisely the same. The capital of the country would be the same, though a greater number of pieces might be requisite for conveying any equal portion of it from one hand to another. The deeds of assignment, like the conveyances of a verbose attorney, would be more cumbersome; but the thing assigned would be precisely the same as before, and could produce only the same effects. The funds for maintaining productive labour being the same, the demand for it would be the same. Its price or wages, therefore, though nominally greater, would really be the same. They would be paid in a greater number of pieces of silver, but they would purchase only the same quantity of goods. The profits of stock would be the same, both nominally and really. The wages of labour are commonly computed by the quantity of silver which is paid to the labourer. When that is increased, therefore, his wages appear to be increased, though they may sometimes be no greater than before. But the profits of stock are not computed by the number of pieces of silver with which they are paid, but by the proportion which those pieces bear to the whole capital employed. Thus, in a particular country, 5s. a-week are said to be the common wages of labour, and ten per cent. the common profits of stock; but the whole capital of the country being the same as before, the competition between the different capitals of individuals into which it was divided would likewise be the same. They would all trade with the same advantages and disadvantages. The common proportion between capital and profit, therefore, would be the same, and consequently the common interest of money; what can commonly be given for the use of money being necessarily regulated by what can commonly be made by the use of it.
Any increase in the quantity of commodities annually circulated within the country, while that of the money which circulated them remained the same, would, on the contrary, produce many other important effects, besides that of raising the value of the money. The capital of the country, though it might nominally be the same, would really be augmented. It might continue to be expressed by the same quantity of money, but it would command a greater quantity of labour. The quantity of productive labour which it could maintain and employ would be increased, and consequently the demand for that labour. Its wages would naturally rise with the demand, and yet might appear to sink. They might be paid with a smaller quantity of money, but that smaller quantity might purchase a greater quantity of goods than a greater had done before. The profits of stock would be diminished, both really and in appearance. The whole capital of the country being augmented, the competition between the different capitals of which it was composed would naturally be augmented along with it. The owners of those particular capitals would be obliged to content themselves with a smaller proportion of the produce of that labour which their respective capitals employed. The interest of money, keeping pace always with the profits of stock, might, in this manner, be greatly diminished, though the value of money, or the quantity of goods which any particular sum could purchase, was greatly augmented.
In some countries the interest of money has been prohibited by law. But as something can everywhere be made by the use of money, something ought everywhere to be paid for the use of it. This regulation, instead of preventing, has been found from experience to increase the evil of usury. The debtor being obliged to pay, not only for the use of the money, but for the risk which his creditor runs by accepting a compensation for that use, he is obliged, if one may say so, to insure his creditor from the penalties of usury.
In countries where interest is permitted, the law in order to prevent the extortion of usury, generally fixes the highest rate which can be taken without incurring a penalty. This rate ought always to be somewhat above the lowest market price, or the price which is commonly paid for the use of money by those who can give the most undoubted security. If this legal rate should be fixed below the lowest market rate, the effects of this fixation must be nearly the same as those of a total prohibition of interest. The creditor will not lend his money for less than the use of it is worth, and the debtor must pay him for the risk which he runs by accepting the full value of that use. If it is fixed precisely at the lowest market price, it ruins, with honest people who respect the laws of their country, the credit of all those who cannot give the very best security, and obliges them to have recourse to exorbitant usurers. In a country such as Great Britain, where money is lent to government at three per cent. and to private people, upon good security, at four and four and a-half, the present legal rate, five per cent. is perhaps as proper as any.
The legal rate, it is to be observed, though it ought to be somewhat above, ought not to be much above the lowest market rate. If the legal rate of interest in Great Britain, for example, was fixed so high as eight or ten per cent. the greater part of the money which was to be lent, would be lent to prodigals and projectors, who alone would be willing to give this high interest. Sober people, who will give for the use of money no more than a part of what they are likely to make by the use of it, would not venture into the competition. A great part of the capital of the country would thus be kept out of the hands which were most likely to make a profitable and advantageous use of it, and thrown into those which were most likely to waste and destroy it. Where the legal rate of interest, on the contrary, is fixed but a very little above the lowest market rate, sober people are universally preferred, as borrowers, to prodigals and projectors. The person who lends money gets nearly as much interest from the former as he dares to take from the latter, and his money is much safer in the hands of the one set of people than in those of the other. A great part of the capital of the country is thus thrown into the hands in which it is most likely to be employed with advantage.
No law can reduce the common rate of interest below the lowest ordinary market rate at the time when that law is made. Notwithstanding the edict of 1766, by which the French king attempted to reduce the rate of interest from five to four per cent. money continued to be lent in France at five per cent. the law being evaded in several different ways.
The ordinary market price of land, it is to be observed, depends everywhere upon the ordinary market rate of interest. The person who has a capital from which he wishes to derive a revenue, without taking the trouble to employ it himself, deliberates whether he should buy land with it, or lend it out at interest. The superior security of land, together with some other advantages which almost everywhere attend upon this species of property, will generally dispose him to content himself with a smaller revenue from land, than what he might have by lending out his money at interest. These advantages are sufficient to compensate a certain difference of revenue; but they will compensate a certain difference only; and if the rent of land should fall short of the interest of money by a greater difference, nobody would buy land, which would soon reduce its ordinary price. On the contrary, if the advantages should much more than compensate the difference, everybody would buy land, which again would soon raise its ordinary price. When interest was at ten per cent. land was commonly sold for ten or twelve years purchase. As interest sunk to six, five, and four per cent. the price of land rose to twenty, five-and-twenty, and thirty years purchase. The market rate of interest is higher in France than in England, and the common price of land is lower. In England it commonly sells at thirty, in France at twenty years purchase.
English
Before the discovery of the Spanish West Indies, ten percent seems to have been the usual rate of interest through most of Europe. Since then it has fallen, in different countries, to six, five, four, and three percent. Suppose that in each country the value of silver has fallen in exactly the same proportion as the rate of interest; suppose, for example, that where interest fell from ten to five percent, the same quantity of silver now buys just half as many goods as it once did. I do not believe this supposition holds true anywhere, but it is the one most favorable to the view we are examining. Even on this supposition, a decline in the value of silver could not possibly have the slightest tendency to lower the rate of interest. If £100 in those countries is worth no more now than £50 was then, £10 now must be worth no more than £5 was then. Whatever causes reduced the value of the capital must necessarily have reduced the value of the interest in exactly the same proportion. The ratio between the value of the capital and that of the interest would have remained the same, even if the rate had never changed. Changing the rate, on the contrary, necessarily changes the ratio between those two values. If £100 now is worth no more than £50 was then, £5 now can be worth no more than £2:10s. was then. By reducing the rate of interest from ten to five percent, therefore, we pay, for the use of a capital supposedly worth half its former value, interest worth only a fourth of the former interest.
An increase in the quantity of silver, while the quantity of commodities it circulates remains the same, could have no effect other than to diminish the metal’s value. The nominal value of all kinds of goods would rise, but their real value would remain precisely what it was. They would exchange for more pieces of silver, but the quantity of labor they could command, and the number of people they could maintain and employ, would be exactly the same. The country’s capital would be the same, though more pieces might be needed to transfer any given portion of it from one hand to another. The deeds of assignment, like a long-winded attorney’s conveyances, would be more cumbersome; but the thing assigned would be precisely what it had been, and could produce only the same effects. Since the funds for maintaining productive labor would remain the same, so would the demand for it. Its price, or wages, though nominally higher, would therefore be the same in real terms. Wages would be paid in more pieces of silver, but would purchase only the same quantity of goods. The profits of stock would remain the same, nominally as well as really. The wages of labor are commonly calculated by the quantity of silver paid to the laborer. When that quantity rises, his wages appear to rise, even though they may sometimes be no greater than before. But the profits of stock are calculated not by the number of silver pieces in which they are paid, but by the ratio those pieces bear to the entire capital employed. Thus, in a particular country, 5s. a week might be called the ordinary wages of labor, and ten percent the ordinary profits of stock. Yet with the country’s total capital unchanged, competition among the individual capitals into which it is divided would also remain unchanged. All would trade with the same advantages and disadvantages. The usual ratio of capital to profit would therefore remain the same, and so, consequently, would the ordinary interest on money: what one can ordinarily pay for the use of money is necessarily governed by what one can ordinarily earn by using it.
An increase in the quantity of commodities circulated annually within the country, while the quantity of money circulating them remained the same, would, by contrast, have many important effects besides raising the value of money. The country’s capital, though nominally perhaps the same, would really have grown. It might still be expressed as the same quantity of money, but it would command more labor. It could maintain and employ more productive labor, and demand for that labor would consequently increase. Its wages would naturally rise with demand, yet might appear to fall. They might be paid in less money, while that smaller sum bought more goods than the larger sum had bought before. The profits of stock would fall, both in reality and in appearance. As the country’s total capital grew, competition among its component capitals would naturally grow as well. Their owners would have to accept a smaller share of the produce of the labor employed by their respective capitals. Interest on money, always moving with the profits of stock, could thus fall substantially even while the value of money—the quantity of goods a particular sum could purchase—rose substantially.
In some countries the law has prohibited interest on money. But because something can be earned by using money everywhere, something ought everywhere to be paid for its use. Experience has shown that this regulation increases, rather than prevents, the evil of usury. The debtor must pay not only for the use of the money, but also for the risk his creditor takes in accepting payment for that use; he must, so to speak, insure his creditor against the penalties for usury.
Where interest is permitted, the law generally sets a maximum rate that may be charged without penalty, in order to prevent usurious extortion. That rate should always stand somewhat above the lowest market rate—the rate ordinarily paid for the use of money by those able to offer the most unquestionable security. If the legal rate is set below that lowest market rate, its effects must be nearly the same as those of a complete ban on interest. A creditor will not lend his money for less than its use is worth, and the debtor must compensate him for the risk he takes in accepting its full value. If the legal rate is set exactly at the lowest market rate, it destroys, among honest people who respect their country’s laws, the credit of everyone unable to offer the very best security, forcing them to turn to exorbitant usurers. In a country such as Great Britain, where money is lent to the government at three percent and to private borrowers on good security at four and four and a half, the present legal rate of five percent is perhaps as suitable as any.
The legal rate, it should be observed, ought to be somewhat above the lowest market rate, but not much above it. If the legal rate of interest in Great Britain, for example, were set as high as eight or ten percent, most money available for lending would be lent to spendthrifts and speculative schemers, the only people willing to pay such high interest. Prudent people, who will pay for the use of money no more than a portion of what they expect to earn from using it, would not enter the competition. Much of the country’s capital would thus be kept out of the hands most likely to use it profitably and advantageously, and put into hands most likely to waste and destroy it. Where the legal rate of interest is set only a little above the lowest market rate, on the other hand, lenders universally prefer prudent borrowers to spendthrifts and schemers. A lender receives almost as much interest from the former as he dares charge the latter, and his money is much safer in one group’s hands than in the other’s. Much of the country’s capital is thus placed in the hands most likely to employ it to advantage.
No law can reduce the usual rate of interest below the lowest ordinary market rate prevailing when the law is made. Despite the edict of 1766, by which the French king tried to reduce the rate of interest from five to four percent, money continued to be lent in France at five percent, the law being evaded in several ways.
The ordinary market price of land, it should be observed, depends everywhere on the ordinary market rate of interest. A person with capital from which he wishes to draw revenue without the trouble of employing it himself considers whether to buy land or lend the capital at interest. The greater security of land, along with other advantages attached almost everywhere to this kind of property, will generally persuade him to accept a smaller revenue from land than he could obtain by lending his money at interest. These advantages can make up for a certain difference in revenue, but only a certain difference. If the rent of land falls further short of interest on money, no one will buy land, and its ordinary price will soon fall. Conversely, if the advantages more than make up for the difference, everyone will buy land, and its ordinary price will soon rise. When interest was ten percent, land commonly sold for ten or twelve years’ purchase. As interest fell to six, five, and four percent, the price of land rose to twenty, five-and-twenty, and thirty years’ purchase. The market rate of interest is higher in France than in England, and the ordinary price of land is lower. In England it commonly sells at thirty years’ purchase; in France, at twenty.
Book II, Chapter V, 1
18th-century English
OF THE DIFFERENT EMPLOYMENTS OF CAPITALS.
Though all capitals are destined for the maintenance of productive labour only, yet the quantity of that labour which equal capitals are capable of putting into motion, varies extremely according to the diversity of their employment; as does likewise the value which that employment adds to the annual produce of the land and labour of the country.
A capital may be employed in four different ways; either, first, in procuring the rude produce annually required for the use and consumption of the society; or, secondly, in manufacturing and preparing that rude produce for immediate use and consumption; or, thirdly in transporting either the rude or manufactured produce from the places where they abound to those where they are wanted; or, lastly, in dividing particular portions of either into such small parcels as suit the occasional demands of those who want them. In the first way are employed the capitals of all those who undertake improvement or cultivation of lands, mines, or fisheries; in the second, those of all master manufacturers; in the third, those of all wholesale merchants; and in the fourth, those of all retailers. It is difficult to conceive that a capital should be employed in any way which may not be classed under some one or other of those four.
Each of those four methods of employing a capital is essentially necessary, either to the existence or extension of the other three, or to the general conveniency of the society.
Unless a capital was employed in furnishing rude produce to a certain degree of abundance, neither manufactures nor trade of any kind could exist.
Unless a capital was employed in manufacturing that part of the rude produce which requires a good deal of preparation before it can be fit for use and consumption, it either would never be produced, because there could be no demand for it; or if it was produced spontaneously, it would be of no value in exchange, and could add nothing to the wealth of the society.
Unless a capital was employed in transporting either the rude or manufactured produce from the places where it abounds to those where it is wanted, no more of either could be produced than was necessary for the consumption of the neighbourhood. The capital of the merchant exchanges the surplus produce of one place for that of another, and thus encourages the industry, and increases the enjoyments of both.
Unless a capital was employed in breaking and dividing certain portions either of the rude or manufactured produce into such small parcels as suit the occasional demands of those who want them, every man would be obliged to purchase a greater quantity of the goods he wanted than his immediate occasions required. If there was no such trade as a butcher, for example, every man would be obliged to purchase a whole ox or a whole sheep at a time. This would generally be inconvenient to the rich, and much more so to the poor. If a poor workman was obliged to purchase a month’s or six months’ provisions at a time, a great part of the stock which he employs as a capital in the instruments of his trade, or in the furniture of his shop, and which yields him a revenue, he would be forced to place in that part of his stock which is reserved for immediate consumption, and which yields him no revenue. Nothing can be more convenient for such a person than to be able to purchase his subsistence from day to day, or even from hour to hour, as he wants it. He is thereby enabled to employ almost his whole stock as a capital. He is thus enabled to furnish work to a greater value; and the profit which he makes by it in this way much more than compensates the additional price which the profit of the retailer imposes upon the goods. The prejudices of some political writers against shopkeepers and tradesmen are altogether without foundation. So far is it from being necessary either to tax them, or to restrict their numbers, that they can never be multiplied so as to hurt the public, though they may so as to hurt one another. The quantity of grocery goods, for example, which can be sold in a particular town, is limited by the demand of that town and its neighbourhood. The capital, therefore, which can be employed in the grocery trade, cannot exceed what is sufficient to purchase that quantity. If this capital is divided between two different grocers, their competition will tend to make both of them sell cheaper than if it were in the hands of one only; and if it were divided among twenty, their competition would be just so much the greater, and the chance of their combining together, in order to raise the price, just so much the less. Their competition might, perhaps, ruin some of themselves; but to take care of this, is the business of the parties concerned, and it may safely be trusted to their discretion. It can never hurt either the consumer or the producer; on the contrary, it must tend to make the retailers both sell cheaper and buy dearer, than if the whole trade was monopolised by one or two persons. Some of them, perhaps, may sometimes decoy a weak customer to buy what he has no occasion for. This evil, however, is of too little importance to deserve the public attention, nor would it necessarily be prevented by restricting their numbers. It is not the multitude of alehouses, to give the must suspicious example, that occasions a general disposition to drunkenness among the common people; but that disposition, arising from other causes, necessarily gives employment to a multitude of alehouses.
The persons whose capitals are employed in any of those four ways, are themselves productive labourers. Their labour, when properly directed, fixes and realizes itself in the subject or vendible commodity upon which it is bestowed, and generally adds to its price the value at least of their own maintenance and consumption. The profits of the farmer, of the manufacturer, of the merchant, and retailer, are all drawn from the price of the goods which the two first produce, and the two last buy and sell. Equal capitals, however, employed in each of those four different ways, will immediately put into motion very different quantities of productive labour; and augment, too, in very different proportions, the value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the society to which they belong.
The capital of the retailer replaces, together with its profits, that of the merchant of whom he purchases goods, and thereby enables him to continue his business. The retailer himself is the only productive labourer whom it immediately employs. In his profit consists the whole value which its employment adds to the annual produce of the land and labour of the society.
The capital of the wholesale merchant replaces, together with their profits, the capitals of the farmers and manufacturers of whom he purchases the rude and manufactured produce which he deals in, and thereby enables them to continue their respective trades. It is by this service chiefly that he contributes indirectly to support the productive labour of the society, and to increase the value of its annual produce. His capital employs, too, the sailors and carriers who transport his goods from one place to another; and it augments the price of those goods by the value, not only of his profits, but of their wages. This is all the productive labour which it immediately puts into motion, and all the value which it immediately adds to the annual produce. Its operation in both these respects is a good deal superior to that of the capital of the retailer.
Part of the capital of the master manufacturer is employed as a fixed capital in the instruments of his trade, and replaces, together with its profits, that of some other artificer of whom he purchases them. Part of his circulating capital is employed in purchasing materials, and replaces, with their profits, the capitals of the farmers and miners of whom he purchases them. But a great part of it is always, either annually, or in a much shorter period, distributed among the different workmen whom he employs. It augments the value of those materials by their wages, and by their masters’ profits upon the whole stock of wages, materials, and instruments of trade employed in the business. It puts immediately into motion, therefore, a much greater quantity of productive labour, and adds a much greater value to the annual produce of the land and labour of the society, than an equal capital in the hands of any wholesale merchant.
No equal capital puts into motion a greater quantity of productive labour than that of the farmer. Not only his labouring servants, but his labouring cattle, are productive labourers. In agriculture, too, Nature labours along with man; and though her labour costs no expense, its produce has its value, as well as that of the most expensive workmen. The most important operations of agriculture seem intended, not so much to increase, though they do that too, as to direct the fertility of Nature towards the production of the plants most profitable to man. A field overgrown with briars and brambles, may frequently produce as great a quantity of vegetables as the best cultivated vineyard or corn field. Planting and tillage frequently regulate more than they animate the active fertility of Nature; and after all their labour, a great part of the work always remains to be done by her. The labourers and labouring cattle, therefore, employed in agriculture, not only occasion, like the workmen in manufactures, the reproduction of a value equal to their own consumption, or to the capital which employs them, together with its owner’s profits, but of a much greater value. Over and above the capital of the farmer, and all its profits, they regularly occasion the reproduction of the rent of the landlord. This rent may be considered as the produce of those powers of Nature, the use of which the landlord lends to the farmer. It is greater or smaller, according to the supposed extent of those powers, or, in other words, according to the supposed natural or improved fertility of the land. It is the work of Nature which remains, after deducting or compensating every thing which can be regarded as the work of man. It is seldom less than a fourth, and frequently more than a third, of the whole produce. No equal quantity of productive labour employed in manufactures, can ever occasion so great reproduction. In them Nature does nothing; man does all; and the reproduction must always be in proportion to the strength of the agents that occasion it. The capital employed in agriculture, therefore, not only puts into motion a greater quantity of productive labour than any equal capital employed in manufactures; but in proportion, too, to the quantity of productive labour which it employs, it adds a much greater value to the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, to the real wealth and revenue of its inhabitants. Of all the ways in which a capital can be employed, it is by far the most advantageous to society.
The capitals employed in the agriculture and in the retail trade of any society, must always reside within that society. Their employment is confined almost to a precise spot, to the farm, and to the shop of the retailer. They must generally, too, though there are some exceptions to this, belong to resident members of the society.
The capital of a wholesale merchant, on the contrary, seems to have no fixed or necessary residence anywhere, but may wander about from place to place, according as it can either buy cheap or sell dear.
The capital of the manufacturer must, no doubt, reside where the manufacture is carried on; but where this shall be, is not always necessarily determined. It may frequently be at a great distance, both from the place where the materials grow, and from that where the complete manufacture is consumed. Lyons is very distant, both from the places which afford the materials of its manufactures, and from those which consume them. The people of fashion in Sicily are clothed in silks made in other countries, from the materials which their own produces. Part of the wool of Spain is manufactured in Great Britain, and some part of that cloth is afterwards sent back to Spain.
Whether the merchant whose capital exports the surplus produce of any society, be a native or a foreigner, is of very little importance. If he is a foreigner, the number of their productive labourers is necessarily less than if he had been a native, by one man only; and the value of their annual produce, by the profits of that one man. The sailors or carriers whom he employs, may still belong indifferently either to his country, or to their country, or to some third country, in the same manner as if he had been a native. The capital of a foreigner gives a value to their surplus produce equally with that of a native, by exchanging it for something for which there is a demand at home. It as effectually replaces the capital of the person who produces that surplus, and as effectually enables him to continue his business, the service by which the capital of a wholesale merchant chiefly contributes to support the productive labour, and to augment the value of the annual produce of the society to which he belongs.
English
OF THE DIFFERENT EMPLOYMENTS OF CAPITALS.
Although all capital is ultimately destined to maintain productive labor alone, equal capitals set very different quantities of such labor in motion according to how they are employed. The value their employment adds to the annual produce of the country’s land and labor varies just as widely.
Capital may be employed in four ways: first, to obtain the raw produce annually needed for society’s use and consumption; second, to manufacture and prepare that raw produce for immediate use and consumption; third, to carry raw or manufactured produce from places where it is plentiful to places where it is needed; or, finally, to divide portions of either into parcels small enough to meet the occasional needs of those who want them. The capital of those who undertake to improve or cultivate lands, mines, or fisheries is employed in the first way; that of master manufacturers in the second; that of wholesale merchants in the third; and that of retailers in the fourth. It is difficult to imagine a use of capital that does not fall under one of these four headings.
Each of these four ways of employing capital is essential either to the existence or expansion of the other three, or to the general convenience of society.
Unless capital were employed to supply raw produce in some abundance, neither manufacturing nor trade of any kind could exist.
Unless capital were employed to manufacture the part of the raw produce that needs considerable preparation before it is fit for use and consumption, that produce would either never be produced, for lack of demand, or, if it arose spontaneously, would have no exchange value and could add nothing to society’s wealth.
Unless capital were employed to carry raw or manufactured produce from where it is plentiful to where it is needed, no more of either could be produced than the neighborhood could consume. The merchant’s capital exchanges the surplus produce of one place for that of another, encouraging the industry and increasing the enjoyments of both.
Unless capital were employed to break up and divide portions of raw or manufactured produce into parcels small enough for the occasional needs of those who want them, everyone would have to buy more of the goods he needed than his immediate needs required. If butchers did not exist, for example, everyone would have to buy a whole ox or sheep at once. This would generally inconvenience the rich, and the poor still more. If a poor workman had to buy a month’s or six months’ provisions at once, he would have to move much of the stock he employs as capital in the tools of his trade or the furnishings of his shop, which brings him revenue, into the part of his stock reserved for immediate consumption, which brings him none. Nothing could be more convenient for such a person than being able to buy his subsistence day by day, or even hour by hour, as he needs it. He can thereby employ almost all his stock as capital and furnish work of greater value. The profit he makes in this way more than offsets the extra price that the retailer’s profit adds to the goods. The prejudices of some political writers against shopkeepers and tradespeople are wholly groundless. Far from needing to tax them or restrict their numbers, we cannot multiply them enough to harm the public, though they may harm one another. The quantity of groceries that can be sold in a particular town, for example, is limited by demand in that town and its neighborhood. The capital employed in the grocery trade, therefore, cannot exceed what is needed to buy that quantity. If that capital is divided between two grocers, their competition will tend to make both sell more cheaply than if one held it all; divided among twenty, it will make competition greater still, and make their combining to raise the price that much less likely. Their competition may ruin some of them, but guarding against this is the concern of those involved, and can safely be left to their judgment. It cannot harm either consumer or producer; on the contrary, it must tend to make retailers sell more cheaply and buy at higher prices than if one or two people monopolized the entire trade. Some retailers may sometimes entice an impressionable customer to buy what he does not need. This evil, however, matters too little to warrant public attention, nor would limiting their numbers necessarily prevent it. It is not the multitude of alehouses, to take the most suspicious example, that produces a general inclination to drunkenness among ordinary people; rather, that inclination, arising from other causes, necessarily provides business for a multitude of alehouses.
Those whose capital is employed in any of these four ways are themselves productive laborers. When properly directed, their labor becomes embodied and realized in the material or salable commodity on which it is spent, generally adding to its price at least the value of their own maintenance and consumption. The profits of the farmer, manufacturer, merchant, and retailer all come from the price of goods that the first two produce and the last two buy and sell. Equal capitals employed in these four ways, however, immediately set in motion very different quantities of productive labor and increase by very different proportions the value of the annual produce of the land and labor of the society to which they belong.
The retailer’s capital replaces, along with its profits, the capital of the merchant from whom he buys goods, enabling that merchant to continue his business. The retailer himself is the only productive laborer it immediately employs. His profit makes up the entire value that the employment of his capital adds to society’s annual produce of land and labor.
The wholesale merchant’s capital replaces, along with their profits, the capitals of the farmers and manufacturers from whom he buys the raw and manufactured produce in which he deals, enabling them to continue their respective businesses. Chiefly through this service he indirectly helps maintain society’s productive labor and increase the value of its annual produce. His capital also employs the sailors and carriers who transport his goods from place to place, and increases the price of those goods by the value not only of his profits but of their wages. This is all the productive labor it immediately sets in motion, and all the value it immediately adds to annual produce. In both respects its effect is considerably greater than that of the retailer’s capital.
Part of a master manufacturer’s capital is employed as fixed capital in his tools and machinery, replacing, along with its profits, the capital of the craftsman from whom he buys them. Part of his circulating capital purchases materials, replacing, along with their profits, the capitals of the farmers and miners from whom he buys them. But a large part is always distributed, annually or within a much shorter time, among the various workmen he employs. It increases the value of those materials by their wages and by their employer’s profits on the entire stock of wages, materials, and tools employed in the business. It therefore immediately sets in motion far more productive labor, and adds far more value to the annual produce of society’s land and labor, than an equal capital in the hands of any wholesale merchant.
No equal capital sets in motion more productive labor than a farmer’s. Not only his working servants but his working cattle are productive laborers. In agriculture, moreover, Nature labors beside man; though her labor costs nothing, its produce has value no less than that of the most costly workmen. The most important agricultural operations seem designed not so much to increase Nature’s fertility, though they do that too, as to direct it toward producing the plants most profitable to man. A field overgrown with briars and brambles may often yield as much vegetation as the finest cultivated vineyard or cornfield. Planting and tilling often regulate rather than rouse Nature’s active fertility; after all their labor, much of the work still falls to her. The laborers and working cattle employed in agriculture therefore bring about, as manufacturing workmen do, the reproduction of a value equal to their own consumption, or to the capital that employs them, together with its owner’s profits; but they also bring about the reproduction of a much greater value. Beyond the farmer’s capital and all its profits, they regularly reproduce the landlord’s rent. That rent may be regarded as the produce of Nature’s powers, whose use the landlord lends the farmer. It rises or falls with the supposed extent of those powers—in other words, with the land’s supposed natural or improved fertility. It is Nature’s work left over after deducting or compensating everything attributable to man’s work. It is seldom less than a fourth, and often more than a third, of the entire produce. No equal quantity of productive labor employed in manufacturing can ever bring about so great a reproduction. There Nature does nothing and man does everything; the reproduction must always be proportional to the strength of the agents who bring it about. Capital employed in agriculture therefore sets in motion not only more productive labor than an equal capital employed in manufacturing, but, in proportion to the productive labor it employs, also adds much more value to the annual produce of the country’s land and labor—to the real wealth and revenue of its inhabitants. Of all uses of capital, it is by far the most advantageous to society.
The capitals employed in a society’s agriculture and retail trade must always remain within that society. Their employment is confined almost to a particular spot: the farm and the retailer’s shop. In general, though there are exceptions, they must also belong to residents of that society.
A wholesale merchant’s capital, by contrast, seems to have no fixed or necessary residence anywhere. It may wander from place to place wherever it can buy cheaply or sell dearly.
A manufacturer’s capital must, of course, remain where manufacturing takes place, but that place is not always fixed by necessity. It may often be far from both the source of the materials and the place where the finished product is consumed. Lyons is very distant both from the places supplying materials for its manufactures and from those consuming them. Fashionable people in Sicily dress in silks made in other countries from materials produced in Sicily itself. Some of Spain’s wool is manufactured in Great Britain, and some of the resulting cloth is subsequently sent back to Spain.
Whether the merchant whose capital exports a society’s surplus produce is native or foreign matters very little. If he is foreign, the society has necessarily one fewer productive laborer than if he were native, and its annual produce is lower by that one man’s profits. The sailors or carriers he employs may still belong to his country, to theirs, or to a third country, just as they might if he were native. A foreigner’s capital gives their surplus produce value just as a native’s does, by exchanging it for something demanded at home. It replaces the capital of the person producing the surplus just as effectively, and just as effectively enables him to continue his business. This is the chief service by which the wholesale merchant’s capital helps support productive labor and increase the value of the annual produce of the society to which he belongs.
Book II, Chapter V, 2
18th-century English
It is of more consequence that the capital of the manufacturer should reside within the country. It necessarily puts into motion a greater quantity of productive labour, and adds a greater value to the annual produce of the land and labour of the society. It may, however, be very useful to the country, though it should not reside within it. The capitals of the British manufacturers who work up the flax and hemp annually imported from the coasts of the Baltic, are surely very useful to the countries which produce them. Those materials are a part of the surplus produce of those countries, which, unless it was annually exchanged for something which is in demand there, would be of no value, and would soon cease to be produced. The merchants who export it, replace the capitals of the people who produce it, and thereby encourage them to continue the production; and the British manufacturers replace the capitals of those merchants.
A particular country, in the same manner as a particular person, may frequently not have capital sufficient both to improve and cultivate all its lands, to manufacture and prepare their whole rude produce for immediate use and consumption, and to transport the surplus part either of the rude or manufactured produce to those distant markets, where it can be exchanged for something for which there is a demand at home. The inhabitants of many different parts of Great Britain have not capital sufficient to improve and cultivate all their lands. The wool of the southern counties of Scotland is, a great part of it, after a long land carriage through very bad roads, manufactured in Yorkshire, for want of a capital to manufacture it at home. There are many little manufacturing towns in Great Britain, of which the inhabitants have not capital sufficient to transport the produce of their own industry to those distant markets where there is demand and consumption for it. If there are any merchants among them, they are, properly, only the agents of wealthier merchants who reside in some of the great commercial cities.
When the capital of any country is not sufficient for all those three purposes, in proportion as a greater share of it is employed in agriculture, the greater will be the quantity of productive labour which it puts into motion within the country; as will likewise be the value which its employment adds to the annual produce of the land and labour of the society. After agriculture, the capital employed in manufactures puts into motion the greatest quantity of productive labour, and adds the greatest value to the annual produce. That which is employed in the trade of exportation has the least effect of any of the three.
The country, indeed, which has not capital sufficient for all those three purposes, has not arrived at that degree of opulence for which it seems naturally destined. To attempt, however, prematurely, and with an insufficient capital, to do all the three, is certainly not the shortest way for a society, no more than it would be for an individual, to acquire a sufficient one. The capital of all the individuals of a nation has its limits, in the same manner as that of a single individual, and is capable of executing only certain purposes. The capital of all the individuals of a nation is increased in the same manner as that of a single individual, by their continually accumulating and adding to it whatever they save out of their revenue. It is likely to increase the fastest, therefore, when it is employed in the way that affords the greatest revenue to all the inhabitants or the country, as they will thus be enabled to make the greatest savings. But the revenue of all the inhabitants of the country is necessarily in proportion to the value of the annual produce of their land and labour.
It has been the principal cause of the rapid progress of our American colonies towards wealth and greatness, that almost their whole capitals have hitherto been employed in agriculture. They have no manufactures, those household and coarser manufactures excepted, which necessarily accompany the progress of agriculture, and which are the work of the women and children in every private family. The greater part, both of the exportation and coasting trade of America, is carried on by the capitals of merchants who reside in Great Britain. Even the stores and warehouses from which goods are retailed in some provinces, particularly in Virginia and Maryland, belong many of them to merchants who reside in the mother country, and afford one of the few instances of the retail trade of a society being carried on by the capitals of those who are not resident members of it. Were the Americans, either by combination, or by any other sort of violence, to stop the importation of European manufactures, and, by thus giving a monopoly to such of their own countrymen as could manufacture the like goods, divert any considerable part of their capital into this employment, they would retard, instead of accelerating, the further increase in the value of their annual produce, and would obstruct, instead of promoting, the progress of their country towards real wealth and greatness. This would be still more the case, were they to attempt, in the same manner, to monopolize to themselves their whole exportation trade.
The course of human prosperity, indeed, seems scarce ever to have been of so long continuance as to enable any great country to acquire capital sufficient for all those three purposes; unless, perhaps, we give credit to the wonderful accounts of the wealth and cultivation of China, of those of ancient Egypt, and of the ancient state of Indostan. Even those three countries, the wealthiest, according to all accounts, that ever were in the world, are chiefly renowned for their superiority in agriculture and manufactures. They do not appear to have been eminent for foreign trade. The ancient Egyptians had a superstitious antipathy to the sea; a superstition nearly of the same kind prevails among the Indians; and the Chinese have never excelled in foreign commerce. The greater part of the surplus produce of all those three countries seems to have been always exported by foreigners, who gave in exchange for it something else, for which they found a demand there, frequently gold and silver.
It is thus that the same capital will in any country put into motion a greater or smaller quantity of productive labour, and add a greater or smaller value to the annual produce of its land and labour, according to the different proportions in which it is employed in agriculture, manufactures, and wholesale trade. The difference, too, is very great, according to the different sorts of wholesale trade in which any part of it is employed.
All wholesale trade, all buying in order to sell again by wholesale, maybe reduced to three different sorts: the home trade, the foreign trade of consumption, and the carrying trade. The home trade is employed in purchasing in one part of the same country, and selling in another, the produce of the industry of that country. It comprehends both the inland and the coasting trade. The foreign trade of consumption is employed in purchasing foreign goods for home consumption. The carrying trade is employed in transacting the commerce of foreign countries, or in carrying the surplus produce of one to another.
The capital which is employed in purchasing in one part of the country, in order to sell in another, the produce of the industry of that country, generally replaces, by every such operation, two distinct capitals, that had both been employed in the agriculture or manufactures of that country, and thereby enables them to continue that employment. When it sends out from the residence of the merchant a certain value of commodities, it generally brings back in return at least an equal value of other commodities. When both are the produce of domestic industry, it necessarily replaces, by every such operation, two distinct capitals, which had both been employed in supporting productive labour, and thereby enables them to continue that support. The capital which sends Scotch manufactures to London, and brings back English corn and manufactures to Edinburgh, necessarily replaces, by every such operation, two British capitals, which had both been employed in the agriculture or manufactures of Great Britain.
The capital employed in purchasing foreign goods for home consumption, when this purchase is made with the produce of domestic industry, replaces, too, by every such operation, two distinct capitals; but one of them only is employed in supporting domestic industry. The capital which sends British goods to Portugal, and brings back Portuguese goods to Great Britain, replaces, by every such operation, only one British capital. The other is a Portuguese one. Though the returns, therefore, of the foreign trade of consumption, should be as quick as those of the home trade, the capital employed in it will give but one half of the encouragement to the industry or productive labour of the country.
But the returns of the foreign trade of consumption are very seldom so quick as those of the home trade. The returns of the home trade generally come in before the end of the year, and sometimes three or four times in the year. The returns of the foreign trade of consumption seldom come in before the end of the year, and sometimes not till after two or three years. A capital, therefore, employed in the home trade, will sometimes make twelve operations, or be sent out and returned twelve times, before a capital employed in the foreign trade of consumption has made one. If the capitals are equal, therefore, the one will give four-and-twenty times more encouragement and support to the industry of the country than the other.
The foreign goods for home consumption may sometimes be purchased, not with the produce of domestic industry but with some other foreign goods. These last, however, must have been purchased, either immediately with the produce of domestic industry, or with something else that had been purchased with it; for, the case of war and conquest excepted, foreign goods can never be acquired, but in exchange for something that had been produced at home, either immediately, or after two or more different exchanges. The effects, therefore, of a capital employed in such a round-about foreign trade of consumption, are, in every respect, the same as those of one employed in the most direct trade of the same kind, except that the final returns are likely to be still more distant, as they must depend upon the returns of two or three distinct foreign trades. If the hemp and flax of Riga are purchased with the tobacco of Virginia, which had been purchased with British manufactures, the merchant must wait for the returns of two distinct foreign trades, before he can employ the same capital in repurchasing a like quantity of British manufactures. If the tobacco of Virginia had been purchased, not with British manufactures, but with the sugar and rum of Jamaica, which had been purchased with those manufactures, he must wait for the returns of three. If those two or three distinct foreign trades should happen to be carried on by two or three distinct merchants, of whom the second buys the goods imported by the first, and the third buys those imported by the second, in order to export them again, each merchant, indeed, will, in this case, receive the returns of his own capital more quickly; but the final returns of the whole capital employed in the trade will be just as slow as ever. Whether the whole capital employed in such a round about trade belong to one merchant or to three, can make no difference with regard to the country, though it may with regard to the particular merchants. Three times a greater capital must in both cases be employed, in order to exchange a certain value of British manufactures for a certain quantity of flax and hemp, than would have been necessary, had the manufactures and the flax and hemp been directly exchanged for one another. The whole capital employed, therefore, in such a round-about foreign trade of consumption, will generally give less encouragement and support to the productive labour of the country, than an equal capital employed in a more direct trade of the same kind.
English
It matters more that a manufacturer’s capital should reside within the country. It necessarily sets more productive labor in motion and adds more value to the annual produce of society’s land and labor. It may, however, be very useful to the country even if it does not reside there. The capitals of British manufacturers who work the flax and hemp imported each year from the Baltic coasts are certainly very useful to the countries that produce those materials. The materials form part of those countries’ surplus produce, which, unless exchanged each year for something demanded there, would be worthless and would soon cease to be produced. The merchants who export them replace the capitals of those who produce them, thereby encouraging continued production; the British manufacturers in turn replace the capitals of those merchants.
Like an individual, a particular country may often lack enough capital both to improve and cultivate all its land, to manufacture and prepare all its raw produce for immediate use and consumption, and to carry the surplus raw or manufactured produce to distant markets, where it can be exchanged for something demanded at home. People in many parts of Great Britain lack enough capital to improve and cultivate all their land. Much of the wool of southern Scotland, for want of capital to manufacture it locally, is manufactured in Yorkshire after a long overland journey on very bad roads. There are many small manufacturing towns in Great Britain whose inhabitants lack enough capital to transport what their industry produces to distant markets where it is wanted and consumed. Any merchants among them are, properly speaking, merely agents of wealthier merchants living in the great commercial cities.
When a country’s capital is insufficient for all three purposes, the greater the share employed in agriculture, the more productive labor it will set in motion within the country, and the more value its employment will add to the annual produce of society’s land and labor. After agriculture, capital employed in manufacturing sets the most productive labor in motion and adds the most value to annual produce. Capital employed in the export trade has the least effect of the three.
A country lacking sufficient capital for all three purposes has, indeed, not reached the degree of wealth for which it seems naturally destined. Yet attempting all three prematurely, with insufficient capital, is certainly no shorter route to acquiring enough capital for a society than it would be for an individual. The combined capital of a nation’s individuals has its limits, just as the capital of one individual does, and can accomplish only certain ends. It grows as an individual’s capital grows: through the continual accumulation and addition of whatever they save from their revenue. It is therefore likely to grow fastest when employed in the way that yields the greatest revenue to all the country’s inhabitants, allowing them the greatest savings. But their revenue is necessarily proportional to the value of the annual produce of their land and labor.
The principal cause of our American colonies’ rapid advance toward wealth and greatness has been that almost all their capital has so far been employed in agriculture. They have no manufactures except the household and coarser kinds that necessarily accompany agricultural progress, produced by the women and children of every household. Most of America’s export and coastal trade is carried on with the capitals of merchants residing in Great Britain. Even many of the stores and warehouses that retail goods in certain provinces, notably Virginia and Maryland, belong to merchants residing in the mother country, providing one of the few instances in which a society’s retail trade is carried on by capital belonging to nonresidents. If Americans, by concerted action or any other kind of coercion, were to halt imports of European manufactures, thereby giving a monopoly to their own countrymen able to manufacture similar goods, and divert a substantial portion of their capital into that employment, they would retard rather than accelerate further growth in the value of their annual produce, and obstruct rather than advance their country’s progress toward real wealth and greatness. This would be still more true if they attempted in the same manner to monopolize their entire export trade.
Indeed, the course of human prosperity seems scarcely ever to have lasted long enough for any great country to acquire capital sufficient for all three purposes, unless perhaps we credit the marvelous accounts of the wealth and cultivation of China, ancient Egypt, and ancient Indostan. Even these three countries, by all accounts the richest that ever existed, are chiefly renowned for their preeminence in agriculture and manufacturing. They do not appear to have distinguished themselves in foreign trade. The ancient Egyptians had a superstitious aversion to the sea; a similar superstition prevails among the Indians; and the Chinese have never excelled in foreign commerce. Most of the surplus produce of all three countries seems always to have been exported by foreigners, who exchanged for it something in demand there, often gold and silver.
Thus the same capital in any country will set in motion more or less productive labor, and add more or less value to the annual produce of its land and labor, according to the proportions in which it is employed in agriculture, manufacturing, and wholesale trade. The difference is also very great according to the kind of wholesale trade in which any portion of it is employed.
All wholesale trade—all buying in order to sell again wholesale—may be divided into three kinds: the home trade, the foreign trade of consumption, and the carrying trade. The home trade buys the products of a country’s industry in one part of that country and sells them in another. It includes both inland and coastal trade. The foreign trade of consumption buys foreign goods for domestic consumption. The carrying trade conducts commerce between foreign countries, carrying one country’s surplus produce to another.
Capital employed to buy the products of a country’s industry in one part of that country for sale in another generally replaces, in each transaction, two distinct capitals, both employed in that country’s agriculture or manufacturing, enabling them to continue their employment. When it sends a certain value of commodities away from the merchant’s place of residence, it generally brings back in exchange at least an equal value of other commodities. When both are the products of domestic industry, every transaction necessarily replaces two distinct capitals, both employed in maintaining productive labor, enabling them to continue that support. The capital that sends Scotch manufactures to London and brings English corn and manufactures back to Edinburgh necessarily replaces, with every transaction, two British capitals, both employed in Great Britain’s agriculture or manufacturing.
Capital employed to buy foreign goods for domestic consumption also replaces two distinct capitals in each transaction when it buys them with the products of domestic industry, but only one of the two supports domestic industry. Capital that sends British goods to Portugal and brings Portuguese goods back to Great Britain replaces only one British capital in each transaction. The other is Portuguese. Thus, even if returns from the foreign trade of consumption arrive as quickly as returns from the home trade, the capital employed in it will give only half as much encouragement to the country’s industry or productive labor.
But the returns from the foreign trade of consumption are very seldom as quick as those from the home trade. Returns from the home trade generally arrive before year’s end, and sometimes three or four times in a year. Returns from the foreign trade of consumption seldom arrive before year’s end, and sometimes take two or three years. Capital employed in the home trade may therefore complete twelve transactions—be sent out and returned twelve times—before capital employed in the foreign trade of consumption completes one. If the capitals are equal, the first will therefore give four-and-twenty times as much encouragement and support to the country’s industry as the second.
Foreign goods for domestic consumption may sometimes be purchased not with domestic produce, but with other foreign goods. Those other goods, however, must have been purchased either directly with the products of domestic industry or with something else purchased with those products. Except in cases of war and conquest, foreign goods can only be acquired in exchange for something produced at home, either directly or after two or more successive exchanges. The effects of capital employed in such a roundabout foreign trade of consumption are therefore in every respect the same as those of capital employed in the most direct trade of that kind, except that its final returns are likely to take even longer, since they depend on returns from two or three separate foreign trades. If the hemp and flax of Riga are bought with tobacco from Virginia, which was bought with British manufactures, the merchant must wait for the returns from two distinct foreign trades before he can use the same capital to buy another like quantity of British manufactures. If the Virginia tobacco was bought not with British manufactures but with the sugar and rum of Jamaica, themselves bought with those manufactures, he must wait for the returns from three trades. If two or three separate merchants conduct these two or three trades, the second buying what the first imports and the third buying what the second imports to export it again, each merchant will indeed receive the returns on his own capital more quickly; but the final returns on all the capital employed will be just as slow as ever. Whether all the capital employed in such a roundabout trade belongs to one merchant or three makes no difference to the country, though it may matter to the individual merchants. In either case three times as much capital must be employed to exchange a given value of British manufactures for a given quantity of flax and hemp as would have been needed had the manufactures and the flax and hemp been exchanged directly. All the capital employed in such a roundabout foreign trade of consumption will therefore generally provide less encouragement and support to the country’s productive labor than an equal capital employed in a more direct trade of the same kind.
Book II, Chapter V, 3
18th-century English
Whatever be the foreign commodity with which the foreign goods for home consumption are purchased, it can occasion no essential difference, either in the nature of the trade, or in the encouragement and support which it can give to the productive labour of the country from which it is carried on. If they are purchased with the gold of Brazil, for example, or with the silver of Peru, this gold and silver, like the tobacco of Virginia, must have been purchased with something that either was the produce of the industry of the country, or that had been purchased with something else that was so. So far, therefore, as the productive labour of the country is concerned, the foreign trade of consumption, which is carried on by means of gold and silver, has all the advantages and all the inconveniencies of any other equally round-about foreign trade of consumption; and will replace, just as fast, or just as slow, the capital which is immediately employed in supporting that productive labour. It seems even to have one advantage over any other equally round-about foreign trade. The transportation of those metals from one place to another, on account of their small bulk and great value, is less expensive than that of almost any other foreign goods of equal value. Their freight is much less, and their insurance not greater; and no goods, besides, are less liable to suffer by the carriage. An equal quantity of foreign goods, therefore, may frequently be purchased with a smaller quantity of the produce of domestic industry, by the intervention of gold and silver, than by that of any other foreign goods. The demand of the country may frequently, in this manner, be supplied more completely, and at a smaller expense, than in any other. Whether, by the continual exportation of those metals, a trade of this kind is likely to impoverish the country from which it is carried on in any other way, I shall have occasion to examine at great length hereafter.
That part of the capital of any country which is employed in the carrying trade, is altogether withdrawn from supporting the productive labour of that particular country, to support that of some foreign countries. Though it may replace, by every operation, two distinct capitals, yet neither of them belongs to that particular country. The capital of the Dutch merchant, which carries the corn of Poland to Portugal, and brings back the fruits and wines of Portugal to Poland, replaces by every such operation two capitals, neither of which had been employed in supporting the productive labour of Holland; but one of them in supporting that of Poland, and the other that of Portugal. The profits only return regularly to Holland, and constitute the whole addition which this trade necessarily makes to the annual produce of the land and labour of that country. When, indeed, the carrying trade of any particular country is carried on with the ships and sailors of that country, that part of the capital employed in it which pays the freight is distributed among, and puts into motion, a certain number of productive labourers of that country. Almost all nations that have had any considerable share of the carrying trade have, in fact, carried it on in this manner. The trade itself has probably derived its name from it, the people of such countries being the carriers to other countries. It does not, however, seem essential to the nature of the trade that it should be so. A Dutch merchant may, for example, employ his capital in transacting the commerce of Poland and Portugal, by carrying part of the surplus produce of the one to the other, not in Dutch, but in British bottoms. It maybe presumed, that he actually does so upon some particular occasions. It is upon this account, however, that the carrying trade has been supposed peculiarly advantageous to such a country as Great Britain, of which the defence and security depend upon the number of its sailors and shipping. But the same capital may employ as many sailors and shipping, either in the foreign trade of consumption, or even in the home trade, when carried on by coasting vessels, as it could in the carrying trade. The number of sailors and shipping which any particular capital can employ, does not depend upon the nature of the trade, but partly upon the bulk of the goods, in proportion to their value, and partly upon the distance of the ports between which they are to be carried; chiefly upon the former of those two circumstances. The coal trade from Newcastle to London, for example, employs more shipping than all the carrying trade of England, though the ports are at no great distance. To force, therefore, by extraordinary encouragements, a larger share of the capital of any country into the carrying trade, than what would naturally go to it, will not always necessarily increase the shipping of that country.
The capital, therefore, employed in the home trade of any country, will generally give encouragement and support to a greater quantity of productive labour in that country, and increase the value of its annual produce, more than an equal capital employed in the foreign trade of consumption; and the capital employed in this latter trade has, in both these respects, a still greater advantage over an equal capital employed in the carrying trade. The riches, and so far as power depends upon riches, the power of every country must always be in proportion to the value of its annual produce, the fund from which all taxes must ultimately be paid. But the great object of the political economy of every country, is to increase the riches and power of that country. It ought, therefore, to give no preference nor superior encouragement to the foreign trade of consumption above the home trade, nor to the carrying trade above either of the other two. It ought neither to force nor to allure into either of those two channels a greater share of the capital of the country, than what would naturally flow into them of its own accord.
Each of those different branches of trade, however, is not only advantageous, but necessary and unavoidable, when the course of things, without any constraint or violence, naturally introduces it.
When the produce of any particular branch of industry exceeds what the demand of the country requires, the surplus must be sent abroad, and exchanged for something for which there is a demand at home. Without such exportation, a part of the productive labour of the country must cease, and the value of its annual produce diminish. The land and labour of Great Britain produce generally more corn, woollens, and hardware, than the demand of the home market requires. The surplus part of them, therefore, must be sent abroad, and exchanged for something for which there is a demand at home. It is only by means of such exportation, that this surplus can acquire a value sufficient to compensate the labour and expense of producing it. The neighbourhood of the sea-coast, and the banks of all navigable rivers, are advantageous situations for industry, only because they facilitate the exportation and exchange of such surplus produce for something else which is more in demand there.
When the foreign goods which are thus purchased with the surplus produce of domestic industry exceed the demand of the home market, the surplus part of them must be sent abroad again, and exchanged for something more in demand at home. About 96,000 hogsheads of tobacco are annually purchased in Virginia and Maryland with a part of the surplus produce of British industry. But the demand of Great Britain does not require, perhaps, more than 14,000. If the remaining 82,000, therefore, could not be sent abroad, and exchanged for something more in demand at home, the importation of them must cease immediately, and with it the productive labour of all those inhabitants of Great Britain who are at present employed in preparing the goods with which these 82,000 hogsheads are annually purchased. Those goods, which are part of the produce of the land and labour of Great Britain, having no market at home, and being deprived of that which they had abroad, must cease to be produced. The most round-about foreign trade of consumption, therefore, may, upon some occasions, be as necessary for supporting the productive labour of the country, and the value of its annual produce, as the most direct.
When the capital stock of any country is increased to such a degree that it cannot be all employed in supplying the consumption, and supporting the productive labour of that particular country, the surplus part of it naturally disgorges itself into the carrying trade, and is employed in performing the same offices to other countries. The carrying trade is the natural effect and symptom of great national wealth; but it does not seem to be the natural cause of it. Those statesmen who have been disposed to favour it with particular encouragement, seem to have mistaken the effect and symptom for the cause. Holland, in proportion to the extent of the land and the number of its inhabitants, by far the richest country in Europe, has accordingly the greatest share of the carrying trade of Europe. England, perhaps the second richest country of Europe, is likewise supposed to have a considerable share in it; though what commonly passes for the carrying trade of England will frequently, perhaps, be found to be no more than a round-about foreign trade of consumption. Such are, in a great measure, the trades which carry the goods of the East and West Indies and of America to the different European markets. Those goods are generally purchased, either immediately with the produce of British industry, or with something else which had been purchased with that produce, and the final returns of those trades are generally used or consumed in Great Britain. The trade which is carried on in British bottoms between the different ports of the Mediterranean, and some trade of the same kind carried on by British merchants between the different ports of India, make, perhaps, the principal branches of what is properly the carrying trade of Great Britain.
The extent of the home trade, and of the capital which can be employed in it, is necessarily limited by the value of the surplus produce of all those distant places within the country which have occasion to exchange their respective productions with one another; that of the foreign trade of consumption, by the value of the surplus produce of the whole country, and of what can be purchased with it; that of the carrying trade, by the value of the surplus produce of all the different countries in the world. Its possible extent, therefore, is in a manner infinite in comparison of that of the other two, and is capable of absorbing the greatest capitals.
The consideration of his own private profit is the sole motive which determines the owner of any capital to employ it either in agriculture, in manufactures, or in some particular branch of the wholesale or retail trade. The different quantities of productive labour which it may put into motion, and the different values which it may add to the annual produce of the land and labour of the society, according as it is employed in one or other of those different ways, never enter into his thoughts. In countries, therefore, where agriculture is the most profitable of all employments, and farming and improving the most direct roads to a splendid fortune, the capitals of individuals will naturally be employed in the manner most advantageous to the whole society. The profits of agriculture, however, seem to have no superiority over those of other employments in any part of Europe. Projectors, indeed, in every corner of it, have, within these few years, amused the public with most magnificent accounts of the profits to be made by the cultivation and improvement of land. Without entering into any particular discussion of their calculations, a very simple observation may satisfy us that the result of them must be false. We see, every day, the most splendid fortunes, that have been acquired in the course of a single life, by trade and manufactures, frequently from a very small capital, sometimes from no capital. A single instance of such a fortune, acquired by agriculture in the same time, and from such a capital, has not, perhaps, occurred in Europe, during the course of the present century. In all the great countries of Europe, however, much good land still remains uncultivated; and the greater part of what is cultivated, is far from being improved to the degree of which it is capable. Agriculture, therefore, is almost everywhere capable of absorbing a much greater capital than has ever yet been employed in it. What circumstances in the policy of Europe have given the trades which are carried on in towns so great an advantage over that which is carried on in the country, that private persons frequently find it more for their advantage to employ their capitals in the most distant carrying trades of Asia and America than in the improvement and cultivation of the most fertile fields in their own neighbourhood, I shall endeavour to explain at full length in the two following books.
English
Whatever foreign commodity is used to buy foreign goods for domestic consumption, it makes no essential difference either to the nature of the trade or to the encouragement and support that trade can give to productive labor in the country conducting it. If they are bought with gold from Brazil, for example, or silver from Peru, that gold and silver, like tobacco from Virginia, must have been bought with something either produced by the country’s industry or bought with something so produced. As far as the country’s productive labor is concerned, therefore, the foreign trade of consumption conducted through gold and silver has all the advantages and disadvantages of any equally roundabout foreign trade of consumption. It will replace the capital immediately employed in maintaining that productive labor just as quickly or slowly. It even seems to have one advantage over any other equally roundabout foreign trade. Because these metals are compact and valuable, transporting them from one place to another costs less than transporting almost any other foreign goods of equal value. Their freight costs much less, their insurance costs no more, and no other goods are less likely to be damaged in transit. The same quantity of foreign goods may thus often be purchased, through gold and silver, with a smaller quantity of domestic produce than through any other foreign goods. The country’s demand may often be supplied more fully and at lower cost in this way than in any other. Whether the continual export of those metals in such a trade is likely to impoverish the country conducting it in some other way is a question I will examine at length later.
The part of a country’s capital employed in the carrying trade is wholly withdrawn from supporting productive labor in that country, and instead supports productive labor in foreign countries. Though each transaction may replace two distinct capitals, neither belongs to the country in question. The Dutch merchant’s capital that carries Poland’s corn to Portugal and brings Portugal’s fruits and wines back to Poland replaces two capitals in every transaction. Neither maintained productive labor in Holland: one maintained it in Poland, the other in Portugal. Only the profits regularly return to Holland, and they constitute the entire addition this trade necessarily makes to the annual produce of that country’s land and labor. When a country conducts its carrying trade with its own ships and sailors, however, the portion of capital devoted to paying freight is distributed among a number of that country’s productive laborers and sets them to work. Almost all nations with a considerable share of the carrying trade have in fact conducted it this way. The trade itself probably takes its name from this practice, since people from those countries act as carriers for other countries. This practice does not, however, seem essential to the trade. A Dutch merchant, for example, can use his capital to conduct trade between Poland and Portugal, carrying some of one country’s surplus produce to the other in British rather than Dutch ships. We may suppose that he does so on particular occasions. The use of domestic ships, however, has led people to regard the carrying trade as especially advantageous to a country like Great Britain, whose defense and security depend on the number of its sailors and ships. But the same capital can employ as many sailors and ships in the foreign trade of consumption, or even in home trade conducted by coastal vessels, as in the carrying trade. The number of sailors and ships any particular capital can employ depends not on the kind of trade, but partly on the bulk of the goods relative to their value, and partly on the distance between the ports to which they must be carried—chiefly on the former. The coal trade from Newcastle to London, for example, employs more shipping than all England’s carrying trade, though the ports are not far apart. Forcing an unusually large share of a country’s capital into the carrying trade through extraordinary inducements, beyond what would naturally enter it, will therefore not necessarily increase its shipping.
Capital employed in a country’s home trade will thus generally encourage and support more productive labor there, and increase the value of its annual produce more, than an equal capital employed in the foreign trade of consumption; capital employed in the latter trade has, in both respects, a still greater advantage over an equal capital employed in the carrying trade. Every country’s wealth, and its power insofar as power depends on wealth, must always be proportional to the value of its annual produce, the fund from which all taxes must ultimately be paid. Yet the principal aim of every country’s political economy is to increase that country’s wealth and power. It should therefore give neither preference nor greater encouragement to the foreign trade of consumption over the home trade, nor to the carrying trade over either of the other two. It should neither force nor entice into either of these two channels more of the country’s capital than would flow there naturally of its own accord.
Each of these branches of trade, however, is not merely advantageous but necessary and unavoidable when the natural course of events, free from constraint or coercion, brings it into being.
When the produce of a particular branch of industry exceeds domestic demand, the surplus must be sent abroad and exchanged for something demanded at home. Without such exports, some of the country’s productive labor must cease and the value of its annual produce diminish. Great Britain’s land and labor generally produce more corn, woolens, and hardware than the home market requires. The surplus must therefore be sent abroad and exchanged for something demanded at home. Only through such exports can this surplus acquire enough value to compensate the labor and expense of producing it. The seacoast and the banks of navigable rivers are advantageous places for industry only because they make it easier to export such surplus produce and exchange it for something in greater demand there.
When the foreign goods purchased with the surplus produce of domestic industry exceed demand in the home market, their surplus must be sent abroad again and exchanged for something in greater demand at home. About 96,000 hogsheads of tobacco are bought annually in Virginia and Maryland with part of the surplus produce of British industry. Great Britain, however, may require no more than 14,000. If the remaining 82,000 could not be sent abroad and exchanged for something in greater demand at home, imports of those hogsheads would cease at once, and with them the productive labor of all those inhabitants of Great Britain now engaged in preparing the goods that buy these 82,000 hogsheads annually. These goods, part of the produce of Great Britain’s land and labor, would have no market at home and would lose their market abroad; they would cease to be produced. Thus even the most roundabout foreign trade of consumption may sometimes be as necessary to maintain the country’s productive labor and the value of its annual produce as the most direct.
When a country’s capital stock has grown so large that it cannot all be employed in supplying its own consumption and maintaining its own productive labor, the surplus naturally spills into the carrying trade, performing the same services for other countries. The carrying trade is the natural effect and sign of great national wealth, but does not seem to be its natural cause. Statesmen inclined to give it special encouragement seem to have mistaken the effect and sign for the cause. Accordingly, Holland, by far the richest European country relative to its area and population, has the greatest share of Europe’s carrying trade. England, perhaps Europe’s second-richest country, is also thought to have a considerable share, though much of what is commonly called its carrying trade will often, perhaps, prove to be merely a roundabout foreign trade of consumption. This is largely true of trades that carry goods from the East and West Indies and America to various European markets. Those goods are generally bought either directly with the products of British industry or with something bought with those products, and the final returns from these trades are generally used or consumed in Great Britain. Trade conducted in British ships among Mediterranean ports, and some similar trade conducted by British merchants among the ports of India, perhaps constitute the chief branches of Great Britain’s carrying trade properly so called.
The extent of the home trade, and of the capital that can be employed in it, is necessarily limited by the value of the surplus produce of all the distant places within the country that need to exchange their respective products with one another. The foreign trade of consumption is limited by the value of the whole country’s surplus produce and of what can be bought with it. The carrying trade is limited by the value of the surplus produce of all the different countries in the world. Its possible extent, therefore, is virtually infinite beside that of the other two, and it can absorb the largest capitals.
The prospect of his own private profit is the sole motive that determines whether the owner of capital employs it in agriculture, manufacturing, or a particular branch of wholesale or retail trade. The different quantities of productive labor it may set in motion, and the different values it may add to society’s annual produce of land and labor when employed in one or another of these ways, never enter his mind. In countries where agriculture is the most profitable employment, and farming and improvement are the most direct roads to a splendid fortune, individuals’ capitals will naturally be employed in the manner most advantageous to society as a whole. The profits of agriculture, however, appear no higher than those of other employments anywhere in Europe. Speculative promoters in every corner of Europe have entertained the public in recent years with magnificent accounts of the profits to be made from cultivating and improving land. Without examining their calculations in detail, a simple observation may convince us that their conclusions must be false. Every day we see magnificent fortunes made through trade and manufacturing in a single lifetime, often from very little capital and sometimes from none. Perhaps not one such fortune has been made through agriculture in the same time and from such capital anywhere in Europe during the present century. Yet in all Europe’s great countries much good land remains uncultivated, and most cultivated land has not been improved nearly as much as it could be. Agriculture can therefore absorb far more capital almost everywhere than has yet been employed in it. I shall explain at length in the next two books what circumstances of European policy have given trades pursued in towns such a great advantage over the trade pursued in the countryside that private individuals often find it more profitable to employ their capitals in the most distant carrying trades of Asia and America than in improving and cultivating the most fertile fields in their own neighborhood.
Book III, Chapter I
18th-century English
OF THE DIFFERENT PROGRESS OF OPULENCE IN DIFFERENT NATIONS
OF THE NATURAL PROGRESS OF OPULENCE.
The great commerce of every civilized society is that carried on between the inhabitants of the town and those of the country. It consists in the exchange of rude for manufactured produce, either immediately, or by the intervention of money, or of some sort of paper which represents money. The country supplies the town with the means of subsistence and the materials of manufacture. The town repays this supply, by sending back a part of the manufactured produce to the inhabitants of the country. The town, in which there neither is nor can be any reproduction of substances, may very properly be said to gain its whole wealth and subsistence from the country. We must not, however, upon this account, imagine that the gain of the town is the loss of the country. The gains of both are mutual and reciprocal, and the division of labour is in this, as in all other cases, advantageous to all the different persons employed in the various occupations into which it is subdivided. The inhabitants of the country purchase of the town a greater quantity of manufactured goods with the produce of a much smaller quantity of their own labour, than they must have employed had they attempted to prepare them themselves. The town affords a market for the surplus produce of the country, or what is over and above the maintenance of the cultivators; and it is there that the inhabitants of the country exchange it for something else which is in demand among them. The greater the number and revenue of the inhabitants of the town, the more extensive is the market which it affords to those of the country; and the more extensive that market, it is always the more advantageous to a great number. The corn which grows within a mile of the town, sells there for the same price with that which comes from twenty miles distance. But the price of the latter must, generally, not only pay the expense of raising it and bringing it to market, but afford, too, the ordinary profits of agriculture to the farmer. The proprietors and cultivators of the country, therefore, which lies in the neighbourhood of the town, over and above the ordinary profits of agriculture, gain, in the price of what they sell, the whole value of the carriage of the like produce that is brought from more distant parts; and they save, besides, the whole value of this carriage in the price of what they buy. Compare the cultivation of the lands in the neighbourhood of any considerable town, with that of those which lie at some distance from it, and you will easily satisfy yourself how much the country is benefited by the commerce of the town. Among all the absurd speculations that have been propagated concerning the balance of trade, it has never been pretended that either the country loses by its commerce with the town, or the town by that with the country which maintains it.
As subsistence is, in the nature of things, prior to conveniency and luxury, so the industry which procures the former, must necessarily be prior to that which ministers to the latter. The cultivation and improvement of the country, therefore, which affords subsistence, must, necessarily, be prior to the increase of the town, which furnishes only the means of conveniency and luxury. It is the surplus produce of the country only, or what is over and above the maintenance of the cultivators, that constitutes the subsistence of the town, which can therefore increase only with the increase of the surplus produce. The town, indeed, may not always derive its whole subsistence from the country in its neighbourhood, or even from the territory to which it belongs, but from very distant countries; and this, though it forms no exception from the general rule, has occasioned considerable variations in the progress of opulence in different ages and nations.
That order of things which necessity imposes, in general, though not in every particular country, is in every particular country promoted by the natural inclinations of man. If human institutions had never thwarted those natural inclinations, the towns could nowhere have increased beyond what the improvement and cultivation of the territory in which they were situated could support; till such time, at least, as the whole of that territory was completely cultivated and improved. Upon equal, or nearly equal profits, most men will choose to employ their capitals, rather in the improvement and cultivation of land, than either in manufactures or in foreign trade. The man who employs his capital in land, has it more under his view and command; and his fortune is much less liable to accidents than that of the trader, who is obliged frequently to commit it, not only to the winds and the waves, but to the more uncertain elements of human folly and injustice, by giving great credits, in distant countries, to men with whose character and situation he can seldom be thoroughly acquainted. The capital of the landlord, on the contrary, which is fixed in the improvement of his land, seems to be as well secured as the nature of human affairs can admit of. The beauty of the country, besides, the pleasure of a country life, the tranquillity of mind which it promises, and, wherever the injustice of human laws does not disturb it, the independency which it really affords, have charms that, more or less, attract everybody; and as to cultivate the ground was the original destination of man, so, in every stage of his existence, he seems to retain a predilection for this primitive employment.
Without the assistance of some artificers, indeed, the cultivation of land cannot be carried on, but with great inconveniency and continual interruption. Smiths, carpenters, wheelwrights and ploughwrights, masons and bricklayers, tanners, shoemakers, and tailors, are people whose service the farmer has frequent occasion for. Such artificers, too, stand occasionally in need of the assistance of one another; and as their residence is not, like that of the farmer, necessarily tied down to a precise spot, they naturally settle in the neighbourhood of one another, and thus form a small town or village. The butcher, the brewer, and the baker, soon join them, together with many other artificers and retailers, necessary or useful for supplying their occasional wants, and who contribute still further to augment the town. The inhabitants of the town, and those of the country, are mutually the servants of one another. The town is a continual fair or market, to which the inhabitants of the country resort, in order to exchange their rude for manufactured produce. It is this commerce which supplies the inhabitants of the town, both with the materials of their work, and the means of their subsistence. The quantity of the finished work which they sell to the inhabitants of the country, necessarily regulates the quantity of the materials and provisions which they buy. Neither their employment nor subsistence, therefore, can augment, but in proportion to the augmentation of the demand from the country for finished work; and this demand can augment only in proportion to the extension of improvement and cultivation. Had human institutions, therefore, never disturbed the natural course of things, the progressive wealth and increase of the towns would, in every political society, be consequential, and in proportion to the improvement and cultivation of the territory of country.
In our North American colonies, where uncultivated land is still to be had upon easy terms, no manufactures for distant sale have ever yet been established in any of their towns. When an artificer has acquired a little more stock than is necessary for carrying on his own business in supplying the neighbouring country, he does not, in North America, attempt to establish with it a manufacture for more distant sale, but employs it in the purchase and improvement of uncultivated land. From artificer he becomes planter; and neither the large wages nor the easy subsistence which that country affords to artificers, can bribe him rather to work for other people than for himself. He feels that an artificer is the servant of his customers, from whom he derives his subsistence; but that a planter who cultivates his own land, and derives his necessary subsistence from the labour of his own family, is really a master, and independent of all the world.
In countries, on the contrary, where there is either no uncultivated land, or none that can be had upon easy terms, every artificer who has acquired more stock than he can employ in the occasional jobs of the neighbourhood, endeavours to prepare work for more distant sale. The smith erects some sort of iron, the weaver some sort of linen or woollen manufactory. Those different manufactures come, in process of time, to be gradually subdivided, and thereby improved and refined in a great variety of ways, which may easily be conceived, and which it is therefore unnecessary to explain any farther.
In seeking for employment to a capital, manufactures are, upon equal or nearly equal profits, naturally preferred to foreign commerce, for the same reason that agriculture is naturally preferred to manufactures. As the capital of the landlord or farmer is more secure than that of the manufacturer, so the capital of the manufacturer, being at all times more within his view and command, is more secure than that of the foreign merchant. In every period, indeed, of every society, the surplus part both of the rude and manufactured produce, or that for which there is no demand at home, must be sent abroad, in order to be exchanged for something for which there is some demand at home. But whether the capital which carries this surplus produce abroad be a foreign or a domestic one, is of very little importance. If the society has not acquired sufficient capital, both to cultivate all its lands, and to manufacture in the completest manner the whole of its rude produce, there is even a considerable advantage that the rude produce should be exported by a foreign capital, in order that the whole stock of the society may be employed in more useful purposes. The wealth of ancient Egypt, that of China and Indostan, sufficiently demonstrate that a nation may attain a very high degree of opulence, though the greater part of its exportation trade be carried on by foreigners. The progress of our North American and West Indian colonies, would have been much less rapid, had no capital but what belonged to themselves been employed in exporting their surplus produce.
According to the natural course of things, therefore, the greater part of the capital of every growing society is, first, directed to agriculture, afterwards to manufactures, and, last of all, to foreign commerce. This order of things is so very natural, that in every society that had any territory, it has always, I believe, been in some degree observed. Some of their lands must have been cultivated before any considerable towns could be established, and some sort of coarse industry of the manufacturing kind must have been carried on in those towns, before they could well think of employing themselves in foreign commerce.
But though this natural order of things must have taken place in some degree in every such society, it has, in all the modern states of Europe, been in many respects entirely inverted. The foreign commerce of some of their cities has introduced all their finer manufactures, or such as were fit for distant sale; and manufactures and foreign commerce together have given birth to the principal improvements of agriculture. The manners and customs which the nature of their original government introduced, and which remained after that government was greatly altered, necessarily forced them into this unnatural and retrograde order.
English
ON THE DIFFERENT PROGRESS OF OPULENCE IN DIFFERENT NATIONS
ON THE NATURAL PROGRESS OF OPULENCE
The chief commerce of every civilized society takes place between the inhabitants of town and country. It consists of exchanging raw for manufactured produce, whether directly or through money or some paper representing money. The country supplies the town with subsistence and materials for manufacture. The town repays that supply by sending back some of its manufactured produce to the country’s inhabitants. The town, where nothing of substance is or can be reproduced, may rightly be said to draw all its wealth and subsistence from the country. We must not suppose, however, that the town’s gain is therefore the country’s loss. Their gains are mutual and reciprocal; the division of labor, here as everywhere, benefits all those employed in the various occupations into which it is divided. With the produce of much less of their own labor than they would need to make such things themselves, country people buy a greater quantity of manufactured goods from the town. The town offers a market for the country’s surplus produce, beyond what sustains its cultivators; there the country’s inhabitants exchange that surplus for things they want. The more numerous and prosperous the town’s inhabitants, the larger the market they offer the country; and a larger market is always more beneficial to a great many people. Corn grown a mile from town sells there at the same price as corn brought from twenty miles away. Yet the price of the latter must ordinarily cover not only the expense of raising and transporting it but also the farmer’s ordinary agricultural profit. Thus the owners and cultivators of land near town receive, beyond their ordinary agricultural profit, the entire value of transporting comparable produce from farther away in the price of what they sell; and they also save the whole cost of that transport in the price of what they buy. Compare cultivation around any considerable town with cultivation farther away, and you will readily see how greatly the country benefits from commerce with the town. Among all the absurd speculations circulated about the balance of trade, nobody has ever claimed that the country loses by trading with the town, or the town by trading with the country that sustains it.
As subsistence by nature precedes convenience and luxury, so the industry that provides subsistence must precede the industry that supplies the others. The cultivation and improvement of the country, which provides subsistence, must therefore precede the growth of the town, which supplies only convenience and luxury. Only the country’s surplus produce, what remains after its cultivators are sustained, feeds the town; the town can therefore grow only as that surplus grows. A town may, indeed, obtain its subsistence not from its neighboring countryside, or even from its own territory, but from very distant countries. Though no exception to the general rule, this has brought about considerable differences in the progress of opulence across ages and nations.
The order generally imposed by necessity, though not in every particular country, is favored in every particular country by people’s natural inclinations. Had human institutions never thwarted those inclinations, towns could nowhere have grown beyond what the cultivation and improvement of their own territory could support, at least until that territory had been completely cultivated and improved. Given equal or nearly equal profits, most people choose to employ their capital in cultivating and improving land rather than in manufacturing or foreign trade. A man who puts capital into land can better observe and control it, and his fortune is far less exposed to chance than the trader’s, who must often entrust it not only to winds and waves but to the still less predictable forces of human folly and injustice, extending large amounts of credit in distant countries to men whose character and circumstances he can seldom know thoroughly. By contrast, a landlord’s capital, fixed in improvements to his land, seems as secure as human affairs permit. Moreover, the beauty of the countryside, the pleasures of country life, the peace of mind it promises, and the independence it truly affords wherever unjust human laws do not interfere, have charms that attract everyone to some degree. Cultivating the earth was humanity’s original calling, and at every stage of life people seem to retain a preference for this ancient occupation.
Without the help of artisans, admittedly, land cannot be cultivated without great inconvenience and constant interruption. Farmers often need the services of smiths, carpenters, makers of wheels and plows, masons, bricklayers, tanners, shoemakers, and tailors. These artisans also need one another’s help from time to time. Since, unlike farmers, they need not live on one particular spot, they naturally settle near one another and form a small town or village. The butcher, brewer, and baker soon join them, along with many other artisans and retailers needed or useful to meet their occasional wants, enlarging the town still further. Town and country inhabitants thus serve one another. The town is a permanent fair or market where country inhabitants exchange raw for manufactured produce. This commerce gives town inhabitants both the materials of their work and their subsistence. The quantity of finished work they sell to the country necessarily determines how much material and food they can buy. Their employment and subsistence can therefore grow only in proportion to the country’s demand for finished goods, and that demand can grow only as cultivation and improvement spread. Had human institutions never disrupted the natural course of things, the growing wealth and size of towns in every political society would thus have followed, and kept pace with, the cultivation and improvement of the surrounding country.
In our North American colonies, where uncultivated land can still be obtained on easy terms, none of their towns has yet established manufactures for distant sale. Once an artisan has acquired a little more stock than he needs to carry on his own business supplying the neighboring countryside, in North America he does not invest it in manufacturing for distant markets. He buys and improves uncultivated land instead. The artisan becomes a planter; neither the high wages nor the easy subsistence available to artisans there can persuade him to work for others rather than himself. He feels that an artisan serves his customers, on whom his livelihood depends, whereas a planter who cultivates his own land and obtains his necessities from his family’s labor is truly his own master, independent of everyone.
By contrast, in countries with no uncultivated land, or none available on easy terms, every artisan who has acquired more stock than he can employ on occasional local jobs tries to produce goods for more distant sale. The smith sets up some sort of iron manufactory, the weaver one for linen or wool. In time these various manufactures are gradually subdivided and thereby improved and refined in many ways that are easy to imagine and need no further explanation.
When seeking employment for capital, people naturally prefer manufactures to foreign commerce at equal or nearly equal profits, for the same reason that they prefer agriculture to manufactures. Just as a landlord’s or farmer’s capital is safer than a manufacturer’s, so a manufacturer’s capital, always more under his own eye and control, is safer than a foreign merchant’s. At every stage of every society, of course, surplus raw and manufactured produce for which there is no domestic demand must be sent abroad and exchanged for something wanted at home. But whether the capital carrying that surplus abroad is domestic or foreign matters very little. If a society has not enough capital both to cultivate all its land and to manufacture all its raw produce as fully as possible, it is positively advantageous to have foreigners export the raw produce, so that the society’s entire stock can be put to more useful purposes. The wealth of ancient Egypt, China, and Indostan shows clearly that a nation can attain great opulence even though foreigners conduct most of its export trade. Our North American and West Indian colonies would have advanced far less rapidly if only their own capital had been employed in exporting their surplus produce.
In the natural course of things, then, most of the capital of every growing society goes first to agriculture, then to manufactures, and last to foreign commerce. This order is so natural that I believe it has always been followed to some extent in every society possessing territory. Some land had to be cultivated before any substantial towns could arise, and some coarse manufacturing had to be carried on in those towns before their people could seriously turn to foreign commerce.
Yet although this natural order must have prevailed to some extent in every such society, it has in many respects been entirely reversed in all the modern states of Europe. Foreign commerce in some of their cities brought in all their finer manufactures, those suited to distant sale; then manufacturing and foreign commerce together gave rise to the principal improvements in agriculture. The manners and customs introduced by their original form of government, persisting long after that government had greatly changed, necessarily drove them into this unnatural, backward order.
Book III, Chapter II, 1
18th-century English
OF THE DISCOURAGEMENT OF AGRICULTURE IN THE ANCIENT STATE OF EUROPE, AFTER THE FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
When the German and Scythian nations overran the western provinces of the Roman empire, the confusions which followed so great a revolution lasted for several centuries. The rapine and violence which the barbarians exercised against the ancient inhabitants, interrupted the commerce between the towns and the country. The towns were deserted, and the country was left uncultivated; and the western provinces of Europe, which had enjoyed a considerable degree of opulence under the Roman empire, sunk into the lowest state of poverty and barbarism. During the continuance of those confusions, the chiefs and principal leaders of those nations acquired, or usurped to themselves, the greater part of the lands of those countries. A great part of them was uncultivated; but no part of them, whether cultivated or uncultivated, was left without a proprietor. All of them were engrossed, and the greater part by a few great proprietors.
This original engrossing of uncultivated lands, though a great, might have been but a transitory evil. They might soon have been divided again, and broke into small parcels, either by succession or by alienation. The law of primogeniture hindered them from being divided by succession; the introduction of entails prevented their being broke into small parcels by alienation.
When land, like moveables, is considered as the means only of subsistence and enjoyment, the natural law of succession divides it, like them, among all the children of the family; of all of whom the subsistence and enjoyment may be supposed equally dear to the father. This natural law of succession, accordingly, took place among the Romans who made no more distinction between elder and younger, between male and female, in the inheritance of lands, than we do in the distribution of moveables. But when land was considered as the means, not of subsistence merely, but of power and protection, it was thought better that it should descend undivided to one. In those disorderly times, every great landlord was a sort of petty prince. His tenants were his subjects. He was their judge, and in some respects their legislator in peace and their leader in war. He made war according to his own discretion, frequently against his neighbours, and sometimes against his sovereign. The security of a landed estate, therefore, the protection which its owner could afford to those who dwelt on it, depended upon its greatness. To divide it was to ruin it, and to expose every part of it to be oppressed and swallowed up by the incursions of its neighbours. The law of primogeniture, therefore, came to take place, not immediately indeed, but in process of time, in the succession of landed estates, for the same reason that it has generally taken place in that of monarchies, though not always at their first institution. That the power, and consequently the security of the monarchy, may not be weakened by division, it must descend entire to one of the children. To which of them so important a preference shall be given, must be determined by some general rule, founded not upon the doubtful distinctions of personal merit, but upon some plain and evident difference which can admit of no dispute. Among the children of the same family there can be no indisputable difference but that of sex, and that of age. The male sex is universally preferred to the female; and when all other things are equal, the elder everywhere takes place of the younger. Hence the origin of the right of primogeniture, and of what is called lineal succession.
Laws frequently continue in force long after the circumstances which first gave occasion to them, and which could alone render them reasonable, are no more. In the present state of Europe, the proprietor of a single acre of land is as perfectly secure in his possession as the proprietor of 100,000. The right of primogeniture, however, still continues to be respected; and as of all institutions it is the fittest to support the pride of family distinctions, it is still likely to endure for many centuries. In every other respect, nothing can be more contrary to the real interest of a numerous family, than a right which, in order to enrich one, beggars all the rest of the children.
Entails are the natural consequences of the law of primogeniture. They were introduced to preserve a certain lineal succession, of which the law of primogeniture first gave the idea, and to hinder any part of the original estate from being carried out of the proposed line, either by gift, or device, or alienation; either by the folly, or by the misfortune of any of its successive owners. They were altogether unknown to the Romans. Neither their substitutions, nor fidei commisses, bear any resemblance to entails, though some French lawyers have thought proper to dress the modern institution in the language and garb of those ancient ones.
When great landed estates were a sort of principalities, entails might not be unreasonable. Like what are called the fundamental laws of some monarchies, they might frequently hinder the security of thousands from being endangered by the caprice or extravagance of one man. But in the present state of Europe, when small as well as great estates derive their security from the laws of their country, nothing can be more completely absurd. They are founded upon the most absurd of all suppositions, the supposition that every successive generation of men have not an equal right to the earth, and to all that it possesses; but that the property of the present generation should be restrained and regulated according to the fancy of those who died, perhaps five hundred years ago. Entails, however, are still respected, through the greater part of Europe; In those countries, particularly, in which noble birth is a necessary qualification for the enjoyment either of civil or military honours. Entails are thought necessary for maintaining this exclusive privilege of the nobility to the great offices and honours of their country; and that order having usurped one unjust advantage over the rest of their fellow-citizens, lest their poverty should render it ridiculous, it is thought reasonable that they should have another. The common law of England, indeed, is said to abhor perpetuities, and they are accordingly more restricted there than in any other European monarchy; though even England is not altogether without them. In Scotland, more than one fifth, perhaps more than one third part of the whole lands in the country, are at present supposed to be under strict entail.
Great tracts of uncultivated land were in this manner not only engrossed by particular families, but the possibility of their being divided again was as much as possible precluded for ever. It seldom happens, however, that a great proprietor is a great improver. In the disorderly times which gave birth to those barbarous institutions, the great proprietor was sufficiently employed in defending his own territories, or in extending his jurisdiction and authority over those of his neighbours. He had no leisure to attend to the cultivation and improvement of land. When the establishment of law and order afforded him this leisure, he often wanted the inclination, and almost always the requisite abilities. If the expense of his house and person either equalled or exceeded his revenue, as it did very frequently, he had no stock to employ in this manner. If he was an economist, he generally found it more profitable to employ his annual savings in new purchases than in the improvement of his old estate. To improve land with profit, like all other commercial projects, requires an exact attention to small savings and small gains, of which a man born to a great fortune, even though naturally frugal, is very seldom capable. The situation of such a person naturally disposes him to attend rather to ornament, which pleases his fancy, than to profit, for which he has so little occasion. The elegance of his dress, of his equipage, of his house and household furniture, are objects which, from his infancy, he has been accustomed to have some anxiety about. The turn of mind which this habit naturally forms, follows him when he comes to think of the improvement of land. He embellishes, perhaps, four or five hundred acres in the neighbourhood of his house, at ten times the expense which the land is worth after all his improvements; and finds, that if he was to improve his whole estate in the same manner, and he has little taste for any other, he would be a bankrupt before he had finished the tenth part of it. There still remain, in both parts of the united kingdom, some great estates which have continued, without interruption, in the hands of the same family since the times of feudal anarchy. Compare the present condition of those estates with the possessions of the small proprietors in their neighbourhood, and you will require no other argument to convince you how unfavourable such extensive property is to improvement.
If little improvement was to be expected from such great proprietors, still less was to be hoped for from those who occupied the land under them. In the ancient state of Europe, the occupiers of land were all tenants at will. They were all, or almost all, slaves, but their slavery was of a milder kind than that known among the ancient Greeks and Romans, or even in our West Indian colonies. They were supposed to belong more directly to the land than to their master. They could, therefore, be sold with it, but not separately. They could marry, provided it was with the consent of their master; and he could not afterwards dissolve the marriage by selling the man and wife to different persons. If he maimed or murdered any of them, he was liable to some penalty, though generally but to a small one. They were not, however, capable of acquiring property. Whatever they acquired was acquired to their master, and he could take it from them at pleasure. Whatever cultivation and improvement could be carried on by means of such slaves, was properly carried on by their master. It was at his expense. The seed, the cattle, and the instruments of husbandry, were all his. It was for his benefit. Such slaves could acquire nothing but their daily maintenance. It was properly the proprietor himself, therefore, that in this case occupied his own lands, and cultivated them by his own bondmen. This species of slavery still subsists in Russia, Poland, Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, and other parts of Germany. It is only in the western and south-western provinces of Europe that it has gradually been abolished altogether.
But if great improvements are seldom to be expected from great proprietors, they are least of all to be expected when they employ slaves for their workmen. The experience of all ages and nations, I believe, demonstrates that the work done by slaves, though it appears to cost only their maintenance, is in the end the dearest of any. A person who can acquire no property can have no other interest but to eat as much and to labour as little as possible. Whatever work he does beyond what is sufficient to purchase his own maintenance, can be squeezed out of him by violence only, and not by any interest of his own. In ancient Italy, how much the cultivation of corn degenerated, how unprofitable it became to the master, when it fell under the management of slaves, is remarked both by Pliny and Columella. In the time of Aristotle, it had not been much better in ancient Greece. Speaking of the ideal republic described in the laws of Plato, to maintain 5000 idle men (the number of warriors supposed necessary for its defence), together with their women and servants, would require, he says, a territory of boundless extent and fertility, like the plains of Babylon.
The pride of man makes him love to domineer, and nothing mortifies him so much as to be obliged to condescend to persuade his inferiors. Wherever the law allows it, and the nature of the work can afford it, therefore, he will generally prefer the service of slaves to that of freemen. The planting of sugar and tobacco can afford the expense of slave cultivation. The raising of corn, it seems, in the present times, cannot. In the English colonies, of which the principal produce is corn, the far greater part of the work is done by freemen. The late resolution of the Quakers in Pennsylvania, to set at liberty all their negro slaves, may satisfy us that their number cannot be very great. Had they made any considerable part of their property, such a resolution could never have been agreed to. In our sugar colonies., on the contrary, the whole work is done by slaves, and in our tobacco colonies a very great part of it. The profits of a sugar plantation in any of our West Indian colonies, are generally much greater than those of any other cultivation that is known either in Europe or America; and the profits of a tobacco plantation, though inferior to those of sugar, are superior to those of corn, as has already been observed. Both can afford the expense of slave cultivation but sugar can afford it still better than tobacco. The number of negroes, accordingly, is much greater, in proportion to that of whites, in our sugar than in our tobacco colonies.
To the slave cultivators of ancient times gradually succeeded a species of farmers, known at present in France by the name of metayers. They are called in Latin Coloni Partiarii. They have been so long in disuse in England, that at present I know no English name for them. The proprietor furnished them with the seed, cattle, and instruments of husbandry, the whole stock, in short, necessary for cultivating the farm. The produce was divided equally between the proprietor and the farmer, after setting aside what was judged necessary for keeping up the stock, which was restored to the proprietor, when the farmer either quitted or was turned out of the farm.
English
ON THE DISCOURAGEMENT OF AGRICULTURE IN THE ANCIENT STATE OF EUROPE, AFTER THE FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE
When the German and Scythian nations overran the western provinces of the Roman empire, the turmoil following so great a revolution lasted several centuries. The plunder and violence the barbarians inflicted on the earlier inhabitants interrupted commerce between town and country. Towns were abandoned and the countryside left uncultivated; the western provinces of Europe, which had enjoyed considerable opulence under the Roman empire, fell into the deepest poverty and barbarism. Amid this turmoil, the chiefs and principal leaders of those nations acquired, or usurped, most of the land. Much of it lay uncultivated, but none of it, cultivated or otherwise, remained without an owner. All of it was monopolized, most by a few great proprietors.
This original monopolization of uncultivated land, though a great evil, might have been temporary. The land could soon have been divided again into small parcels, through inheritance or sale. Primogeniture prevented division by inheritance; entails prevented division into small parcels through sale.
When land, like movable property, is regarded simply as a means of subsistence and enjoyment, the natural rule of inheritance distributes it, like movables, among all the family’s children: a father may be presumed to care equally for the subsistence and enjoyment of each. This natural rule prevailed among the Romans, who made no greater distinction between older and younger, male and female, in inheriting land than we make in distributing movables. But when land came to be regarded as a source not merely of subsistence but of power and protection, it seemed better for it to pass undivided to one heir. In those lawless times every great landlord was a petty prince. His tenants were his subjects. He judged them and was in some respects their lawgiver in peace and their commander in war. He made war at his own discretion, often against his neighbors and sometimes against his sovereign. The security of a landed estate, therefore, and the protection its owner could give those living on it, depended on its size. To divide it was to ruin it and expose each part to oppression and absorption by neighboring incursions. Thus primogeniture came in time, though not immediately, to govern landed inheritance for the same reason it has generally governed monarchies, though not necessarily at their founding. To keep the monarchy’s power and therefore its security from being diminished by division, it must pass intact to one child. A general rule must decide which child receives so great a preference, based not on debatable claims of personal merit but on some plain difference admitting no dispute. Among siblings, only sex and age are beyond dispute. Males are universally preferred to females; other things being equal, the older everywhere takes precedence over the younger. This is the origin of primogeniture and what is called lineal succession.
Laws often survive long after the circumstances that occasioned them and alone could justify them have disappeared. In Europe today, the owner of a single acre is as secure in its possession as the owner of 100,000. Yet primogeniture remains honored; since no institution better sustains the pride of family distinction, it is likely to endure for centuries more. In every other respect, nothing could be more opposed to the real interests of a numerous family than a rule that enriches one child by impoverishing all the rest.
Entails naturally follow primogeniture. They were introduced to preserve the line of succession conceived under primogeniture and prevent any part of the original estate from passing outside that line by gift, devise, or sale, through the folly or misfortune of any successive owner. The Romans knew nothing of them. Neither Roman substitutions nor fidei commisses resemble entails, though certain French lawyers have seen fit to clothe this modern institution in the terminology and appearance of the ancient ones.
When great estates were virtual principalities, entails might not have been unreasonable. Like the so-called fundamental laws of certain monarchies, they might often protect thousands of people from the risks posed by one man’s whim or extravagance. But in Europe today, when both small and large estates draw their security from national law, nothing could be more thoroughly absurd. Entails rest on the most absurd of all assumptions: that successive generations do not have an equal right to the earth and everything it possesses, but that the property of the living should be constrained and governed by the wishes of people who died perhaps five hundred years ago. Yet entails remain respected across much of Europe, especially where noble birth is required to enjoy civil or military honors. They are thought necessary to preserve the nobility’s exclusive claim to their country’s highest offices and honors; having usurped one unjust advantage over their fellow citizens, the nobility is thought entitled to another lest poverty make the first look ridiculous. English common law is said to abhor perpetuities, which are accordingly more restricted there than in any other European monarchy; even England, however, is not wholly without them. In Scotland, more than one fifth, perhaps more than one third, of all the country’s land is now believed to be held under strict entail.
In this way great expanses of uncultivated land were not only monopolized by particular families, but every possible obstacle was put in the way of ever dividing them again. A great proprietor, however, is seldom a great improver. In the lawless times that produced those barbarous institutions, he was busy defending his territory or extending his jurisdiction and authority over his neighbors’ territories. He had no leisure to cultivate and improve his land. Once law and order afforded him leisure, he often lacked the desire and almost always the necessary ability. If his household and personal expenses equaled or exceeded his revenue, as they frequently did, he had no stock to invest in improvement. If he was thrifty, he generally found it more profitable to spend his annual savings buying more land than improving his existing estate. Profitable land improvement, like any commercial undertaking, calls for close attention to small savings and gains, something a man born to a great fortune is rarely capable of, however frugal by nature. His situation inclines him toward ornament, which gratifies his taste, rather than profit, which he scarcely needs. From childhood he has been accustomed to concern himself with the elegance of his clothes, carriage, house, and furnishings. That cast of mind follows him into the improvement of land. He may beautify four or five hundred acres around his house at ten times the value of the land even after improvement; and he discovers that, if he treated his entire estate in the same way—and he has little taste for any other—he would be bankrupt before improving a tenth of it. In both parts of the united kingdom some large estates remain in the same families without interruption since the age of feudal anarchy. Compare their present condition with that of neighboring small owners’ holdings, and you will need no further proof of how hostile such extensive property is to improvement.
If little improvement could be expected from such great owners, still less could be hoped for from those who occupied their land. In ancient Europe all occupants of land were tenants at will. All, or nearly all, were slaves, though their slavery was milder than that among the ancient Greeks and Romans, or even in our West Indian colonies. They were regarded as belonging more directly to the land than to their master. They could accordingly be sold with the land, but not apart from it. They could marry with their master’s consent, and he could not subsequently break up the marriage by selling husband and wife to different people. If he maimed or killed one, he was liable to a penalty, though generally a small one. They could not, however, acquire property. Whatever they acquired belonged to their master, who could take it whenever he pleased. Any cultivation and improvement carried out by these slaves was in fact carried out by their master and at his expense. The seed, livestock, and implements were all his; the benefit was his as well. Such slaves could acquire nothing beyond their daily subsistence. The owner himself therefore effectively occupied and cultivated his own land through his bondmen. This form of slavery still exists in Russia, Poland, Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, and other parts of Germany. Only in western and southwestern Europe has it gradually disappeared altogether.
But if great improvements can seldom be expected of great proprietors, they are least to be expected when those proprietors employ slaves. The experience of every age and nation, I believe, shows that labor performed by slaves, though it appears to cost only their maintenance, is ultimately the most expensive labor of all. Someone who cannot acquire property has no interest except in eating as much and working as little as possible. Work beyond what is necessary to earn his maintenance can be extracted from him only by force, not by any interest of his own. Pliny and Columella both note how much the cultivation of corn deteriorated in ancient Italy, and how unprofitable it became for the owner, when slaves took charge of it. Ancient Greece had fared little better by Aristotle’s time. Discussing the ideal republic described in Plato’s laws, Aristotle says that supporting 5000 idle men—the number of warriors thought necessary to defend it—along with their women and servants, would require a territory of limitless extent and fertility, like the plains of Babylon.
Human pride loves to dominate, and nothing so humiliates a man as having to stoop to persuade his inferiors. Wherever the law permits it and the work can bear the expense, he will therefore generally prefer slaves to free workers. Growing sugar and tobacco can bear the cost of slave cultivation. Growing corn nowadays, it seems, cannot. In the English colonies whose chief produce is corn, by far the greater part of the work is done by free people. The Quakers’ recent decision in Pennsylvania to free all their negro slaves may convince us that their number cannot be very large: had these slaves made up any considerable part of Quaker property, such a resolution could never have passed. In our sugar colonies, by contrast, slaves do all the work; in our tobacco colonies they do a very large part. A sugar plantation in any of our West Indian colonies generally earns much higher profits than any other known cultivation in Europe or America. Tobacco plantations earn less than sugar plantations, but more than corn, as already noted. Both crops can bear the expense of slavery, but sugar can bear it better than tobacco. Accordingly, relative to whites, the number of negroes is much greater in our sugar colonies than in our tobacco colonies.
The slave cultivators of ancient times were gradually replaced by a kind of farmer now known in France as metayers, called Coloni Partiarii in Latin. They have fallen so long out of use in England that I know of no present English name for them. The proprietor provided the seed, livestock, and implements—in short, all the stock necessary to cultivate the farm. Its produce was divided equally between owner and farmer after setting aside what was deemed necessary to maintain that stock, which was returned to the proprietor when the farmer left or was dismissed from the farm.
Book III, Chapter II, 2
18th-century English
Land occupied by such tenants is properly cultivated at the expense of the proprietors, as much as that occupied by slaves. There is, however, one very essential difference between them. Such tenants, being freemen, are capable of acquiring property; and having a certain proportion of the produce of the land, they have a plain interest that the whole produce should be as great as possible, in order that their own proportion may be so. A slave, on the contrary, who can acquire nothing but his maintenance, consults his own ease, by making the land produce as little as possible over and above that maintenance. It is probable that it was partly upon account of this advantage, and partly upon account of the encroachments which the sovereigns, always jealous of the great lords, gradually encouraged their villains to make upon their authority, and which seem, at least, to have been such as rendered this species of servitude altogether inconvenient, that tenure in villanage gradually wore out through the greater part of Europe. The time and manner, however, in which so important a revolution was brought about, is one of the most obscure points in modern history. The church of Rome claims great merit in it; and it is certain, that so early as the twelfth century, Alexander III. published a bull for the general emancipation of slaves. It seems, however, to have been rather a pious exhortation, than a law to which exact obedience was required from the faithful. Slavery continued to take place almost universally for several centuries afterwards, till it was gradually abolished by the joint operation of the two interests above mentioned; that of the proprietor on the one hand, and that of the sovereign on the other. A villain, enfranchised, and at the same time allowed to continue in possession of the land, having no stock of his own, could cultivate it only by means of what the landlord advanced to him, and must therefore have been what the French call a metayer.
It could never, however, be the interest even of this last species of cultivators, to lay out, in the further improvement of the land, any part of the little stock which they might save from their own share of the produce; because the landlord, who laid out nothing, was to get one half of whatever it produced. The tithe, which is but a tenth of the produce, is found to be a very great hindrance to improvement. A tax, therefore, which amounted to one half, must have been an effectual bar to it. It might be the interest of a metayer to make the land produce as much as could be brought out of it by means of the stock furnished by the proprietor; but it could never be his interest to mix any part of his own with it. In France, where five parts out of six of the whole kingdom are said to be still occupied by this species of cultivators, the proprietors complain, that their metayers take every opportunity of employing their master’s cattle rather in carriage than in cultivation; because, in the one case, they get the whole profits to themselves, in the other they share them with their landlord. This species of tenants still subsists in some parts of Scotland. They are called steel-bow tenants. Those ancient English tenants, who are said by Chief-Baron Gilbert and Dr Blackstone to have been rather bailiffs of the landlord than farmers, properly so called, were probably of the same kind.
To this species of tenantry succeeded, though by very slow degrees, farmers, properly so called, who cultivated the land with their own stock, paying a rent certain to the landlord. When such farmers have a lease for a term of years, they may sometimes find it for their interest to lay out part of their capital in the further improvement of the farm; because they may sometimes expect to recover it, with a large profit, before the expiration of the lease. The possession, even of such farmers, however, was long extremely precarious, and still is so in many parts of Europe. They could, before the expiration of their term, be legally ousted of their leases by a new purchaser; in England, even, by the fictitious action of a common recovery. If they were turned out illegally by the violence of their master, the action by which they obtained redress was extremely imperfect. It did not always reinstate them in the possession of the land, but gave them damages, which never amounted to a real loss. Even in England, the country, perhaps of Europe, where the yeomanry has always been most respected, it was not till about the 14th of Henry VII. that the action of ejectment was invented, by which the tenant recovers, not damages only, but possession, and in which his claim is not necessarily concluded by the uncertain decision of a single assize. This action has been found so effectual a remedy, that, in the modern practice, when the landlord has occasion to sue for the possession of the land, he seldom makes use of the actions which properly belong to him as a landlord, the writ of right or the writ of entry, but sues in the name of his tenant, by the writ of ejectment. In England, therefore the security of the tenant is equal to that of the proprietor. In England, besides, a lease for life of forty shillings a-year value is a freehold, and entitles the lessee to a vote for a member of parliament; and as a great part of the yeomanry have freeholds of this kind, the whole order becomes respectable to their landlords, on account of the political consideration which this gives them. There is, I believe, nowhere in Europe, except in England, any instance of the tenant building upon the land of which he had no lease, and trusting that the honour of his landlord would take no advantage of so important an improvement. Those laws and customs, so favourable to the yeomanry, have perhaps contributed more to the present grandeur of England, than all their boasted regulations of commerce taken together.
The law which secures the longest leases against successors of every kind, is, so far as I know, peculiar to Great Britain. It was introduced into Scotland so early as 1449, by a law of James II. Its beneficial influence, however, has been much obstructed by entails; the heirs of entail being generally restrained from letting leases for any long term of years, frequently for more than one year. A late act of parliament has, in this respect, somewhat slackened their fetters, though they are still by much too strait. In Scotland, besides, as no leasehold gives a vote for a member of parliament, the yeomanry are upon this account less respectable to their landlords than in England.
In other parts of Europe, after it was found convenient to secure tenants both against heirs and purchasers, the term of their security was still limited to a very short period; in France, for example, to nine years from the commencement of the lease. It has in that country, indeed, been lately extended to twentyseven, a period still too short to encourage the tenant to make the most important improvements. The proprietors of land were anciently the legislators of every part of Europe. The laws relating to land, therefore, were all calculated for what they supposed the interest of the proprietor. It was for his interest, they had imagined, that no lease granted by any of his predecessors should hinder him from enjoying, during a long term of years, the full value of his land. Avarice and injustice are always short-sighted, and they did not foresee how much this regulation must obstruct improvement, and thereby hurt, in the long-run, the real interest of the landlord.
The farmers, too, besides paying the rent, were anciently, it was supposed, bound to perform a great number of services to the landlord, which were seldom either specified in the lease, or regulated by any precise rule, but by the use and wont of the manor or barony. These services, therefore, being almost entirely arbitrary, subjected the tenant to many vexations. In Scotland the abolition of all services not precisely stipulated in the lease, has, in the course of a few years, very much altered for the better the condition of the yeomanry of that country.
The public services to which the yeomanry were bound, were not less arbitrary than the private ones. To make and maintain the high roads, a servitude which still subsists, I believe, everywhere, though with different degrees of oppression in different countries, was not the only one. When the king’s troops, when his household, or his officers of any kind, passed through any part of the country, the yeomanry were bound to provide them with horses, carriages, and provisions, at a price regulated by the purveyor. Great Britain is, I believe, the only monarchy in Europe where the oppression of purveyance has been entirely abolished. It still subsists in France and Germany.
The public taxes, to which they were subject, were as irregular and oppressive as the services. The ancient lords, though extremely unwilling to grant, themselves, any pecuniary aid to their sovereign, easily allowed him to tallage, as they called it, their tenants, and had not knowledge enough to foresee how much this must, in the end, affect their own revenue. The taille, as it still subsists in France may serve as an example of those ancient tallages. It is a tax upon the supposed profits of the farmer, which they estimate by the stock that he has upon the farm. It is his interest, therefore, to appear to have as little as possible, and consequently to employ as little as possible in its cultivation, and none in its improvement. Should any stock happen to accumulate in the hands of a French farmer, the taille is almost equal to a prohibition of its ever being employed upon the land. This tax, besides, is supposed to dishonour whoever is subject to it, and to degrade him below, not only the rank of a gentleman, but that of a burgher; and whoever rents the lands of another becomes subject to it. No gentleman, nor even any burgher, who has stock, will submit to this degradation. This tax, therefore, not only hinders the stock which accumulates upon the land from being employed in its improvement, but drives away all other stock from it. The ancient tenths and fifteenths, so usual in England in former times, seem, so far as they affected the land, to have been taxes of the same nature with the taille.
Under all these discouragements, little improvement could be expected from the occupiers of land. That order of people, with all the liberty and security which law can give, must always improve under great disadvantage. The farmer, compared with the proprietor, is as a merchant who trades with burrowed money, compared with one who trades with his own. The stock of both may improve; but that of the one, with only equal good conduct, must always improve more slowly than that of the other, on account of the large share of the profits which is consumed by the interest of the loan. The lands cultivated by the farmer must, in the same manner, with only equal good conduct, be improved more slowly than those cultivated by the proprietor, on account of the large share of the produce which is consumed in the rent, and which, had the farmer been proprietor, he might have employed in the further improvement of the land. The station of a farmer, besides, is, from the nature of things, inferior to that of a proprietor. Through the greater part of Europe, the yeomanry are regarded as an inferior rank of people, even to the better sort of tradesmen and mechanics, and in all parts of Europe to the great merchants and master manufacturers. It can seldom happen, therefore, that a man of any considerable stock should quit the superior, in order to place himself in an inferior station. Even in the present state of Europe, therefore, little stock is likely to go from any other profession to the improvement of land in the way of farming. More does, perhaps, in Great Britain than in any other country, though even there the great stocks which are in some places employed in farming, have generally been acquired by fanning, the trade, perhaps, in which, of all others, stock is commonly acquired most slowly. After small proprietors, however, rich and great farmers are in every country the principal improvers. There are more such, perhaps, in England than in any other European monarchy. In the republican governments of Holland, and of Berne in Switzerland, the farmers are said to be not inferior to those of England.
The ancient policy of Europe was, over and above all this, unfavourable to the improvement and cultivation of land, whether carried on by the proprietor or by the farmer; first, by the general prohibition of the exportation of corn, without a special licence, which seems to have been a very universal regulation; and, secondly, by the restraints which were laid upon the inland commerce, not only of corn, but of almost every other part of the produce of the farm, by the absurd laws against engrossers, regraters, and forestallers, and by the privileges of fairs and markets. It has already been observed in what manner the prohibition of the exportation of corn, together with some encouragement given to the importation of foreign corn, obstructed the cultivation of ancient Italy, naturally the most fertile country in Europe, and at that time the seat of the greatest empire in the world. To what degree such restraints upon the inland commerce of this commodity, joined to the general prohibition of exportation, must have discouraged the cultivation of countries less fertile, and less favourably circumstanced, it is not, perhaps, very easy to imagine.
English
Land occupied by such tenants is in effect cultivated at the proprietors’ expense, just as land occupied by slaves is. There is, however, one crucial difference. These tenants are free people who can acquire property; because they receive a fixed share of the land’s produce, they have an obvious interest in making its total produce as great as possible, and thereby increasing their own share. A slave, by contrast, able to gain nothing but his maintenance, serves his own ease by making the land yield as little as possible beyond it. This advantage probably contributed to the gradual disappearance of tenure in villanage throughout most of Europe. So too did the encroachments that sovereigns, ever jealous of great lords, gradually encouraged their villains to make on those lords’ authority, apparently enough to make that form of servitude altogether impractical. Yet when and how so great a change took place remains one of the most obscure questions in modern history. The church of Rome claims much credit for it, and Alexander III. certainly issued a bull for the general emancipation of slaves as early as the twelfth century. But this seems to have been a pious exhortation rather than a law demanding strict obedience from the faithful. Slavery continued almost everywhere for several more centuries, until it was gradually abolished by the combined action of the two interests just mentioned: that of the proprietor and that of the sovereign. A villain freed while remaining on the land, without stock of his own, could cultivate it only with what his landlord supplied and must therefore have become what the French call a metayer.
Yet even such a cultivator could never have an interest in putting any of the little stock saved from his share of the produce toward further improvements to the land: the landlord, contributing nothing to this expenditure, would still receive half of everything it produced. The tithe, amounting to only a tenth of the produce, proves a serious obstacle to improvement; a charge of one half must have barred it altogether. A metayer might have an interest in obtaining the greatest possible yield from the stock provided by the proprietor, but could never have an interest in adding any of his own stock to it. In France, where cultivators of this kind are said still to occupy five parts out of six of the entire kingdom, proprietors complain that their metayers seize every chance to use their masters’ livestock for transport rather than cultivation: in transport they keep all the profits, whereas in cultivation they share them with the landlord. Such tenants still exist in parts of Scotland, where they are called steel-bow tenants. Those early English tenants whom Chief-Baron Gilbert and Dr Blackstone describe as the landlord’s bailiffs rather than farmers in the strict sense were probably of the same kind.
This form of tenancy was followed, though very slowly, by farmers properly so called: people who cultivated land with their own stock and paid the landlord a fixed rent. When they hold a lease for a term of years, such farmers may sometimes find it worthwhile to invest some capital in further improving the farm, since they can sometimes expect to recover it with a substantial profit before their lease expires. Yet even their possession remained extremely insecure for a long time, as it still is in many parts of Europe. Before their term expired, a new buyer could legally dispossess them of their leases, even in England through the legal fiction of a common recovery. If their landlord used violence to evict them unlawfully, the remedy available to them was very inadequate. It did not always restore possession, but awarded damages that never covered the real loss. Even in England, perhaps the European country where the yeomanry have always been most respected, it was only around the 14th of Henry VII. that the action of ejectment was devised. Under that action a tenant recovers possession rather than damages alone, and the claim is not necessarily settled by the uncertain decision of a single assize. This remedy has proved so effective that nowadays, when a landlord needs to sue for possession of land, he seldom employs the actions belonging properly to him as landlord—the writ of right or the writ of entry—but sues in his tenant’s name through the writ of ejectment. Thus an English tenant’s security equals a proprietor’s. Moreover, in England a life lease worth forty shillings a year counts as a freehold and gives the lessee a vote for a member of parliament. Because many yeomen have such freeholds, their political influence makes the whole class respectable in their landlords’ eyes. Nowhere else in Europe, I believe, does a tenant build on land for which he holds no lease, trusting his landlord’s honor not to take advantage of such a significant improvement. Laws and customs so favorable to the yeomanry have perhaps contributed more to England’s present greatness than all its much-vaunted commercial regulations combined.
So far as I know, the law protecting even the longest leases against every kind of successor is peculiar to Great Britain. It was established in Scotland as early as 1449 by a law of James II. Its beneficial effects, however, have been greatly hampered by entails: heirs bound by entail are generally forbidden to grant long leases, often leases longer than one year. A recent act of parliament has loosened these bonds somewhat, but they remain far too tight. Furthermore, since no Scottish leasehold confers a parliamentary vote, landlords respect Scottish yeomen less on this account than English ones.
Elsewhere in Europe, once it was found expedient to protect tenants against heirs and buyers alike, that protection was still restricted to a very short period: in France, for example, to nine years from the start of the lease. There it has recently been extended to twentyseven years, still too short to induce tenants to undertake the most important improvements. Landowners were once the lawmakers throughout Europe. Laws governing land were therefore designed around what they took to be the owner’s interest. They imagined it advantageous to him that no lease granted by a predecessor should keep him from enjoying the full value of his land for many years. Greed and injustice are always shortsighted; they failed to foresee how severely this rule would hinder improvement and thus, in the long run, damage the landlord’s true interest.
In addition to paying rent, farmers were formerly supposed to be bound to render numerous services to their landlords, seldom specified in their leases or governed by any definite rule beyond the customary practice of the manor or barony. Being almost wholly arbitrary, these services exposed tenants to many abuses. Within a few years the abolition in Scotland of all services not expressly stipulated in the lease has greatly improved the condition of that country’s yeomanry.
The public services imposed on yeomen were no less arbitrary than those owed privately. Building and maintaining the highways, a burden that I believe still exists everywhere, though with varying degrees of oppression, was not their only duty. Whenever the king’s troops, household, or officials of any kind passed through the country, yeomen had to furnish horses, vehicles, and provisions at prices fixed by the purveyor. Great Britain is, I believe, the only European monarchy where the oppression of purveyance has been completely abolished. It still persists in France and Germany.
The public taxes levied on yeomen were as irregular and oppressive as these services. The old lords were exceedingly reluctant to grant their sovereign any monetary aid themselves, but readily allowed him to tallage, as they called it, their tenants. They did not understand enough to foresee how greatly this would ultimately diminish their own revenue. The taille, still existing in France, illustrates these ancient tallages. It is a tax on a farmer’s presumed profits, assessed according to the stock on his farm. He therefore has an interest in appearing to own as little as possible and consequently investing as little as possible in cultivation, and nothing in improvement. If a French farmer should accumulate any stock, the taille virtually forbids him to employ it on the land. Moreover, this tax is held to dishonor those subject to it and lower them beneath not only gentlemen but burghers; anyone who rents another person’s land becomes liable to it. No gentleman, nor even a burgher with stock, will submit to that humiliation. Thus the tax not only prevents stock accumulated on the land from improving it but drives all other stock away. The ancient tenths and fifteenths, once so common in England, seem, to the extent that they fell on land, to have been taxes of the same nature as the taille.
With all these discouragements, little improvement could be expected of those who occupied the land. Even enjoying all the freedom and security the law can provide, this class must always improve land at a considerable disadvantage. Compared with an owner, a farmer is like a merchant trading on borrowed money compared with one trading on his own. Both may increase their stock, but with equally good management the first will always do so more slowly, because interest on the loan consumes a large share of his profits. Likewise, land cultivated by a farmer, under equally good management, must improve more slowly than land cultivated by its owner, because rent consumes a large share of the produce that the farmer, if he owned the land, could put toward its further improvement. Besides, the position of a farmer is naturally inferior to that of an owner. Across most of Europe the yeomanry are considered lower in rank even than the better class of tradesmen and mechanics, and everywhere lower than great merchants and master manufacturers. A man with considerable stock will therefore seldom leave a higher station to enter a lower one. Even in Europe today, little stock from other professions is likely to enter land improvement through farming. Perhaps more does so in Great Britain than anywhere else, though even there the large stocks invested in farming in some places have usually been acquired through farming—perhaps the trade in which stock is ordinarily acquired more slowly than in any other. After small owners, however, wealthy farmers with large holdings are the principal improvers in every country. England perhaps has more of them than any other European monarchy. In the republican governments of Holland and of Berne in Switzerland, the farmers are said to be no worse than England’s.
Beyond all this, Europe’s ancient policies discouraged cultivation and improvement by owners and farmers alike. First came the general ban on exporting corn without a special license, apparently an almost universal rule. Second came restrictions on inland trade, not merely in corn but in nearly every other farm product, through the absurd laws against engrossers, regraters, and forestallers, and through the privileges of fairs and markets. We have already seen how the prohibition on exporting corn, combined with some encouragement to import foreign corn, impeded cultivation in ancient Italy, naturally Europe’s most fertile country and then the seat of the world’s greatest empire. It may be difficult even to imagine how much those restrictions on domestic trade in corn, together with the general ban on exports, must have discouraged cultivation in countries less fertile and less favorably situated.
Book III, Chapter III, 1
18th-century English
OF THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF CITIES AND TOWNS, AFTER THE FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
The inhabitants of cities and towns were, after the fall of the Roman empire, not more favoured than those of the country. They consisted, indeed, of a very different order of people from the first inhabitants of the ancient republics of Greece and Italy. These last were composed chiefly of the proprietors of lands, among whom the public territory was originally divided, and who found it convenient to build their houses in the neighbourhood of one another, and to surround them with a wall, for the sake of common defence. After the fall of the Roman empire, on the contrary, the proprietors of land seem generally to have lived in fortified castles on their own estates, and in the midst of their own tenants and dependants. The towns were chiefly inhabited by tradesmen and mechanics, who seem, in those days, to have been of servile, or very nearly of servile condition. The privileges which we find granted by ancient charters to the inhabitants of some of the principal towns in Europe, sufficiently show what they were before those grants. The people to whom it is granted as a privilege, that they might give away their own daughters in marriage without the consent of their lord, that upon their death their own children, and not their lord, should succeed to their goods, and that they might dispose of their own effects by will, must, before those grants, have been either altogether, or very nearly, in the same state of villanage with the occupiers of land in the country.
They seem, indeed, to have been a very poor, mean set of people, who seemed to travel about with their goods from place to place, and from fair to fair, like the hawkers and pedlars of the present times. In all the different countries of Europe then, in the same manner as in several of the Tartar governments of Asia at present, taxes used to be levied upon the persons and goods of travellers, when they passed through certain manors, when they went over certain bridges, when they carried about their goods from place to place in a fair, when they erected in it a booth or stall to sell them in. These different taxes were known in England by the names of passage, pontage, lastage, and stallage. Sometimes the king, sometimes a great lord, who had, it seems, upon some occasions, authority to do this, would grant to particular traders, to such particularly as lived in their own demesnes, a general exemption from such taxes. Such traders, though in other respects of servile, or very nearly of servile condition, were upon this account called free traders. They, in return, usually paid to their protector a sort of annual poll-tax. In those days protection was seldom granted without a valuable consideration, and this tax might perhaps be considered as compensation for what their patrons might lose by their exemption from other taxes. At first, both those poll-taxes and those exemptions seem to have been altogether personal, and to have affected only particular individuals, during either their lives, or the pleasure of their protectors. In the very imperfect accounts which have been published from Doomsday-book, of several of the towns of England, mention is frequently made, sometimes of the tax which particular burghers paid, each of them, either to the king, or to some other great lord, for this sort of protection, and sometimes of the general amount only of all those taxes. {see Brady’s Historical Treatise of Cities and Boroughs, p. 3. etc.}
But how servile soever may have been originally the condition of the inhabitants of the towns, it appears evidently, that they arrived at liberty and independency much earlier than the occupiers of land in the country. That part of the king’s revenue which arose from such poll-taxes in any particular town, used commonly to be let in farm, during a term of years, for a rent certain, sometimes to the sheriff of the county, and sometimes to other persons. The burghers themselves frequently got credit enough to be admitted to farm the revenues of this sort which arose out of their own town, they becoming jointly and severally answerable for the whole rent. {See Madox, Firma Burgi, p. 18; also History of the Exchequer, chap. 10, sect. v, p. 223, first edition.} To let a farm in this manner, was quite agreeable to the usual economy of, I believe, the sovereigns of all the different countries of Europe, who used frequently to let whole manors to all the tenants of those manors, they becoming jointly and severally answerable for the whole rent; but in return being allowed to collect it in their own way, and to pay it into the king’s exchequer by the hands of their own bailiff, and being thus altogether freed from the insolence of the king’s officers; a circumstance in those days regarded as of the greatest importance.
At first, the farm of the town was probably let to the burghers, in the same manner as it had been to other farmers, for a term of years only. In process of time, however, it seems to have become the general practice to grant it to them in fee, that is for ever, reserving a rent certain, never afterwards to be augmented. The payment having thus become perpetual, the exemptions, in return, for which it was made, naturally became perpetual too. Those exemptions, therefore, ceased to be personal, and could not afterwards be considered as belonging to individuals, as individuals, but as burghers of a particular burgh, which, upon this account, was called a free burgh, for the same reason that they had been called free burghers or free traders.
Along with this grant, the important privileges, above mentioned, that they might give away their own daughters in marriage, that their children should succeed to them, and that they might dispose of their own effects by will, were generally bestowed upon the burghers of the town to whom it was given. Whether such privileges had before been usually granted, along with the freedom of trade, to particular burghers, as individuals, I know not. I reckon it not improbable that they were, though I cannot produce any direct evidence of it. But however this may have been, the principal attributes of villanage and slavery being thus taken away from them, they now at least became really free, in our present sense of the word freedom.
Nor was this all. They were generally at the same time erected into a commonalty or corporation, with the privilege of having magistrates and a town-council of their own, of making bye-laws for their own government, of building walls for their own defence, and of reducing all their inhabitants under a sort of military discipline, by obliging them to watch and ward; that is, as anciently understood, to guard and defend those walls against all attacks and surprises, by night as well as by day. In England they were generally exempted from suit to the hundred and county courts: and all such pleas as should arise among them, the pleas of the crown excepted, were left to the decision of their own magistrates. In other countries, much greater and more extensive jurisdictions were frequently granted to them. {See Madox, Firma Burgi. See also Pfeffel in the Remarkable events under Frederick II. and his Successors of the House of Suabia.}
It might, probably, be necessary to grant to such towns as were admitted to farm their own revenues, some sort of compulsive jurisdiction to oblige their own citizens to make payment. In those disorderly times, it might have been extremely inconvenient to have left them to seek this sort of justice from any other tribunal. But it must seem extraordinary, that the sovereigns of all the different countries of Europe should have exchanged in this manner for a rent certain, never more to be augmented, that branch of their revenue, which was, perhaps, of all others, the most likely to be improved by the natural course of things, without either expense or attention of their own; and that they should, besides, have in this manner voluntarily erected a sort of independent republics in the heart of their own dominions.
In order to understand this, it must be remembered, that, in those days, the sovereign of perhaps no country in Europe was able to protect, through the whole extent of his dominions, the weaker part of his subjects from the oppression of the great lords. Those whom the law could not protect, and who were not strong enough to defend themselves, were obliged either to have recourse to the protection of some great lord, and in order to obtain it, to become either his slaves or vassals; or to enter into a league of mutual defence for the common protection of one another. The inhabitants of cities and burghs, considered as single individuals, had no power to defend themselves; but by entering into a league of mutual defence with their neighbours, they were capable of making no contemptible resistance. The lords despised the burghers, whom they considered not only as a different order, but as a parcel of emancipated slaves, almost of a different species from themselves. The wealth of the burghers never failed to provoke their envy and indignation, and they plundered them upon every occasion without mercy or remorse. The burghers naturally hated and feared the lords. The king hated and feared them too; but though, perhaps, he might despise, he had no reason either to hate or fear the burghers. Mutual interest, therefore, disposed them to support the king, and the king to support them against the lords. They were the enemies of his enemies, and it was his interest to render them as secure and independent of those enemies as he could. By granting them magistrates of their own, the privilege of making bye-laws for their own government, that of building walls for their own defence, and that of reducing all their inhabitants under a sort of military discipline, he gave them all the means of security and independency of the barons which it was in his power to bestow. Without the establishment of some regular government of this kind, without some authority to compel their inhabitants to act according to some certain plan or system, no voluntary league of mutual defence could either have afforded them any permanent security, or have enabled them to give the king any considerable support. By granting them the farm of their own town in fee, he took away from those whom he wished to have for his friends, and, if one may say so, for his allies, all ground of jealousy and suspicion, that he was ever afterwards to oppress them, either by raising the farm-rent of their town, or by granting it to some other farmer.
The princes who lived upon the worst terms with their barons, seem accordingly to have been the most liberal in grants of this kind to their burghs. King John of England, for example, appears to have been a most munificent benefactor to his towns. {See Madox.} Philip I. of France lost all authority over his barons. Towards the end of his reign, his son Lewis, known afterwards by the name of Lewis the Fat, consulted, according to Father Daniel, with the bishops of the royal demesnes, concerning the most proper means of restraining the violence of the great lords. Their advice consisted of two different proposals. One was to erect a new order of jurisdiction, by establishing magistrates and a town-council in every considerable town of his demesnes. The other was to form a new militia, by making the inhabitants of those towns, under the command of their own magistrates, march out upon proper occasions to the assistance of the king. It is from this period, according to the French antiquarians, that we are to date the institution of the magistrates and councils of cities in France. It was during the unprosperous reigns of the princes of the house of Suabia, that the greater part of the free towns of Germany received the first grants of their privileges, and that the famous Hanseatic league first became formidable. {See Pfeffel.}
The militia of the cities seems, in those times, not to have been inferior to that of the country; and as they could be more readily assembled upon any sudden occasion, they frequently had the advantage in their disputes with the neighbouring lords. In countries such as Italy or Switzerland, in which, on account either of their distance from the principal seat of government, of the natural strength of the country itself, or of some other reason, the sovereign came to lose the whole of his authority; the cities generally became independent republics, and conquered all the nobility in their neighbourhood; obliging them to pull down their castles in the country, and to live, like other peaceable inhabitants, in the city. This is the short history of the republic of Berne, as well as of several other cities in Switzerland. If you except Venice, for of that city the history is somewhat different, it is the history of all the considerable Italian republics, of which so great a number arose and perished between the end of the twelfth and the beginning of the sixteenth century.
English
On the Rise and Progress of Cities and Towns After the Fall of the Roman Empire.
After the fall of the Roman Empire, the inhabitants of cities and towns were no more favored than those of the countryside. They were, indeed, a very different class of people from the first inhabitants of the ancient republics of Greece and Italy. The latter were chiefly landowners among whom the public territory had originally been divided; they found it convenient to build their houses near one another and enclose them within a wall for their common defense. After the fall of the Roman Empire, by contrast, landowners seem generally to have lived in fortified castles on their own estates, surrounded by their tenants and dependents. The towns were inhabited chiefly by tradesmen and craftsmen, who seem in those days to have been in a servile condition, or one very near it. The privileges granted to the inhabitants of some of Europe's principal towns by ancient charters show clearly what their condition had been before those grants. People who received, as privileges, the right to give their daughters in marriage without their lord's consent, to have their own children rather than their lord inherit their goods at death, and to dispose of their possessions by will, must previously have been wholly or nearly in the same state of villeinage as the occupiers of land in the countryside.
They seem, indeed, to have been a very poor and humble class, traveling with their goods from place to place and fair to fair, like today's hawkers and peddlers. Throughout the different countries of Europe at that time, just as in several Tartar governments of Asia now, taxes were levied on the persons and goods of travelers when they passed through certain manors, crossed certain bridges, carried their goods from place to place within a fair, or set up a booth or stall there to sell them. In England these different taxes were known as passage, pontage, lastage, and stallage. Sometimes the king, and sometimes a great lord who apparently had authority to do so on certain occasions, granted particular traders—especially those who lived on his own demesnes—a general exemption from such taxes. Though otherwise servile or nearly so, these traders were for that reason called free traders. In return, they usually paid their protector a kind of annual poll tax. Protection was seldom given in those days without valuable consideration, and this tax might be regarded as compensation for what their patrons lost through the exemption from other taxes. At first, both the poll taxes and the exemptions seem to have been entirely personal, applying only to particular individuals for their lifetimes or at their protectors' pleasure. The very incomplete accounts published from Doomsday-book for several English towns frequently mention either the tax paid by individual burghers, each to the king or some other great lord for such protection, or simply the total amount of all those taxes. [see Brady’s Historical Treatise of Cities and Boroughs, p. 3. etc.]
Yet however servile the townspeople's original condition may have been, they evidently gained liberty and independence much earlier than the occupiers of land in the countryside. The portion of the king's revenue arising from these poll taxes in a particular town was commonly farmed out for a fixed rent over a term of years, sometimes to the county sheriff and sometimes to other persons. The burghers themselves often gained enough credit to be allowed to farm this revenue from their own town, becoming jointly and severally liable for the entire rent. [See Madox, Firma Burgi, p. 18; also History of the Exchequer, chap. 10, sect. v, p. 223, first edition.] Farming out revenue in this way was entirely consistent with the usual practice, I believe, of sovereigns throughout Europe. They frequently farmed out whole manors to all their tenants, who became jointly and severally liable for the whole rent, but in return were allowed to collect it in their own way and pay it into the king's exchequer through their own bailiff. Thus they escaped entirely the insolence of the king's officers, a circumstance considered of the utmost importance in those days.
At first, the farm of a town was probably granted to its burghers, as to other farmers of revenue, only for a term of years. In time, however, it seems to have become general practice to grant it to them in fee—that is, forever—while reserving a fixed rent never afterward to be increased. As the payment became perpetual, the exemptions for which it was made naturally became perpetual too. These exemptions thus ceased to be personal. They could no longer be considered as belonging to individuals in their own right, but to them as burghers of a particular burgh. That burgh was accordingly called a free burgh, for the same reason that they had been called free burghers or free traders.
Along with this grant, the burghers of the town generally received the important privileges already mentioned: to give their daughters in marriage, to have their children inherit their goods, and to dispose of their possessions by will. I do not know whether such privileges had previously been granted along with freedom of trade to individual burghers. I consider it likely, although I can produce no direct evidence. In any case, once the chief marks of villeinage and slavery had been removed, they became, at least from this point onward, truly free in the sense in which we now understand freedom.
Nor was that all. They were generally made at the same time into a community or corporation, entitled to have their own magistrates and town council, make bylaws for their government, build walls for their defense, and bring all their inhabitants under a kind of military discipline by requiring them to watch and ward—that is, as the phrase was understood of old, to guard and defend those walls against attack and surprise by night and day. In England they were generally exempted from suit in the hundred and county courts; all disputes arising among them, except pleas of the crown, were left to their own magistrates to decide. In other countries they were often given much broader and more extensive jurisdictions. [See Madox, Firma Burgi. See also Pfeffel in the Remarkable events under Frederick II. and his Successors of the House of Suabia.]
Towns allowed to farm their own revenues may well have needed some power of compulsion to make their own citizens pay. In those disorderly times it might have been extremely inconvenient to require them to seek such justice from another tribunal. Yet it seems extraordinary that the sovereigns of Europe's different countries should have exchanged for a fixed rent, never to be increased, the branch of revenue perhaps most likely of all to grow through the natural course of events, without any expense or attention on their part; and extraordinary, too, that they should in this way have voluntarily established a kind of independent republic in the heart of their own domains.
To understand this, we must remember that in those days perhaps no sovereign in Europe could protect the weaker members of his realm, throughout all his domains, from the oppression of the great lords. Those whom the law could not protect, and who lacked the strength to defend themselves, had either to seek the protection of some great lord and become his slaves or vassals to obtain it, or to form an alliance for mutual defense. Individually the inhabitants of cities and burghs could not defend themselves; united with their neighbors in such an alliance, they could put up a resistance not to be despised. The lords despised the burghers, regarding them not merely as a different class but as a crowd of emancipated slaves, almost another species. The burghers' wealth invariably stirred their envy and indignation, and they plundered them at every opportunity without mercy or remorse. The burghers naturally hated and feared the lords. The king hated and feared them too; but though he might perhaps despise the burghers, he had no reason to hate or fear them. Mutual interest thus inclined the burghers to support the king and the king to support them against the lords. They were the enemies of his enemies, and he had an interest in making them as secure and independent of those enemies as he could. By granting them their own magistrates, the right to make bylaws for their government, to build defensive walls, and to place all their inhabitants under a form of military discipline, he furnished every means of security and independence from the barons that lay in his power. Without some regular government of this kind, without authority to compel the townspeople to act according to a settled plan or system, no voluntary alliance for mutual defense could have given them lasting security or enabled them to lend the king substantial support. By granting them the farm of their town in fee, he removed from those he wanted as friends—and, one might say, allies—every cause to suspect or fear that he would afterward oppress them, either by raising the farm rent of their town or by granting it to another farmer.
Accordingly, the princes on the worst terms with their barons seem to have been the most generous in grants of this kind to their burghs. King John of England, for example, appears to have been a most lavish benefactor to his towns. [See Madox.] Philip I. of France lost all authority over his barons. Toward the end of his reign, according to Father Daniel, his son Lewis, later known as Lewis the Fat, consulted the bishops of the royal demesnes on the best way to curb the violence of the great lords. They proposed two measures. One was to create a new jurisdiction by establishing magistrates and a town council in every sizable town of his demesnes. The other was to form a new militia, sending the people of those towns under their own magistrates' command to assist the king when occasion required. According to French antiquarians, the institution of city magistrates and councils in France dates from this period. During the troubled reigns of the princes of the house of Suabia, most of Germany's free towns first received their privileges, and the famous Hanseatic league first became a formidable power. [See Pfeffel.]
In those days the militia of the cities seems to have been no weaker than that of the countryside; and because it could assemble more readily in a sudden emergency, it often prevailed in disputes with neighboring lords. In countries such as Italy or Switzerland, where the sovereign lost all his authority, whether because of distance from the principal seat of government, the country's natural strength, or some other cause, the cities generally became independent republics. They conquered all the neighboring nobility, forced them to pull down their country castles, and made them live in the city like other peaceable inhabitants. This is the history, in brief, of the republic of Berne and several other Swiss cities. Except for Venice, whose history is somewhat different, it is also the history of all the major Italian republics, so many of which arose and perished between the end of the twelfth and the beginning of the sixteenth century.
Book III, Chapter III, 2
18th-century English
In countries such as France and England, where the authority of the sovereign, though frequently very low, never was destroyed altogether, the cities had no opportunity of becoming entirely independent. They became, however, so considerable, that the sovereign could impose no tax upon them, besides the stated farm-rent of the town, without their own consent. They were, therefore, called upon to send deputies to the general assembly of the states of the kingdom, where they might join with the clergy and the barons in granting, upon urgent occasions, some extraordinary aid to the king. Being generally, too, more favourable to his power, their deputies seem sometimes to have been employed by him as a counterbalance in those assemblies to the authority of the great lords. Hence the origin of the representation of burghs in the states-general of all great monarchies in Europe.
Order and good government, and along with them the liberty and security of individuals, were in this manner established in cities, at a time when the occupiers of land in the country, were exposed to every sort of violence. But men in this defenceless state naturally content themselves with their necessary subsistence; because, to acquire more, might only tempt the injustice of their oppressors. On the contrary, when they are secure of enjoying the fruits of their industry, they naturally exert it to better their condition, and to acquire not only the necessaries, but the conveniencies and elegancies of life. That industry, therefore, which aims at something more than necessary subsistence, was established in cities long before it was commonly practised by the occupiers of land in the country. If, in the hands of a poor cultivator, oppressed with the servitude of villanage, some little stock should accumulate, he would naturally conceal it with great care from his master, to whom it would otherwise have belonged, and take the first opportunity of running away to a town. The law was at that time so indulgent to the inhabitants of towns, and so desirous of diminishing the authority of the lords over those of the country, that if he could conceal himself there from the pursuit of his lord for a year, he was free for ever. Whatever stock, therefore, accumulated in the hands of the industrious part of the inhabitants of the country, naturally took refuge in cities, as the only sanctuaries in which it could be secure to the person that acquired it.
The inhabitants of a city, it is true, must always ultimately derive their subsistence, and the whole materials and means of their industry, from the country. But those of a city, situated near either the sea-coast or the banks of a navigable river, are not necessarily confined to derive them from the country in their neighbourhood. They have a much wider range, and may draw them from the most remote corners of the world, either in exchange for the manufactured produce of their own industry, or by performing the office of carriers between distant countries, and exchanging the produce of one for that of another. A city might, in this manner, grow up to great wealth and splendour, while not only the country in its neighbourhood, but all those to which it traded, were in poverty and wretchedness. Each of those countries, perhaps, taken singly, could afford it but a small part, either of its subsistence or of its employment; but all of them taken together, could afford it both a great subsistence and a great employment. There were, however, within the narrow circle of the commerce of those times, some countries that were opulent and industrious. Such was the Greek empire as long as it subsisted, and that of the Saracens during the reigns of the Abassides. Such, too, was Egypt till it was conquered by the Turks, some part of the coast of Barbary, and all those provinces of Spain which were under the government of the Moors.
The cities of Italy seem to have been the first in Europe which were raised by commerce to any considerable degree of opulence. Italy lay in the centre of what was at that time the improved and civilized part of the world. The crusades, too, though, by the great waste of stock and destruction of inhabitants which they occasioned, they must necessarily have retarded the progress of the greater part of Europe, were extremely favourable to that of some Italian cities. The great armies which marched from all parts to the conquest of the Holy Land, gave extraordinary encouragement to the shipping of Venice, Genoa, and Pisa, sometimes in transporting them thither, and always in supplying them with provisions. They were the commissaries, if one may say so, of those armies; and the most destructive frenzy that ever befel the European nations, was a source of opulence to those republics.
The inhabitants of trading cities, by importing the improved manufactures and expensive luxuries of richer countries, afforded some food to the vanity of the great proprietors, who eagerly purchased them with great quantities of the rude produce of their own lands. The commerce of a great part of Europe in those times, accordingly, consisted chiefly in the exchange of their own rude, for the manufactured produce of more civilized nations. Thus the wool of England used to be exchanged for the wines of France, and the fine cloths of Flanders, in the same manner as the corn in Poland is at this day, exchanged for the wines and brandies of France, and for the silks and velvets of France and Italy.
A taste for the finer and more improved manufactures was, in this manner, introduced by foreign commerce into countries where no such works were carried on. But when this taste became so general as to occasion a considerable demand, the merchants, in order to save the expense of carriage, naturally endeavoured to establish some manufactures of the same kind in their own country. Hence the origin of the first manufactures for distant sale, that seem to have been established in the western provinces of Europe, after the fall of the Roman empire.
No large country, it must be observed, ever did or could subsist without some sort of manufactures being carried on in it; and when it is said of any such country that it has no manufactures, it must always be understood of the finer and more improved, or of such as are fit for distant sale. In every large country both the clothing and household furniture or the far greater part of the people, are the produce of their own industry. This is even more universally the case in those poor countries which are commonly said to have no manufactures, than in those rich ones that are said to abound in them. In the latter you will generally find, both in the clothes and household furniture of the lowest rank of people, a much greater proportion of foreign productions than in the former.
Those manufactures which are fit for distant sale, seem to have been introduced into different countries in two different ways.
Sometimes they have been introduced in the manner above mentioned, by the violent operation, if one may say so, of the stocks of particular merchants and undertakers, who established them in imitation of some foreign manufactures of the same kind. Such manufactures, therefore, are the offspring of foreign commerce; and such seem to have been the ancient manufactures of silks, velvets, and brocades, which flourished in Lucca during the thirteenth century. They were banished from thence by the tyranny of one of Machiavel’s heroes, Castruccio Castracani. In 1310, nine hundred families were driven out of Lucca, of whom thirty-one retired to Venice, and offered to introduce there the silk manufacture. {See Sandi Istoria civile de Vinezia, part 2 vol. i, page 247 and 256.} Their offer was accepted, many privileges were conferred upon them, and they began the manufacture with three hundred workmen. Such, too, seem to have been the manufactures of fine cloths that anciently flourished in Flanders, and which were introduced into England in the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth, and such are the present silk manufactures of Lyons and Spitalfields. Manufactures introduced in this manner are generally employed upon foreign materials, being imitations of foreign manufactures. When the Venetian manufacture was first established, the materials were all brought from Sicily and the Levant. The more ancient manufacture of Lucca was likewise carried on with foreign materials. The cultivation of mulberry trees, and the breeding of silk-worms, seem not to have been common in the northern parts of Italy before the sixteenth century. Those arts were not introduced into France till the reign of Charles IX. The manufactures of Flanders were carried on chiefly with Spanish and English wool. Spanish wool was the material, not of the first woollen manufacture of England, but of the first that was fit for distant sale. More than one half the materials of the Lyons manufacture is at this day foreign silk; when it was first established, the whole, or very nearly the whole, was so. No part of the materials of the Spitalfields manufacture is ever likely to be the produce of England. The seat of such manufactures, as they are generally introduced by the scheme and project of a few individuals, is sometimes established in a maritime city, and sometimes in an inland town, according as their interest, judgment, or caprice, happen to determine.
At other times, manufactures for distant sale grow up naturally, and as it were of their own accord, by the gradual refinement of those household and coarser manufactures which must at all times be carried on even in the poorest and rudest countries. Such manufactures are generally employed upon the materials which the country produces, and they seem frequently to have been first refined and improved in such inland countries as were not, indeed, at a very great, but at a considerable distance from the sea-coast, and sometimes even from all water carriage. An inland country, naturally fertile and easily cultivated, produces a great surplus of provisions beyond what is necessary for maintaining the cultivators; and on account of the expense of land carriage, and inconveniency of river navigation, it may frequently be difficult to send this surplus abroad. Abundance, therefore, renders provisions cheap, and encourages a great number of workmen to settle in the neighbourhood, who find that their industry can there procure them more of the necessaries and conveniencies of life than in other places. They work up the materials of manufacture which the land produces, and exchange their finished work, or, what is the same thing, the price of it, for more materials and provisions. They give a new value to the surplus part of the rude produce, by saving the expense of carrying it to the water-side, or to some distant market; and they furnish the cultivators with something in exchange for it that is either useful or agreeable to them, upon easier terms than they could have obtained it before. The cultivators get a better price for their surplus produce, and can purchase cheaper other conveniencies which they have occasion for. They are thus both encouraged and enabled to increase this surplus produce by a further improvement and better cultivation of the land; and as the fertility of the land had given birth to the manufacture, so the progress of the manufacture re-acts upon the land, and increases still further its fertility. The manufacturers first supply the neighbourhood, and afterwards, as their work improves and refines, more distant markets. For though neither the rude produce, nor even the coarse manufacture, could, without the greatest difficulty, support the expense of a considerable land-carriage, the refined and improved manufacture easily may. In a small bulk it frequently contains the price of a great quantity of rude produce. A piece of fine cloth, for example which weighs only eighty pounds, contains in it the price, not only of eighty pounds weight of wool, but sometimes of several thousand weight of corn, the maintenance of the different working people, and of their immediate employers. The corn which could with difficulty have been carried abroad in its own shape, is in this manner virtually exported in that of the complete manufacture, and may easily be sent to the remotest corners of the world. In this manner have grown up naturally, and, as it were, of their own accord, the manufactures of Leeds, Halifax, Sheffield, Birmingham, and Wolverhampton. Such manufactures are the offspring of agriculture. In the modern history of Europe, their extension and improvement have generally been posterior to those which were the offspring of foreign commerce. England was noted for the manufacture of fine cloths made of Spanish wool, more than a century before any of those which now flourish in the places above mentioned were fit for foreign sale. The extension and improvement of these last could not take place but in consequence of the extension and improvement of agriculture, the last and greatest effect of foreign commerce, and of the manufactures immediately introduced by it, and which I shall now proceed to explain.
English
In countries such as France and England, where the sovereign's authority, though often very low, was never completely extinguished, the cities had no chance to become wholly independent. They did, however, become important enough that the sovereign could impose no tax upon them beyond the town's established farm rent without their consent. They were therefore asked to send deputies to the general assembly of the kingdom's estates, where they could join the clergy and the barons in granting the king extraordinary aid when the need was urgent. Since they were generally more favorable to his power, the king also seems sometimes to have used their deputies in these assemblies as a counterweight to the great lords. From this arose the representation of burghs in the estates-general of all Europe's great monarchies.
Order and good government, and with them individual liberty and security, were thus established in the cities while occupiers of land in the countryside remained exposed to every kind of violence. But people in such a defenseless condition naturally settle for the bare means of subsistence, since anything more they acquire might only tempt their oppressors' injustice. When secure in the enjoyment of the fruits of their industry, by contrast, they naturally put that industry to work to improve their circumstances, acquiring not merely the necessities but the comforts and refinements of life. Industry aimed at more than subsistence therefore took root in cities long before it became common among those who worked the land. If a poor cultivator oppressed by villeinage managed to accumulate a little stock, he would naturally hide it carefully from his master, to whom it would otherwise belong, and seize the first chance to flee to a town. At that time the law was so favorable to townspeople, and so eager to reduce the lords' power over rural people, that if he could evade his lord's pursuit there for a year, he became free forever. Thus whatever stock the industrious people of the countryside accumulated naturally sought refuge in cities, the only sanctuaries where it could remain secure in the hands of those who had acquired it.
A city's inhabitants must, it is true, ultimately draw their subsistence, and all the materials and means of their industry, from the country. But when a city stands near the seacoast or on a navigable river, its inhabitants need not draw these things only from the surrounding countryside. Their reach is much wider: they can obtain them from the farthest corners of the world, either in exchange for the manufactured products of their own industry or by serving as carriers between distant countries and exchanging the produce of one for that of another. Thus a city might attain great wealth and splendor while both its neighboring countryside and all the countries with which it traded remained poor and wretched. Each of those countries alone might supply only a little of either its subsistence or its employment; together, they could supply it abundantly with both. Within the narrow commercial world of those times, however, there were some rich and industrious countries. The Greek empire was such a country while it lasted, as was that of the Saracens under the Abassides. So too was Egypt until its conquest by the Turks, together with part of the Barbary coast and all the Spanish provinces under Moorish rule.
The cities of Italy seem to have been the first in Europe to attain considerable wealth through commerce. Italy stood at the center of what was then the developed and civilized part of the world. The crusades, moreover, while their enormous waste of stock and destruction of lives must have held back most of Europe, greatly favored the growth of certain Italian cities. The great armies marching from every quarter to conquer the Holy Land gave exceptional encouragement to the shipping of Venice, Genoa, and Pisa: sometimes by hiring their ships for transport there, and always by drawing on them for provisions. These cities were, so to speak, the armies' suppliers; and the most destructive frenzy ever to seize the nations of Europe became a source of wealth for these republics.
By importing the finer manufactures and costly luxuries of richer countries, the inhabitants of trading cities offered something to gratify the vanity of great landowners, who eagerly bought these goods with large quantities of the raw produce of their estates. Thus the trade of much of Europe in those days chiefly consisted in exchanging its own raw produce for the manufactured goods of more civilized nations. English wool, for example, was exchanged for French wine and the fine cloth of Flanders, just as Polish grain is now exchanged for French wines and brandies and for the silks and velvets of France and Italy.
Foreign trade in this way introduced a taste for finer and more sophisticated manufactures into countries where none were made. When that taste became common enough to create substantial demand, merchants naturally tried to establish manufactures of the same kind at home, to save the cost of carriage. This appears to have been the origin of the first manufactures for distant sale established in western Europe after the fall of the Roman Empire.
It should be noted that no large country has ever existed, or could exist, without some kind of manufacture within it. When such a country is said to have no manufactures, this must refer to the finer and more sophisticated kinds, or those fit for distant sale. In every large country the clothing and household furnishings of the great majority of the people are products of their own industry. This is even more generally true of the poor countries commonly said to lack manufactures than of the rich ones said to abound in them. In the latter, one usually finds a far greater share of foreign products even in the clothes and household furnishings of the poorest people than in the former.
Manufactures fit for distant sale seem to have entered different countries in two distinct ways.
Sometimes they have arrived in the manner just described, through the vigorous intervention, so to speak, of the stocks of particular merchants and entrepreneurs who established them in imitation of similar foreign manufactures. These manufactures are therefore the offspring of foreign trade. Such appear to have been the ancient silk, velvet, and brocade manufactures that flourished in Lucca during the thirteenth century. They were driven from that city by the tyranny of one of Machiavel's heroes, Castruccio Castracani. In 1310, nine hundred families were expelled from Lucca. Thirty-one of them went to Venice and offered to introduce the manufacture of silk there. [See Sandi Istoria civile de Vinezia, part 2 vol. i, page 247 and 256.] Their offer was accepted; they received many privileges and began manufacturing with three hundred workers. So too, it seems, were the fine-cloth manufactures that once flourished in Flanders and were introduced into England at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign; and so are the present silk manufactures of Lyons and Spitalfields. Manufactures introduced in this way usually work with foreign materials, since they imitate foreign manufactures. When silk manufacturing first began in Venice, all its materials came from Sicily and the Levant. The older manufacture in Lucca likewise used foreign materials. Mulberry cultivation and silkworm breeding do not seem to have been common in northern Italy before the sixteenth century. These arts did not enter France until the reign of Charles IX. The manufactures of Flanders relied chiefly on Spanish and English wool. Spanish wool supplied not England's first woolen manufacture, but its first fit for distant sale. More than one half of the materials used in the Lyons manufacture today are foreign silk; when it was first established, all or nearly all of them were. No part of the materials used in the Spitalfields manufacture is ever likely to be produced in England. Since manufactures of this kind are usually introduced through the plans and projects of a few individuals, they may be established either in a seaport or in an inland town, as the interest, judgment, or whim of those individuals dictates.
At other times, manufactures for distant sale arise naturally and, as it were, of their own accord, through the gradual refinement of the household and coarser manufactures that exist even in the poorest and least developed countries. These manufactures generally work with materials produced in the country itself. They seem often to have first been refined and improved in inland districts at a considerable, though not immense, distance from the seacoast and sometimes even from all water transport. A naturally fertile inland district that is easily cultivated yields a great surplus of provisions beyond what is needed to sustain its cultivators. Because land carriage is costly and river navigation difficult, it may often be hard to send this surplus elsewhere. Its abundance therefore makes provisions cheap and encourages many workers to settle nearby, where they find that their labor can obtain more of the necessities and comforts of life than it could elsewhere. They work up the materials yielded by the land and exchange their finished products—or, what amounts to the same thing, the price received for them—for additional materials and provisions. They give fresh value to the surplus raw produce by saving the cost of carrying it to a waterside or distant market; and in exchange they supply the cultivators with things useful or agreeable to them on better terms than they could previously have obtained. The cultivators secure a better price for their surplus and can buy the other comforts they need more cheaply. They are thereby both encouraged and enabled to increase that surplus through further improvement and better cultivation of the land. Just as the land's fertility gave birth to manufacture, the progress of manufacture acts in turn upon the land and makes it more fertile still. Manufacturers first serve the neighborhood, and later, as their work becomes finer and more accomplished, more distant markets. For while raw produce and even coarse manufactures can scarcely bear the cost of carriage over any great distance by land, finer and more sophisticated manufactures can do so easily. A small bulk of such goods often contains the price of a great quantity of raw produce. A piece of fine cloth weighing only eighty pounds, for example, embodies the price not only of eighty pounds weight of wool but sometimes of several thousand weight of grain, consumed in sustaining the various workers and their immediate employers. Grain that could only with difficulty be shipped away in its original form is thus in effect exported in the form of finished goods, which can readily be sent to the farthest corners of the world. In this natural and almost spontaneous way arose the manufactures of Leeds, Halifax, Sheffield, Birmingham, and Wolverhampton. Such manufactures are the offspring of agriculture. In Europe's modern history, their expansion and improvement have generally followed those of the manufactures born of foreign trade. England was known for its fine cloth made from Spanish wool more than a century before any of the manufactures now flourishing in the towns just named were fit for foreign sale. The growth and improvement of these latter could occur only as a consequence of the growth and improvement of agriculture—the last and greatest effect of foreign trade and of the manufactures it directly introduced. I shall now explain how this came about.
Book III, Chapter IV, 1
18th-century English
HOW THE COMMERCE OF TOWNS CONTRIBUTED TO THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE COUNTRY.
The increase and riches of commercial and manufacturing towns contributed to the improvement and cultivation of the countries to which they belonged, in three different ways.
First, by affording a great and ready market for the rude produce of the country, they gave encouragement to its cultivation and further improvement. This benefit was not even confined to the countries in which they were situated, but extended more or less to all those with which they had any dealings. To all of them they afforded a market for some part either of their rude or manufactured produce, and, consequently, gave some encouragement to the industry and improvement of all. Their own country, however, on account of its neighbourhood, necessarily derived the greatest benefit from this market. Its rude produce being charged with less carriage, the traders could pay the growers a better price for it, and yet afford it as cheap to the consumers as that of more distant countries.
Secondly, the wealth acquired by the inhabitants of cities was frequently employed in purchasing such lands as were to be sold, of which a great part would frequently be uncultivated. Merchants are commonly ambitious of becoming country gentlemen, and, when they do, they are generally the best of all improvers. A merchant is accustomed to employ his money chiefly in profitable projects; whereas a mere country gentleman is accustomed to employ it chiefly in expense. The one often sees his money go from him, and return to him again with a profit; the other, when once he parts with it, very seldom expects to see any more of it. Those different habits naturally affect their temper and disposition in every sort of business. The merchant is commonly a bold, a country gentleman a timid undertaker. The one is not afraid to lay out at once a large capital upon the improvement of his land, when he has a probable prospect of raising the value of it in proportion to the expense; the other, if he has any capital, which is not always the case, seldom ventures to employ it in this manner. If he improves at all, it is commonly not with a capital, but with what he can save out or his annual revenue. Whoever has had the fortune to live in a mercantile town, situated in an unimproved country, must have frequently observed how much more spirited the operations of merchants were in this way, than those of mere country gentlemen. The habits, besides, of order, economy, and attention, to which mercantile business naturally forms a merchant, render him much fitter to execute, with profit and success, any project of improvement.
Thirdly, and lastly, commerce and manufactures gradually introduced order and good government, and with them the liberty and security of individuals, among the inhabitants of the country, who had before lived almost in a continual state of war with their neighbours, and of servile dependency upon their superiors. This, though it has been the least observed, is by far the most important of all their effects. Mr Hume is the only writer who, so far as I know, has hitherto taken notice of it.
In a country which has neither foreign commerce nor any of the finer manufactures, a great proprietor, having nothing for which he can exchange the greater part of the produce of his lands which is over and above the maintenance of the cultivators, consumes the whole in rustic hospitality at home. If this surplus produce is sufficient to maintain a hundred or a thousand men, he can make use of it in no other way than by maintaining a hundred or a thousand men. He is at all times, therefore, surrounded with a multitude of retainers and dependants, who, having no equivalent to give in return for their maintenance, but being fed entirely by his bounty, must obey him, for the same reason that soldiers must obey the prince who pays them. Before the extension of commerce and manufactures in Europe, the hospitality of the rich and the great, from the sovereign down to the smallest baron, exceeded every thing which, in the present times, we can easily form a notion of Westminster-hall was the dining-room of William Rufus, and might frequently, perhaps, not be too large for his company. It was reckoned a piece of magnificence in Thomas Becket, that he strewed the floor of his hall with clean hay or rushes in the season, in order that the knights and squires, who could not get seats, might not spoil their fine clothes when they sat down on the floor to eat their dinner. The great Earl of Warwick is said to have entertained every day, at his different manors, 30,000 people; and though the number here may have been exaggerated, it must, however, have been very great to admit of such exaggeration. A hospitality nearly of the same kind was exercised not many years ago in many different parts of the Highlands of Scotland. It seems to be common in all nations to whom commerce and manufactures are little known. I have seen, says Doctor Pocock, an Arabian chief dine in the streets of a town where he had come to sell his cattle, and invite all passengers, even common beggars, to sit down with him and partake of his banquet.
The occupiers of land were in every respect as dependent upon the great proprietor as his retainers. Even such of them as were not in a state of villanage, were tenants at will, who paid a rent in no respect equivalent to the subsistence which the land afforded them. A crown, half a crown, a sheep, a lamb, was some years ago, in the Highlands of Scotland, a common rent for lands which maintained a family. In some places it is so at this day; nor will money at present purchase a greater quantity of commodities there than in other places. In a country where the surplus produce of a large estate must be consumed upon the estate itself, it will frequently be more convenient for the proprietor, that part of it be consumed at a distance from his own house, provided they who consume it are as dependent upon him as either his retainers or his menial servants. He is thereby saved from the embarrassment of either too large a company, or too large a family. A tenant at will, who possesses land sufficient to maintain his family for little more than a quit-rent, is as dependent upon the proprietor as any servant or retainer whatever, and must obey him with as little reserve. Such a proprietor, as he feeds his servants and retainers at his own house, so he feeds his tenants at their houses. The subsistence of both is derived from his bounty, and its continuance depends upon his good pleasure.
Upon the authority which the great proprietors necessarily had, in such a state of things, over their tenants and retainers, was founded the power of the ancient barons. They necessarily became the judges in peace, and the leaders in war, of all who dwelt upon their estates. They could maintain order, and execute the law, within their respective demesnes, because each of them could there turn the whole force of all the inhabitants against the injustice of anyone. No other person had sufficient authority to do this. The king, in particular, had not. In those ancient times, he was little more than the greatest proprietor in his dominions, to whom, for the sake of common defence against their common enemies, the other great proprietors paid certain respects. To have enforced payment of a small debt within the lands of a great proprietor, where all the inhabitants were armed, and accustomed to stand by one another, would have cost the king, had he attempted it by his own authority, almost the same effort as to extinguish a civil war. He was, therefore, obliged to abandon the administration of justice, through the greater part of the country, to those who were capable of administering it; and, for the same reason, to leave the command of the country militia to those whom that militia would obey.
It is a mistake to imagine that those territorial jurisdictions took their origin from the feudal law. Not only the highest jurisdictions, both civil and criminal, but the power of levying troops, of coining money, and even that of making bye-laws for the government of their own people, were all rights possessed allodially by the great proprietors of land, several centuries before even the name of the feudal law was known in Europe. The authority and jurisdiction of the Saxon lords in England appear to have been as great before the Conquest as that of any of the Norman lords after it. But the feudal law is not supposed to have become the common law of England till after the Conquest. That the most extensive authority and jurisdictions were possessed by the great lords in France allodially, long before the feudal law was introduced into that country, is a matter of fact that admits of no doubt. That authority, and those jurisdictions, all necessarily flowed from the state of property and manners just now described. Without remounting to the remote antiquities of either the French or English monarchies, we may find, in much later times, many proofs that such effects must always flow from such causes. It is not thirty years ago since Mr Cameron of Lochiel, a gentleman of Lochaber in Scotland, without any legal warrant whatever, not being what was then called a lord of regality, nor even a tenant in chief, but a vassal of the Duke of Argyll, and with out being so much as a justice of peace, used, notwithstanding, to exercise the highest criminal jurisdictions over his own people. He is said to have done so with great equity, though without any of the formalities of justice; and it is not improbable that the state of that part of the country at that time made it necessary for him to assume this authority, in order to maintain the public peace. That gentleman, whose rent never exceeded £500 a-year, carried, in 1745, 800 of his own people into the rebellion with him.
The introduction of the feudal law, so far from extending, may be regarded as an attempt to moderate, the authority of the great allodial lords. It established a regular subordination, accompanied with a long train of services and duties, from the king down to the smallest proprietor. During the minority of the proprietor, the rent, together with the management of his lands, fell into the hands of his immediate superior; and, consequently, those of all great proprietors into the hands of the king, who was charged with the maintenance and education of the pupil, and who, from his authority as guardian, was supposed to have a right of disposing of him in marriage, provided it was in a manner not unsuitable to his rank. But though this institution necessarily tended to strengthen the authority of the king, and to weaken that of the great proprietors, it could not do either sufficiently for establishing order and good government among the inhabitants of the country; because it could not alter sufficiently that state of property and manners from which the disorders arose. The authority of government still continued to be, as before, too weak in the head, and too strong in the inferior members; and the excessive strength of the inferior members was the cause of the weakness of the head. After the institution of feudal subordination, the king was as incapable of restraining the violence of the great lords as before. They still continued to make war according to their own discretion, almost continually upon one another, and very frequently upon the king; and the open country still continued to be a scene of violence, rapine, and disorder.
But what all the violence of the feudal institutions could never have effected, the silent and insensible operation of foreign commerce and manufactures gradually brought about. These gradually furnished the great proprietors with something for which they could exchange the whole surplus produce of their lands, and which they could consume themselves, without sharing it either with tenants or retainers. All for ourselves, and nothing for other people, seems, in every age of the world, to have been the vile maxim of the masters of mankind. As soon, therefore, as they could find a method of consuming the whole value of their rents themselves, they had no disposition to share them with any other persons. For a pair of diamond buckles, perhaps, or for something as frivolous and useless, they exchanged the maintenance, or, what is the same thing, the price of the maintenance of 1000 men for a year, and with it the whole weight and authority which it could give them. The buckles, however, were to be all their own, and no other human creature was to have any share of them; whereas, in the more ancient method of expense, they must have shared with at least 1000 people. With the judges that were to determine the preference, this difference was perfectly decisive; and thus, for the gratification of the most childish, the meanest, and the most sordid of all vanities they gradually bartered their whole power and authority.
In a country where there is no foreign commerce, nor any of the finer manufactures, a man of £10,000 a-year cannot well employ his revenue in any other way than in maintaining, perhaps, 1000 families, who are all of them necessarily at his command. In the present state of Europe, a man of £10,000 a-year can spend his whole revenue, and he generally does so, without directly maintaining twenty people, or being able to command more than ten footmen, not worth the commanding. Indirectly, perhaps, he maintains as great, or even a greater number of people, than he could have done by the ancient method of expense. For though the quantity of precious productions for which he exchanges his whole revenue be very small, the number of workmen employed in collecting and preparing it must necessarily have been very great. Its great price generally arises from the wages of their labour, and the profits of all their immediate employers. By paying that price, he indirectly pays all those wages and profits, and thus indirectly contributes to the maintenance of all the workmen and their employers. He generally contributes, however, but a very small proportion to that of each; to a very few, perhaps, not a tenth, to many not a hundredth, and to some not a thousandth, or even a ten thousandth part of their whole annual maintenance. Though he contributes, therefore, to the maintenance of them all, they are all more or less independent of him, because generally they can all be maintained without him.
When the great proprietors of land spend their rents in maintaining their tenants and retainers, each of them maintains entirely all his own tenants and all his own retainers. But when they spend them in maintaining tradesmen and artificers, they may, all of them taken together, perhaps maintain as great, or, on account of the waste which attends rustic hospitality, a greater number of people than before. Each of them, however, taken singly, contributes often but a very small share to the maintenance of any individual of this greater number. Each tradesman or artificer derives his subsistence from the employment, not of one, but of a hundred or a thousand different customers. Though in some measure obliged to them all, therefore, he is not absolutely dependent upon any one of them.
English
How the Commerce of Towns Contributed to the Improvement of the Country.
The growth and wealth of commercial and manufacturing towns contributed to the improvement and cultivation of the countries to which they belonged in three different ways.
First, by providing a large and ready market for the raw produce of the countryside, they encouraged its cultivation and further improvement. This benefit was not confined to the countries in which the towns stood, but extended in some degree to every country with which they traded. To each they offered a market for part of either its raw or its manufactured produce, and so gave some encouragement to the industry and improvement of all. Their own country, however, necessarily gained most from this market because of its proximity. Since the carriage of its raw produce cost less, traders could pay its growers a better price while still selling it to consumers as cheaply as produce from more distant countries.
Second, the wealth acquired by city dwellers was often used to buy land that came up for sale, much of which was frequently uncultivated. Merchants commonly aspire to become country gentlemen, and when they do they are generally the best of all improvers. A merchant is accustomed to using his money chiefly in profitable ventures, whereas a country gentleman who has never traded is accustomed chiefly to spending it. The one often sees his money leave him and return with a profit; the other, once he parts with it, seldom expects to see it again. These different habits naturally shape their temperaments in every kind of business. The merchant is commonly a bold entrepreneur; the country gentleman a timid one. The former does not fear to invest a large capital at once in improving his land when he has a reasonable prospect of increasing its value in proportion to the expense. The latter, if he has any capital—which is not always the case—seldom ventures to use it this way. If he makes improvements at all, he generally pays for them not with capital but with what he can save from his annual revenue. Anyone who has lived in a mercantile town surrounded by unimproved countryside must often have noticed how much bolder the merchants' efforts at improvement were than those of mere country gentlemen. Moreover, the habits of order, economy, and attention formed by trade make a merchant far better equipped to undertake any project of improvement profitably and successfully.
Third and last, commerce and manufactures gradually brought order and good government, and with them individual liberty and security, to people in the countryside who had previously lived in almost constant warfare with their neighbors and in servile dependence on their superiors. This, though least often noticed, is by far their most important effect. So far as I know, Mr Hume is the only writer who has yet taken note of it.
In a country without foreign trade or any of the finer manufactures, a great landowner has nothing for which he can exchange most of the produce of his estates beyond what sustains their cultivators; he therefore consumes all this surplus in rustic hospitality at home. If the surplus is enough to feed a hundred or a thousand men, he can use it only to feed a hundred or a thousand men. He is accordingly surrounded at all times by a multitude of retainers and dependents who can give nothing in return for their maintenance. Fed entirely by his bounty, they must obey him, just as soldiers must obey the prince who pays them. Before commerce and manufactures spread through Europe, the hospitality of the rich and great, from the sovereign to the humblest baron, surpassed anything we can readily imagine today. Westminster-hall was William Rufus's dining room, and perhaps was frequently scarcely large enough for his guests. It was counted an act of magnificence by Thomas Becket that he covered the floor of his hall with clean hay or, when in season, rushes, so that the knights and squires who could not find seats would not spoil their fine clothes when they sat on the floor to dine. The great Earl of Warwick is said to have entertained 30,000 people every day at his various manors. Though that number may be exaggerated, the actual number must have been very large to allow for such an exaggeration. Hospitality of almost the same kind was practiced not many years ago in many parts of the Highlands of Scotland. It appears common to all peoples little acquainted with commerce and manufactures. Doctor Pocock says that he saw an Arabian chief dining in the streets of a town to which he had come to sell his cattle, inviting every passerby, even ordinary beggars, to sit down and share his feast.
The occupiers of land were in every respect as dependent on the great proprietor as his retainers. Even those who were not villeins were tenants at will, paying rent in no way equal to the subsistence the land provided them. A crown, half a crown, a sheep, or a lamb was, some years ago, a common rent in the Highlands of Scotland for land that supported a family. In some places it remains so today; nor can money there now purchase a greater quantity of goods than it can elsewhere. Where the surplus produce of a large estate must be consumed on the estate itself, the proprietor will often find it more convenient for some of it to be consumed away from his own house, provided those who consume it depend on him as much as his retainers or household servants do. He thereby avoids the inconvenience of having either too many guests or too large a household. A tenant at will who occupies enough land to support his family for little more than a quit-rent is as dependent on the proprietor as any servant or retainer, and must obey him just as unreservedly. Such a proprietor feeds his tenants in their own houses, just as he feeds his servants and retainers in his. Both receive their subsistence from his bounty, and its continuance depends on his pleasure.
The power of the ancient barons rested on the authority great proprietors necessarily held over their tenants and retainers under such conditions. They inevitably became judges in peace and leaders in war for everyone who lived on their estates. Within their respective demesnes they could maintain order and enforce the law, because each could marshal the entire force of the inhabitants against anyone's injustice. No one else possessed enough authority to do this, least of all the king. In those ancient times, the king was little more than the greatest landowner in his realm, to whom the other great landowners paid certain respects for their common defense against common enemies. For the king to enforce payment of a small debt on a great proprietor's lands, where all the inhabitants were armed and accustomed to stand together, would have demanded, had he tried to do it on his own authority, almost as much effort as ending a civil war. He was therefore obliged to leave the administration of justice over most of the country to those capable of administering it, and for the same reason to leave command of the country's militia to those whom it would obey.
It is a mistake to suppose that these territorial jurisdictions originated in feudal law. Not only the highest civil and criminal jurisdictions but the right to raise troops, coin money, and even make bylaws to govern their own people were held as allodial rights by great landowners centuries before Europe knew even the name of feudal law. The authority and jurisdiction of the Saxon lords in England appear to have been as great before the Conquest as those of any Norman lord after it. Yet feudal law is not thought to have become the common law of England until after the Conquest. That the great lords of France held the broadest authority and jurisdiction as allodial rights long before feudal law entered that country is beyond doubt. Such authority and jurisdiction followed necessarily from the state of property and customs just described. There is no need to reach back into the distant beginnings of the French or English monarchies to find proof, even in far more recent times, that such causes must always yield such effects. It is not thirty years since Mr Cameron of Lochiel, a gentleman of Lochaber in Scotland, exercised the highest criminal jurisdiction over his own people without the slightest legal warrant. He was neither what was then called a lord of regality nor even a tenant in chief, but a vassal of the Duke of Argyll; nor was he so much as a justice of the peace. He is said to have acted with great fairness, though without any of the formalities of justice; and the state of that part of the country at the time may well have made it necessary for him to assume this authority to preserve the public peace. This gentleman, whose rent never exceeded £500 a year, took 800 of his own people with him into the rebellion in 1745.
Far from extending the power of the great allodial lords, the introduction of feudal law may be regarded as an attempt to restrain it. It established an orderly hierarchy, with a long succession of services and duties from the king down to the smallest landowner. When a proprietor was a minor, the rent and management of his lands passed into the hands of his immediate superior. Those of the great proprietors thus passed into the king's hands. The king was charged with maintaining and educating the ward, and his authority as guardian was thought to entitle him to dispose of the ward in marriage, so long as the match was not beneath the ward's rank. But although this institution necessarily tended to strengthen the king's authority and weaken that of the great proprietors, it could not do either sufficiently to establish order and good government among the rural population, since it could not sufficiently change the state of property and customs from which the disorders sprang. Government remained, as before, too weak at its head and too strong in its lower members; the excessive strength of the lower members was the cause of the head's weakness. Even after the establishment of feudal subordination, the king was as powerless as before to check the great lords' violence. They continued to wage war at their own discretion, almost constantly against one another and very often against the king; and the open countryside remained a theater of violence, plunder, and disorder.
What all the coercive force of feudal institutions could never accomplish, however, the quiet and imperceptible workings of foreign trade and manufactures gradually brought about. These increasingly offered the great landowners something for which they could exchange the entire surplus produce of their estates and which they could consume themselves without sharing it with tenants or retainers. All for ourselves and nothing for anyone else seems in every age to have been the vile maxim of the masters of mankind. Once they found a way to consume the whole value of their rents themselves, they had no wish to share them with anyone. For a pair of diamond buckles, perhaps, or some equally frivolous and useless object, they exchanged the maintenance—or, which is the same thing, the price of maintaining—1000 men for a year, and with it all the weight and authority that such maintenance could give them. The buckles, however, belonged to them alone, and no other human being had a share in them; whereas under the older manner of spending they would have had to share with at least 1000 people. To those deciding which they preferred, this difference was conclusive. Thus, to gratify the most childish, the lowest, and the most sordid of all vanities, they gradually bartered away their entire power and authority.
In a country with neither foreign trade nor any of the finer manufactures, a man with £10,000 a year can hardly spend his revenue otherwise than by supporting perhaps 1000 families, all of whom are necessarily at his command. In Europe today, a man with £10,000 a year can spend his entire revenue, and generally does so, without directly supporting twenty people or commanding more than ten footmen, who are scarcely worth commanding. Indirectly he may support as many people as before, or even more. For though the precious goods for which he exchanges all his revenue amount to very little in quantity, the workers employed in obtaining and preparing them must necessarily be very numerous. Their high price generally consists of the wages of their labor and the profits of all their immediate employers. By paying that price he indirectly pays all these wages and profits and thus contributes indirectly to the maintenance of all the workers and their employers. Yet he generally supplies only a very small share of the maintenance of each: to a very few, perhaps, not a tenth; to many, not a hundredth; and to some, not a thousandth or even a ten thousandth of their entire yearly maintenance. Although he helps to maintain them all, they are all more or less independent of him, since in general they can all be maintained without him.
When great landowners spend their rents to maintain their tenants and retainers, each supports all of his own tenants and all of his own retainers entirely. When instead they spend those rents on tradesmen and craftsmen, they may collectively support as many people as before—or, because of the waste inherent in rustic hospitality, even more. Yet individually each landowner often supplies only a tiny portion of the maintenance of any one person in that greater multitude. Each tradesman or craftsman earns his subsistence through the custom not of one person but of a hundred or a thousand different customers. Thus, though he depends to some extent on all of them, he is absolutely dependent on none.
Book III, Chapter IV, 2
18th-century English
The personal expense of the great proprietors having in this manner gradually increased, it was impossible that the number of their retainers should not as gradually diminish, till they were at last dismissed altogether. The same cause gradually led them to dismiss the unnecessary part of their tenants. Farms were enlarged, and the occupiers of land, notwithstanding the complaints of depopulation, reduced to the number necessary for cultivating it, according to the imperfect state of cultivation and improvement in those times. By the removal of the unnecessary mouths, and by exacting from the farmer the full value of the farm, a greater surplus, or, what is the same thing, the price of a greater surplus, was obtained for the proprietor, which the merchants and manufacturers soon furnished him with a method of spending upon his own person, in the same manner as he had done the rest. The cause continuing to operate, he was desirous to raise his rents above what his lands, in the actual state of their improvement, could afford. His tenants could agree to this upon one condition only, that they should be secured in their possession for such a term of years as might give them time to recover, with profit, whatever they should lay out in the further improvement of the land. The expensive vanity of the landlord made him willing to accept of this condition; and hence the origin of long leases.
Even a tenant at will, who pays the full value of the land, is not altogether dependent upon the landlord. The pecuniary advantages which they receive from one another are mutual and equal, and such a tenant will expose neither his life nor his fortune in the service of the proprietor. But if he has a lease for a long term of years he is altogether independent; and his landlord must not expect from him even the most trifling service, beyond what is either expressly stipulated in the lease, or imposed upon him by the common and known law of the country.
The tenants having in this manner become independent, and the retainers being dismissed, the great proprietors were no longer capable of interrupting the regular execution of justice, or of disturbing the peace of the country. Having sold their birth-right, not like Esau, for a mess of pottage in time of hunger and necessity, but, in the wantonness of plenty, for trinkets and baubles, fitter to be the playthings of children than the serious pursuits of men, they became as insignificant as any substantial burgher or tradesmen in a city. A regular government was established in the country as well as in the city, nobody having sufficient power to disturb its operations in the one, any more than in the other.
It does not, perhaps, relate to the present subject, but I cannot help remarking it, that very old families, such as have possessed some considerable estate from father to son for many successive generations, are very rare in commercial countries. In countries which have little commerce, on the contrary, such as Wales, or the Highlands of Scotland, they are very common. The Arabian histories seem to be all full of genealogies; and there is a history written by a Tartar Khan, which has been translated into several European languages, and which contains scarce any thing else; a proof that ancient families are very common among those nations. In countries where a rich man can spend his revenue in no other way than by maintaining as many people as it can maintain, he is apt to run out, and his benevolence, it seems, is seldom so violent as to attempt to maintain more than he can afford. But where he can spend the greatest revenue upon his own person, he frequently has no bounds to his expense, because he frequently has no bounds to his vanity, or to his affection for his own person. In commercial countries, therefore, riches, in spite of the most violent regulations of law to prevent their dissipation, very seldom remain long in the same family. Among simple nations, on the contrary, they frequently do, without any regulations of law; for among nations of shepherds, such as the Tartars and Arabs, the consumable nature of their property necessarily renders all such regulations impossible.
A revolution of the greatest importance to the public happiness, was in this manner brought about by two different orders of people, who had not the least intention to serve the public. To gratify the most childish vanity was the sole motive of the great proprietors. The merchants and artificers, much less ridiculous, acted merely from a view to their own interest, and in pursuit of their own pedlar principle of turning a penny wherever a penny was to be got. Neither of them had either knowledge or foresight of that great revolution which the folly of the one, and the industry of the other, was gradually bringing about.
It was thus, that, through the greater part of Europe, the commerce and manufactures of cities, instead of being the effect, have been the cause and occasion of the improvement and cultivation of the country.
This order, however, being contrary to the natural course of things, is necessarily both slow and uncertain. Compare the slow progress of those European countries of which the wealth depends very much upon their commerce and manufactures, with the rapid advances of our North American colonies, of which the wealth is founded altogether in agriculture. Through the greater part of Europe, the number of inhabitants is not supposed to double in less than five hundred years. In several of our North American colonies, it is found to double in twenty or five-and-twenty years. In Europe, the law of primogeniture, and perpetuities of different kinds, prevent the division of great estates, and thereby hinder the multiplication of small proprietors. A small proprietor, however, who knows every part of his little territory, views it with all the affection which property, especially small property, naturally inspires, and who upon that account takes pleasure, not only in cultivating, but in adorning it, is generally of all improvers the most industrious, the most intelligent, and the most successful. The same regulations, besides, keep so much land out of the market, that there are always more capitals to buy than there is land to sell, so that what is sold always sells at a monopoly price. The rent never pays the interest of the purchase-money, and is, besides, burdened with repairs and other occasional charges, to which the interest of money is not liable. To purchase land, is, everywhere in Europe, a most unprofitable employment of a small capital. For the sake of the superior security, indeed, a man of moderate circumstances, when he retires from business, will sometimes choose to lay out his little capital in land. A man of profession, too whose revenue is derived from another source often loves to secure his savings in the same way. But a young man, who, instead of applying to trade or to some profession, should employ a capital of two or three thousand pounds in the purchase and cultivation of a small piece of land, might indeed expect to live very happily and very independently, but must bid adieu for ever to all hope of either great fortune or great illustration, which, by a different employment of his stock, he might have had the same chance of acquiring with other people. Such a person, too, though he cannot aspire at being a proprietor, will often disdain to be a farmer. The small quantity of land, therefore, which is brought to market, and the high price of what is brought thither, prevents a great number of capitals from being employed in its cultivation and improvement, which would otherwise have taken that direction. In North America, on the contrary, fifty or sixty pounds is often found a sufficient stock to begin a plantation with. The purchase and improvement of uncultivated land is there the most profitable employment of the smallest as well as of the greatest capitals, and the most direct road to all the fortune and illustration which can be required in that country. Such land, indeed, is in North America to be had almost for nothing, or at a price much below the value of the natural produce; a thing impossible in Europe, or indeed in any country where all lands have long been private property. If landed estates, however, were divided equally among all the children, upon the death of any proprietor who left a numerous family, the estate would generally be sold. So much land would come to market, that it could no longer sell at a monopoly price. The free rent of the land would go no nearer to pay the interest of the purchase-money, and a small capital might be employed in purchasing land as profitable as in any other way.
England, on account of the natural fertility of the soil, of the great extent of the sea-coast in proportion to that of the whole country, and of the many navigable rivers which run through it, and afford the conveniency of water carriage to some of the most inland parts of it, is perhaps as well fitted by nature as any large country in Europe to be the seat of foreign commerce, of manufactures for distant sale, and of all the improvements which these can occasion. From the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth, too, the English legislature has been peculiarly attentive to the interest of commerce and manufactures, and in reality there is no country in Europe, Holland itself not excepted, of which the law is, upon the whole, more favourable to this sort of industry. Commerce and manufactures have accordingly been continually advancing during all this period. The cultivation and improvement of the country has, no doubt, been gradually advancing too; but it seems to have followed slowly, and at a distance, the more rapid progress of commerce and manufactures. The greater part of the country must probably have been cultivated before the reign of Elizabeth; and a very great part of it still remains uncultivated, and the cultivation of the far greater part much inferior to what it might be, The law of England, however, favours agriculture, not only indirectly, by the protection of commerce, but by several direct encouragements. Except in times of scarcity, the exportation of corn is not only free, but encouraged by a bounty. In times of moderate plenty, the importation of foreign corn is loaded with duties that amount to a prohibition. The importation of live cattle, except from Ireland, is prohibited at all times; and it is but of late that it was permitted from thence. Those who cultivate the land, therefore, have a monopoly against their countrymen for the two greatest and most important articles of land produce, bread and butcher’s meat. These encouragements, although at bottom, perhaps, as I shall endeavour to show hereafter, altogether illusory, sufficiently demonstrate at least the good intention of the legislature to favour agriculture. But what is of much more importance than all of them, the yeomanry of England are rendered as secure, as independent, and as respectable, as law can make them. No country, therefore, which the right of primogeniture takes place, which pays tithes, and where perpetuities, though contrary to the spirit of the law, are admitted in some cases, can give more encouragement to agriculture than England. Such, however, notwithstanding, is the state of its cultivation. What would it have been, had the law given no direct encouragement to agriculture besides what arises indirectly from the progress of commerce, and had left the yeomanry in the same condition as in most other countries of Europe? It is now more than two hundred years since the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth, a period as long as the course of human prosperity usually endures.
France seems to have had a considerable share of foreign commerce, near a century before England was distinguished as a commercial country. The marine of France was considerable, according to the notions of the times, before the expedition of Charles VIII. to Naples. The cultivation and improvement of France, however, is, upon the whole, inferior to that of England. The law of the country has never given the same direct encouragement to agriculture.
The foreign commerce of Spain and Portugal to the other parts of Europe, though chiefly carried on in foreign ships, is very considerable. That to their colonies is carried on in their own, and is much greater, on account of the great riches and extent of those colonies. But it has never introduced any considerable manufactures for distant sale into either of those countries, and the greater part of both still remains uncultivated. The foreign commerce of Portugal is of older standing than that of any great country in Europe, except Italy.
Italy is the only great country of Europe which seems to have been cultivated and improved in every part, by means of foreign commerce and manufactures for distant sale. Before the invasion of Charles VIII., Italy, according to Guicciardini, was cultivated not less in the most mountainous and barren parts of the country, than in the plainest and most fertile. The advantageous situation of the country, and the great number of independent states which at that time subsisted in it, probably contributed not a little to this general cultivation. It is not impossible, too, notwithstanding this general expression of one of the most judicious and reserved of modern historians, that Italy was not at that time better cultivated than England is at present.
The capital, however, that is acquired to any country by commerce and manufactures, is always a very precarious and uncertain possession, till some part of it has been secured and realized in the cultivation and improvement of its lands. A merchant, it has been said very properly, is not necessarily the citizen of any particular country. It is in a great measure indifferent to him from what place he carries on his trade; and a very trifling disgust will make him remove his capital, and, together with it, all the industry which it supports, from one country to another. No part of it can be said to belong to any particular country, till it has been spread, as it were, over the face of that country, either in buildings, or in the lasting improvement of lands. No vestige now remains of the great wealth said to have been possessed by the greater part of the Hanse Towns, except in the obscure histories of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. It is even uncertain where some of them were situated, or to what towns in Europe the Latin names given to some of them belong. But though the misfortunes of Italy, in the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centuries, greatly diminished the commerce and manufactures of the cities of Lombardy and Tuscany, those countries still continue to be among the most populous and best cultivated in Europe. The civil wars of Flanders, and the Spanish government which succeeded them, chased away the great commerce of Antwerp, Ghent, and Bruges. But Flanders still continues to be one of the richest, best cultivated, and most populous provinces of Europe. The ordinary revolutions of war and government easily dry up the sources of that wealth which arises from commerce only. That which arises from the more solid improvements of agriculture is much more durable, and cannot be destroyed but by those more violent convulsions occasioned by the depredations of hostile and barbarous nations continued for a century or two together; such as those that happened for some time before and after the fall of the Roman empire in the western provinces of Europe.
English
As the personal spending of the great landowners gradually increased in this way, the number of their retainers could only gradually decline, until at last they were dismissed altogether. The same cause gradually led them to dismiss the tenants they did not need. Farms grew larger, and, despite complaints of depopulation, the number of people occupying the land fell to what was needed to cultivate it, given the imperfect state of cultivation and improvement at the time. By removing mouths they did not need to feed and demanding the full value of the farm from its tenant, landowners obtained a greater surplus—or, what amounts to the same thing, the price of a greater surplus—which merchants and manufacturers soon gave them a way to spend on themselves, just as they had spent the rest. As this cause continued to operate, landowners wanted to raise their rents beyond what their land, in its actual state of improvement, could yield. Their tenants could agree on only one condition: that their possession be secured for enough years to allow them to recover, with a profit, whatever they spent on further improving the land. The landlord’s costly vanity made him willing to accept this condition, and thus arose long leases.
Even a tenant at will who pays the full value of the land is not wholly dependent on the landlord. The financial benefits each receives from the other are mutual and equal, and such a tenant will risk neither life nor fortune in the landowner’s service. But if he holds a long lease, he is altogether independent; his landlord must not expect even the smallest service from him beyond what the lease expressly requires or the common and known law of the country imposes.
With tenants thus becoming independent and retainers dismissed, the great landowners could no longer obstruct the regular administration of justice or disturb the country’s peace. They had sold their birthright, not like Esau for a mess of pottage in a time of hunger and necessity, but amid the indulgence of plenty, for trinkets and baubles better suited to children’s play than to the serious pursuits of adults. They became no more influential than any prosperous townsman or tradesman in a city. Regular government took hold in the countryside as in the city, for no one had enough power to disrupt its operation in either place.
It may not belong to the present subject, but I cannot help observing that very old families—those that have held a considerable estate from father to son for many generations—are very rare in commercial countries. In countries with little commerce, such as Wales or the Highlands of Scotland, they are, by contrast, very common. Arabian histories seem full of genealogies; and a history written by a Tartar Khan and translated into several European languages contains scarcely anything else—evidence that ancient families are very common among those nations. In a country where a rich man can spend his revenue only by maintaining as many people as it will support, he is apt to exhaust it, and his benevolence, it seems, seldom goes so far as to support more people than he can afford. But where he can spend the greatest revenue on himself, he often sets no limit to his expenses, because he often sets no limit to his vanity or his attachment to himself. In commercial countries, then, riches very seldom remain long in the same family, despite the most forceful legal measures to prevent their dispersal. Among simpler nations they frequently do remain, without any legal measures; for among shepherd peoples such as the Tartars and Arabs, the consumable character of property makes all such measures impossible.
Thus two different classes of people, neither with the slightest intention of serving the public, brought about a revolution of the greatest importance to its well-being. The great landowners were moved solely by the wish to gratify the most childish vanity. The merchants and artisans, far less ridiculous, acted simply in their own interest, pursuing their peddler’s principle of making a penny wherever a penny could be made. Neither group had any knowledge or foresight of the great revolution that the folly of one and the industry of the other were gradually bringing about.
Thus, throughout most of Europe, the commerce and manufactures of the cities were not the result of the improvement and cultivation of the countryside, but their cause and occasion.
This order, however, runs counter to the natural course of things and is therefore necessarily slow and uncertain. Compare the slow progress of European countries whose wealth depends largely on commerce and manufactures with the rapid advances of our North American colonies, whose wealth rests wholly on agriculture. In most of Europe the population is not thought to double in less than five hundred years. In several of our North American colonies it has been found to double in twenty or five-and-twenty years. In Europe, the law of primogeniture and various forms of perpetuity prevent large estates from being divided, and thus hinder the growth in the number of small landowners. Yet a small landowner knows every part of his little territory, looks on it with all the affection that property, especially modest property, naturally inspires, and so takes pleasure not only in cultivating it but in making it beautiful. Of all those who improve land, he is generally the most industrious, the most discerning, and the most successful. Those same regulations also keep so much land off the market that there are always more capitals available to buy it than there is land for sale; what is sold therefore always commands a monopoly price. The rent never covers the interest on the purchase money and is also burdened by repairs and other occasional charges to which interest on money is not subject. Everywhere in Europe, buying land is a highly unprofitable use of a small capital. For the greater security it offers, to be sure, a man of moderate means retiring from business may sometimes choose to invest his little capital in land. A professional man whose revenue comes from another source, too, often likes to secure his savings in the same way. But a young man who used a capital of two or three thousand pounds to purchase and cultivate a small piece of land instead of entering trade or a profession might well expect a very happy and independent life. He would, however, have to abandon forever any hope of a great fortune or great distinction, which he would have as much chance of attaining as anyone else if he employed his stock differently. Such a man, though he cannot hope to be an owner, will often disdain to be a tenant farmer. The small amount of land brought to market, and the high price of what does come to market, therefore keep a great many capitals out of cultivation and improvement that would otherwise flow into them. In North America, by contrast, fifty or sixty pounds often provides enough stock to start a plantation. There, buying and improving uncultivated land is the most profitable use of the smallest as well as the largest capitals, and the surest route to all the fortune and distinction one can desire in that country. Such land can indeed be had in North America almost for nothing, or at a price far below the value of its natural produce—a thing impossible in Europe or, indeed, anywhere that all land has long been privately owned. If, however, an owner who left many children had his landed estate divided equally among them at his death, the estate would generally be sold. So much land would come onto the market that it could no longer command a monopoly price. The land’s unrestricted rent would come no closer to covering the interest on its purchase price, and a small capital could be employed as profitably in buying land as in any other way.
England, with its naturally fertile soil, its long coastline relative to its total area, and its many navigable rivers affording water transport even to some of its most inland parts, is perhaps as well suited by nature as any large European country to foreign commerce, manufactures for distant markets, and all the improvements they can bring. Since the beginning of Elizabeth’s reign, moreover, the English legislature has paid particular attention to the interests of commerce and manufactures; in fact, there is no European country, not even Holland, whose laws are on the whole more favorable to this kind of industry. Commerce and manufactures have accordingly advanced continuously throughout this period. Cultivation and improvement of the countryside have doubtless advanced gradually too, but seem to have followed at a slow pace and a considerable distance behind the more rapid progress of commerce and manufactures. Most of the countryside was probably cultivated before Elizabeth’s reign; yet a very large part of it remains uncultivated, and the cultivation of by far the greater part falls well below what it might be. English law nevertheless favors agriculture not only indirectly, by protecting commerce, but through several direct incentives. Except in times of scarcity, corn exports are not merely permitted but encouraged with a bounty. When supplies are moderately plentiful, foreign corn imports bear duties that amount to a ban. Imports of live cattle, except from Ireland, are prohibited at all times, and it is only recently that imports from Ireland have been allowed. Those who cultivate the land thus enjoy a monopoly over their fellow countrymen in the two greatest and most important products of the land, bread and butcher’s meat. Though these incentives may, as I shall try to show later, prove entirely illusory at bottom, they at least amply demonstrate the legislature’s good intention toward agriculture. Far more important than all of them, however, the yeomanry of England enjoy as much security, independence, and respectability as law can give them. No country in which primogeniture prevails, tithes are paid, and perpetuities are allowed in some cases despite being contrary to the spirit of the law can encourage agriculture more than England does. Yet this is the state of its cultivation. What would it have been if the law had offered agriculture no direct encouragement beyond that arising indirectly from the progress of commerce, and had left the yeomanry in the condition they face in most other European countries? More than two hundred years have now passed since the beginning of Elizabeth’s reign—as long a period as human prosperity commonly lasts.
France seems to have had a substantial share of foreign commerce nearly a century before England became known as a commercial country. Even before the expedition of Charles VIII. to Naples, France’s navy was considerable by the standards of the time. Yet France’s cultivation and improvement are on the whole inferior to England’s. Its laws have never offered agriculture the same direct encouragement.
Spain and Portugal carry on considerable foreign commerce with the rest of Europe, though chiefly in foreign ships. Their commerce with their colonies is carried on in their own ships and is far greater because of the great wealth and extent of those colonies. Yet foreign commerce has never brought any considerable manufacturing for distant markets into either country, and most of both countries remains uncultivated. Portugal’s foreign commerce goes back further than that of any other large European country except Italy.
Italy is the only large European country that seems to have been cultivated and improved everywhere through foreign commerce and manufactures for distant markets. Before the invasion of Charles VIII., according to Guicciardini, even Italy’s most mountainous and barren districts were cultivated no less than its flattest and most fertile. The country’s favorable location and the large number of independent states then existing within it probably contributed substantially to this widespread cultivation. Still, despite this general statement by one of the most judicious and cautious of modern historians, it is possible that Italy at that time was no better cultivated than England is now.
The capital a country acquires through commerce and manufactures is, however, always a precarious and uncertain possession until some part of it has been secured and embodied in cultivating and improving its land. It has been rightly said that a merchant is not necessarily a citizen of any particular country. For the most part it matters little to him where he conducts his trade; a very slight grievance may induce him to move his capital, and with it all the industry it supports, from one country to another. None of that capital can be said to belong to a particular country until it has been spread, so to speak, over the country’s surface, in buildings or lasting improvements to its land. Nothing remains now of the great wealth said to have belonged to most of the Hanse Towns except accounts in obscure histories of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Even the locations of some are uncertain, as is which European towns bear some of the Latin names given them. But although Italy’s misfortunes at the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centuries greatly reduced commerce and manufactures in the cities of Lombardy and Tuscany, those regions remain among Europe’s most populous and best cultivated. The civil wars in Flanders and the Spanish government that followed drove away the great commerce of Antwerp, Ghent, and Bruges. Yet Flanders remains one of Europe’s richest, best cultivated, and most populous provinces. The ordinary upheavals of war and government readily dry up sources of wealth arising from commerce alone. Wealth arising from the more substantial improvements of agriculture endures much longer. It can be destroyed only by more violent convulsions, caused by hostile and barbarous nations plundering for a century or two in succession, like those that took place for some time before and after the fall of the Roman empire in Europe’s western provinces.
Book IV, Chapter I, 1
18th-century English
OF SYSTEMS OF POLITICAL ECONOMY.
Political economy, considered as a branch of the science of a statesman or legislator, proposes two distinct objects; first, to provide a plentiful revenue or subsistence for the people, or, more properly, to enable them to provide such a revenue or subsistence for themselves; and, secondly, to supply the state or commonwealth with a revenue sufficient for the public services. It proposes to enrich both the people and the sovereign.
The different progress of opulence in different ages and nations, has given occasion to two different systems of political economy, with regard to enriching the people. The one may be called the system of commerce, the other that of agriculture. I shall endeavour to explain both as fully and distinctly as I can, and shall begin with the system of commerce. It is the modern system, and is best understood in our own country and in our own times.
OF THE PRINCIPLE OF THE COMMERCIAL OR MERCANTILE SYSTEM.
That wealth consists in money, or in gold and silver, is a popular notion which naturally arises from the double function of money, as the instrument of commerce, and as the measure of value. In consequence of its being the instrument of commerce, when we have money we can more readily obtain whatever else we have occasion for, than by means of any other commodity. The great affair, we always find, is to get money. When that is obtained, there is no difficulty in making any subsequent purchase. In consequence of its being the measure of value, we estimate that of all other commodities by the quantity of money which they will exchange for. We say of a rich man, that he is worth a great deal, and of a poor man, that he is worth very little money. A frugal man, or a man eager to be rich, is said to love money; and a careless, a generous, or a profuse man, is said to be indifferent about it. To grow rich is to get money; and wealth and money, in short, are, in common language, considered as in every respect synonymous.
A rich country, in the same manner as a rich man, is supposed to be a country abounding in money; and to heap up gold and silver in any country is supposed to be the readiest way to enrich it. For some time after the discovery of America, the first inquiry of the Spaniards, when they arrived upon any unknown coast, used to be, if there was any gold or silver to be found in the neighbourhood? By the information which they received, they judged whether it was worth while to make a settlement there, or if the country was worth the conquering. Plano Carpino, a monk sent ambassador from the king of France to one of the sons of the famous Gengis Khan, says, that the Tartars used frequently to ask him, if there was plenty of sheep and oxen in the kingdom of France? Their inquiry had the same object with that of the Spaniards. They wanted to know if the country was rich enough to be worth the conquering. Among the Tartars, as among all other nations of shepherds, who are generally ignorant of the use of money, cattle are the instruments of commerce and the measures of value. Wealth, therefore, according to them, consisted in cattle, as, according to the Spaniards, it consisted in gold and silver. Of the two, the Tartar notion, perhaps, was the nearest to the truth.
Mr Locke remarks a distinction between money and other moveable goods. All other moveable goods, he says, are of so consumable a nature, that the wealth which consists in them cannot be much depended on; and a nation which abounds in them one year may, without any exportation, but merely by their own waste and extravagance, be in great want of them the next. Money, on the contrary, is a steady friend, which, though it may travel about from hand to hand, yet if it can be kept from going out of the country, is not very liable to be wasted and consumed. Gold and silver, therefore, are, according to him, the must solid and substantial part of the moveable wealth of a nation; and to multiply those metals ought, he thinks, upon that account, to be the great object of its political economy.
Others admit, that if a nation could be separated from all the world, it would be of no consequence how much or how little money circulated in it. The consumable goods, which were circulated by means of this money, would only be exchanged for a greater or a smaller number of pieces; but the real wealth or poverty of the country, they allow, would depend altogether upon the abundance or scarcity of those consumable goods. But it is otherwise, they think, with countries which have connections with foreign nations, and which are obliged to carry on foreign wars, and to maintain fleets and armies in distant countries. This, they say, cannot be done, but by sending abroad money to pay them with; and a nation cannot send much money abroad, unless it has a good deal at home. Every such nation, therefore, must endeavour, in time of peace, to accumulate gold and silver, that when occasion requires, it may have wherewithal to carry on foreign wars.
In consequence of those popular notions, all the different nations of Europe have studied, though to little purpose, every possible means of accumulating gold and silver in their respective countries. Spain and Portugal, the proprietors of the principal mines which supply Europe with those metals, have either prohibited their exportation under the severest penalties, or subjected it to a considerable duty. The like prohibition seems anciently to have made a part of the policy of most other European nations. It is even to be found, where we should least of all expect to find it, in some old Scotch acts of Parliament, which forbid, under heavy penalties, the carrying gold or silver forth of the kingdom. The like policy anciently took place both in France and England.
When those countries became commercial, the merchants found this prohibition, upon many occasions, extremely inconvenient. They could frequently buy more advantageously with gold and silver, than with any other commodity, the foreign goods which they wanted, either to import into their own, or to carry to some other foreign country. They remonstrated, therefore, against this prohibition as hurtful to trade.
They represented, first, that the exportation of gold and silver, in order to purchase foreign goods, did not always diminish the quantity of those metals in the kingdom; that, on the contrary, it might frequently increase the quantity; because, if the consumption of foreign goods was not thereby increased in the country, those goods might be re-exported to foreign countries, and being there sold for a large profit, might bring back much more treasure than was originally sent out to purchase them. Mr Mun compares this operation of foreign trade to the seed-time and harvest of agriculture. “If we only behold,” says he, “the actions of the husbandman in the seed time, when he casteth away much good corn into the ground, we shall account him rather a madman than a husbandman. But when we consider his labours in the harvest, which is the end of his endeavours, we shall find the worth and plentiful increase of his actions.”
They represented, secondly, that this prohibition could not hinder the exportation of gold and silver, which, on account of the smallness of their bulk in proportion to their value, could easily be smuggled abroad. That this exportation could only be prevented by a proper attention to what they called the balance of trade. That when the country exported to a greater value than it imported, a balance became due to it from foreign nations, which was necessarily paid to it in gold and silver, and thereby increased the quantity of those metals in the kingdom. But that when it imported to a greater value than it exported, a contrary balance became due to foreign nations, which was necessarily paid to them in the same manner, and thereby diminished that quantity: that in this case, to prohibit the exportation of those metals, could not prevent it, but only, by making it more dangerous, render it more expensive: that the exchange was thereby turned more against the country which owed the balance, than it otherwise might have been; the merchant who purchased a bill upon the foreign country being obliged to pay the banker who sold it, not only for the natural risk, trouble, and expense of sending the money thither, but for the extraordinary risk arising from the prohibition; but that the more the exchange was against any country, the more the balance of trade became necessarily against it; the money of that country becoming necessarily of so much less value, in comparison with that of the country to which the balance was due. That if the exchange between England and Holland, for example, was five per cent. against England, it would require 105 ounces of silver in England to purchase a bill for 100 ounces of silver in Holland: that 105 ounces of silver in England, therefore, would be worth only 100 ounces of silver in Holland, and would purchase only a proportionable quantity of Dutch goods; but that 100 ounces of silver in Holland, on the contrary, would be worth 105 ounces in England, and would purchase a proportionable quantity of English goods; that the English goods which were sold to Holland would be sold so much cheaper, and the Dutch goods which were sold to England so much dearer, by the difference of the exchange: that the one would draw so much less Dutch money to England, and the other so much more English money to Holland, as this difference amounted to: and that the balance of trade, therefore, would necessarily be so much more against England, and would require a greater balance of gold and silver to be exported to Holland.
Those arguments were partly solid and partly sophistical. They were solid, so far as they asserted that the exportation of gold and silver in trade might frequently be advantageous to the country. They were solid, too, in asserting that no prohibition could prevent their exportation, when private people found any advantage in exporting them. But they were sophistical, in supposing, that either to preserve or to augment the quantity of those metals required more the attention of government, than to preserve or to augment the quantity of any other useful commodities, which the freedom of trade, without any such attention, never fails to supply in the proper quantity. They were sophistical, too, perhaps, in asserting that the high price of exchange necessarily increased what they called the unfavourable balance of trade, or occasioned the exportation of a greater quantity of gold and silver. That high price, indeed, was extremely disadvantageous to the merchants who had any money to pay in foreign countries. They paid so much dearer for the bills which their bankers granted them upon those countries. But though the risk arising from the prohibition might occasion some extraordinary expense to the bankers, it would not necessarily carry any more money out of the country. This expense would generally be all laid out in the country, in smuggling the money out of it, and could seldom occasion the exportation of a single sixpence beyond the precise sum drawn for. The high price of exchange, too, would naturally dispose the merchants to endeavour to make their exports nearly balance their imports, in order that they might have this high exchange to pay upon as small a sum as possible. The high price of exchange, besides, must necessarily have operated as a tax, in raising the price of foreign goods, and thereby diminishing their consumption. It would tend, therefore, not to increase, but to diminish, what they called the unfavourable balance of trade, and consequently the exportation of gold and silver.
Such as they were, however, those arguments convinced the people to whom they were addressed. They were addressed by merchants to parliaments and to the councils of princes, to nobles, and to country gentlemen; by those who were supposed to understand trade, to those who were conscious to them selves that they knew nothing about the matter. That foreign trade enriched the country, experience demonstrated to the nobles and country gentlemen, as well as to the merchants; but how, or in what manner, none of them well knew. The merchants knew perfectly in what manner it enriched themselves, it was their business to know it. But to know in what manner it enriched the country, was no part of their business. The subject never came into their consideration, but when they had occasion to apply to their country for some change in the laws relating to foreign trade. It then became necessary to say something about the beneficial effects of foreign trade, and the manner in which those effects were obstructed by the laws as they then stood. To the judges who were to decide the business, it appeared a most satisfactory account of the matter, when they were told that foreign trade brought money into the country, but that the laws in question hindered it from bringing so much as it otherwise would do. Those arguments, therefore, produced the wished-for effect. The prohibition of exporting gold and silver was, in France and England, confined to the coin of those respective countries. The exportation of foreign coin and of bullion was made free. In Holland, and in some other places, this liberty was extended even to the coin of the country. The attention of government was turned away from guarding against the exportation of gold and silver, to watch over the balance of trade, as the only cause which could occasion any augmentation or diminution of those metals. From one fruitless care, it was turned away to another care much more intricate, much more embarrassing, and just equally fruitless. The title of Mun’s book, England’s Treasure in Foreign Trade, became a fundamental maxim in the political economy, not of England only, but of all other commercial countries. The inland or home trade, the most important of all, the trade in which an equal capital affords the greatest revenue, and creates the greatest employment to the people of the country, was considered as subsidiary only to foreign trade. It neither brought money into the country, it was said, nor carried any out of it. The country, therefore, could never become either richer or poorer by means of it, except so far as its prosperity or decay might indirectly influence the state of foreign trade.
English
OF SYSTEMS OF POLITICAL ECONOMY.
Political economy, regarded as a branch of the knowledge required of a statesman or legislator, has two distinct aims: first, to provide the people with ample revenue or subsistence—or, more precisely, to enable them to provide it for themselves; and second, to provide the state or commonwealth with enough revenue for public services. It seeks to enrich both the people and the sovereign.
The different paths by which different ages and nations have grown prosperous have given rise to two systems of political economy concerning the enrichment of the people. One may be called the system of commerce, the other the system of agriculture. I shall try to explain both as fully and clearly as I can, beginning with the system of commerce. It is the modern system, and the one best understood in our own country and our own time.
OF THE PRINCIPLE OF THE COMMERCIAL OR MERCANTILE SYSTEM.
The popular belief that wealth consists of money, or of gold and silver, arises naturally from money’s two functions: it is the instrument of commerce and the measure of value. As the instrument of commerce, money enables us to obtain whatever else we need more readily than any other commodity can. The great difficulty, we always find, is getting money. Once we have it, any subsequent purchase is easy. As the measure of value, money provides the quantity against which we estimate the value of all other commodities in exchange. We say a rich man is worth a great deal and a poor man is worth very little money. A frugal man, or one eager to grow rich, is said to love money; a careless, generous, or extravagant man is said to care little about it. To grow rich is to get money; in ordinary speech, wealth and money are, in short, treated as synonymous in every respect.
Just as a rich man is thought to have plenty of money, so a rich country is thought to abound in it; and piling up gold and silver in a country is thought the quickest way to enrich it. For some time after America was discovered, Spaniards arriving on an unknown coast would first ask whether there was gold or silver in the neighborhood. From the answer they judged whether it was worth establishing a settlement there or conquering the country. Plano Carpino, a monk sent as ambassador by the king of France to a son of the famous Gengis Khan, says that the Tartars frequently asked whether the kingdom of France had plenty of sheep and oxen. Their question had the same purpose as the Spaniards’: they wanted to know whether the country was rich enough to be worth conquering. Among the Tartars, as among other pastoral peoples generally unfamiliar with money, livestock served as the instrument of commerce and the measure of value. In their eyes, therefore, wealth consisted in livestock, just as in the Spaniards’ eyes it consisted in gold and silver. Of these two beliefs, the Tartar one was perhaps closer to the truth.
Mr Locke distinguishes money from other movable goods. All other movable goods, he says, are so readily consumed that the wealth they constitute cannot be much relied upon: a nation abundant in them one year may, without exporting any, be in great want of them the next through its own waste and extravagance. Money, by contrast, is a steadfast friend; though it passes from hand to hand, it is not readily wasted or consumed if it can be kept from leaving the country. Gold and silver are therefore, in his view, the most solid and substantial part of a nation’s movable wealth, and increasing its supply of these metals should accordingly be a principal aim of its political economy.
Others concede that if a nation could be cut off from the rest of the world, the amount of money circulating within it would not matter. The consumable goods circulated through money would merely exchange for a greater or smaller number of coins; the country’s real wealth or poverty, they acknowledge, would depend entirely on the abundance or scarcity of those goods. But, they think, the situation is different for countries connected with foreign nations and obliged to fight wars abroad and maintain fleets and armies in distant lands. They say this cannot be done without sending money abroad to pay for it, and a nation cannot send much money abroad unless it has plenty at home. Every such nation must therefore try to accumulate gold and silver in peacetime, so that it has the means to conduct foreign wars when the need arises.
Under the influence of these popular ideas, every European nation has tried every conceivable way, with little success, to accumulate gold and silver at home. Spain and Portugal, which own the principal mines supplying Europe with those metals, have either prohibited their export under the severest penalties or subjected it to a substantial duty. A similar ban seems once to have formed part of the policy of most other European nations. It appears even where we would least expect it: some old Scotch acts of Parliament forbid the removal of gold or silver from the kingdom under heavy penalties. The same policy formerly prevailed in both France and England.
When those countries became commercial, merchants found this ban extremely inconvenient on many occasions. They could often buy the foreign goods they wanted, whether for import into their own country or for shipment to another, on better terms with gold and silver than with any other commodity. They therefore protested that the ban harmed trade.
First, they argued that exporting gold and silver to buy foreign goods did not always reduce the quantity of those metals in the kingdom; on the contrary, it could often increase it. If domestic consumption of foreign goods did not thereby increase, those goods could be exported again to other countries, where a profitable sale could bring back far more treasure than had first been sent out to buy them. Mr Mun compares this operation of foreign trade with sowing and harvesting in agriculture. “If we only behold,” he says, “the actions of the husbandman in the seed time, when he casteth away much good corn into the ground, we shall account him rather a madman than a husbandman. But when we consider his labors in the harvest, which is the end of his endeavors, we shall find the worth and plentiful increase of his actions.”
Second, they argued that a ban could not stop gold and silver from leaving the country: because these metals are so small in bulk relative to their value, they can readily be smuggled abroad. Only proper attention to what they called the balance of trade could stop their export. If the country exported goods worth more than its imports, foreign nations would owe it the difference, which would necessarily be paid in gold and silver and increase its supply of those metals. But if its imports were worth more than its exports, it would owe the difference to foreign nations and necessarily pay in the same way, diminishing its supply. In that case, a prohibition on exporting the metals could not prevent their departure, but would make it more costly by making it more dangerous. The exchange rate would therefore move further against the country that owed the balance than it otherwise would: a merchant buying a bill on a foreign country would have to pay the banker selling it not just for the ordinary risk, trouble, and expense of sending money there, but for the additional risk created by the ban. The more the exchange rate moved against a country, they said, the more its balance of trade would necessarily turn against it, since its money would necessarily lose that much value relative to the money of the country to which the balance was owed. If the rate between England and Holland, for example, was five per cent. against England, it would take 105 ounces of silver in England to buy a bill payable in Holland for 100 ounces of silver. Thus 105 ounces of silver in England would be worth only 100 ounces in Holland, buying only a corresponding quantity of Dutch goods; conversely, 100 ounces of silver in Holland would be worth 105 ounces in England and buy a corresponding quantity of English goods. English goods sold to Holland would sell that much cheaper, and Dutch goods sold to England that much dearer, because of the difference in exchange rates. The former would bring that much less Dutch money into England, while the latter would take that much more English money into Holland. The balance of trade would therefore necessarily turn further against England, requiring a greater balance of gold and silver to be sent to Holland.
These arguments were partly sound and partly misleading. They were sound in maintaining that exporting gold and silver in the course of trade could often benefit a country, and sound too in maintaining that no ban could prevent such exports when private individuals stood to gain by them. But they were misleading in assuming that maintaining or increasing the supply of these metals needed any more government attention than maintaining or increasing the supply of other useful commodities, which free trade unfailingly supplies in the proper quantity without such attention. They were perhaps misleading too in claiming that a high exchange rate necessarily increased what they called an unfavorable balance of trade or caused more gold and silver to be exported. A high rate was certainly very harmful to merchants who owed money abroad: they paid more for the bills their bankers issued on foreign countries. But though the danger posed by the ban could impose an additional cost on the bankers, it did not necessarily carry any more money out of the country. That cost would generally be incurred wholly within the country in smuggling money out, and would seldom lead to the export of a single sixpence beyond the precise amount of the bill. A high exchange rate would also naturally encourage merchants to bring their exports as close as possible to their imports, so that they paid the high rate on as little as possible. Moreover, by raising the price of foreign goods, the high rate would necessarily act like a tax and reduce their consumption. It would therefore tend not to increase but to reduce what they called the unfavorable balance of trade, and with it the export of gold and silver.
Such as they were, these arguments persuaded their audience. Merchants presented them to parliaments and the councils of princes, to nobles and country gentlemen: people presumed to understand trade addressed people who knew themselves to be ignorant of it. Experience showed the nobles and country gentlemen, no less than the merchants, that foreign trade enriched the country, but none of them properly understood how. Merchants understood perfectly how it enriched them; understanding that was their business. Understanding how it enriched the country was not. They considered that question only when they needed to seek a change in the laws governing foreign trade. Then they had to say something about the benefits of that trade and the way existing laws obstructed them. The authorities judging the matter found it entirely satisfactory to be told that foreign trade brought money into the country, while the laws at issue prevented it from bringing in as much as it otherwise would. These arguments therefore achieved their desired effect. In France and England, the ban on exporting gold and silver was limited to each country’s own coin. Foreign coin and bullion could be exported freely. In Holland and some other places, the freedom extended even to domestic coin. Government ceased trying to guard against the export of gold and silver and instead watched the balance of trade, as though it alone could cause the supply of those metals to grow or shrink. One fruitless concern gave way to another, far more intricate and troublesome, but just as fruitless. The title of Mun’s book, England’s Treasure in Foreign Trade, became a fundamental maxim of political economy not only in England but in every commercial country. Domestic or home trade—the most important trade of all, in which the same capital provides the greatest revenue and gives the country’s people the most employment—was regarded as subordinate to foreign trade. It neither brought money into the country nor carried it away, people said. The country could therefore become richer or poorer through domestic trade only insofar as its prosperity or decline indirectly affected foreign trade.
Book IV, Chapter I, 2
18th-century English
A country that has no mines of its own, must undoubtedly draw its gold and silver from foreign countries, in the same manner as one that has no vineyards of its own must draw its wines. It does not seem necessary, however, that the attention of government should be more turned towards the one than towards the other object. A country that has wherewithal to buy wine, will always get the wine which it has occasion for; and a country that has wherewithal to buy gold and silver, will never be in want of those metals. They are to be bought for a certain price, like all other commodities; and as they are the price of all other commodities, so all other commodities are the price of those metals. We trust, with perfect security, that the freedom of trade, without any attention of government, will always supply us with the wine which we have occasion for; and we may trust, with equal security, that it will always supply us with all the gold and silver which we can afford to purchase or to employ, either in circulating our commodities or in other uses.
The quantity of every commodity which human industry can either purchase or produce, naturally regulates itself in every country according to the effectual demand, or according to the demand of those who are willing to pay the whole rent, labour, and profits, which must be paid in order to prepare and bring it to market. But no commodities regulate themselves more easily or more exactly, according to this effectual demand, than gold and silver; because, on account of the small bulk and great value of those metals, no commodities can be more easily transported from one place to another; from the places where they are cheap, to those where they are dear; from the places where they exceed, to those where they fall short of this effectual demand. If there were in England, for example, an effectual demand for an additional quantity of gold, a packet-boat could bring from Lisbon, or from wherever else it was to be had, fifty tons of gold, which could be coined into more than five millions of guineas. But if there were an effectual demand for grain to the same value, to import it would require, at five guineas a-ton, a million of tons of shipping, or a thousand ships of a thousand tons each. The navy of England would not be sufficient.
When the quantity of gold and silver imported into any country exceeds the effectual demand, no vigilance of government can prevent their exportation. All the sanguinary laws of Spain and Portugal are not able to keep their gold and silver at home. The continual importations from Peru and Brazil exceed the effectual demand of those countries, and sink the price of those metals there below that in the neighbouring countries. If, on the contrary, in any particular country, their quantity fell short of the effectual demand, so as to raise their price above that of the neighbouring countries, the government would have no occasion to take any pains to import them. If it were even to take pains to prevent their importation, it would not be able to effectuate it. Those metals, when the Spartans had got wherewithal to purchase them, broke through all the barriers which the laws of Lycurgus opposed to their entrance into Lacedaemon. All the sanguinary laws of the customs are not able to prevent the importation of the teas of the Dutch and Gottenburg East India companies; because somewhat cheaper than those of the British company. A pound of tea, however, is about a hundred times the bulk of one of the highest prices, sixteen shillings, that is commonly paid for it in silver, and more than two thousand times the bulk of the same price in gold, and, consequently, just so many times more difficult to smuggle.
It is partly owing to the easy transportation of gold and silver, from the places where they abound to those where they are wanted, that the price of those metals does not fluctuate continually, like that of the greater part of other commodities, which are hindered by their bulk from shifting their situation, when the market happens to be either over or under-stocked with them. The price of those metals, indeed, is not altogether exempted from variation; but the changes to which it is liable are generally slow, gradual, and uniform. In Europe, for example, it is supposed, without much foundation, perhaps, that during the course of the present and preceding century, they have been constantly, but gradually, sinking in their value, on account of the continual importations from the Spanish West Indies. But to make any sudden change in the price of gold and silver, so as to raise or lower at once, sensibly and remarkably, the money price of all other commodities, requires such a revolution in commerce as that occasioned by the discovery of America.
If, not withstanding all this, gold and silver should at any time fall short in a country which has wherewithal to purchase them, there are more expedients for supplying their place, than that of almost any other commodity. If the materials of manufacture are wanted, industry must stop. If provisions are wanted, the people must starve. But if money is wanted, barter will supply its place, though with a good deal of inconveniency. Buying and selling upon credit, and the different dealers compensating their credits with one another, once a-month, or once a-year, will supply it with less inconveniency. A well-regulated paper-money will supply it not only without any inconveniency, but, in some cases, with some advantages. Upon every account, therefore, the attention of government never was so unnecessarily employed, as when directed to watch over the preservation or increase of the quantity of money in any country.
No complaint, however, is more common than that of a scarcity of money. Money, like wine, must always be scarce with those who have neither wherewithal to buy it, nor credit to borrow it. Those who have either, will seldom be in want either of the money, or of the wine which they have occasion for. This complaint, however, of the scarcity of money, is not always confined to improvident spendthrifts. It is sometimes general through a whole mercantile town and the country in its neighbourhood. Over-trading is the common cause of it. Sober men, whose projects have been disproportioned to their capitals, are as likely to have neither wherewithal to buy money, nor credit to borrow it, as prodigals, whose expense has been disproportioned to their revenue. Before their projects can be brought to bear, their stock is gone, and their credit with it. They run about everywhere to borrow money, and everybody tells them that they have none to lend. Even such general complaints of the scarcity of money do not always prove that the usual number of gold and silver pieces are not circulating in the country, but that many people want those pieces who have nothing to give for them. When the profits of trade happen to be greater than ordinary over-trading becomes a general error, both among great and small dealers. They do not always send more money abroad than usual, but they buy upon credit, both at home and abroad, an unusual quantity of goods, which they send to some distant market, in hopes that the returns will come in before the demand for payment. The demand comes before the returns, and they have nothing at hand with which they can either purchase money or give solid security for borrowing. It is not any scarcity of gold and silver, but the difficulty which such people find in borrowing, and which their creditor find in getting payment, that occasions the general complaint of the scarcity of money.
It would be too ridiculous to go about seriously to prove, that wealth does not consist in money, or in gold and silver; but in what money purchases, and is valuable only for purchasing. Money, no doubt, makes always a part of the national capital; but it has already been shown that it generally makes but a small part, and always the most unprofitable part of it.
It is not because wealth consists more essentially in money than in goods, that the merchant finds it generally more easy to buy goods with money, than to buy money with goods; but because money is the known and established instrument of commerce, for which every thing is readily given in exchange, but which is not always with equal readiness to be got in exchange for every thing. The greater part of goods, besides, are more perishable than money, and he may frequently sustain a much greater loss by keeping them. When his goods are upon hand, too, he is more liable to such demands for money as he may not be able to answer, than when he has got their price in his coffers. Over and above all this, his profit arises more directly from selling than from buying; and he is, upon all these accounts, generally much more anxious to exchange his goods for money than his money for goods. But though a particular merchant, with abundance of goods in his warehouse, may sometimes be ruined by not being able to sell them in time, a nation or country is not liable to the same accident, The whole capital of a merchant frequently consists in perishable goods destined for purchasing money. But it is but a very small part of the annual produce of the land and labour of a country, which can ever be destined for purchasing gold and silver from their neighbours. The far greater part is circulated and consumed among themselves; and even of the surplus which is sent abroad, the greater part is generally destined for the purchase of other foreign goods. Though gold and silver, therefore, could not be had in exchange for the goods destined to purchase them, the nation would not be ruined. It might, indeed, suffer some loss and inconveniency, and be forced upon some of those expedients which are necessary for supplying the place of money. The annual produce of its land and labour, however, would be the same, or very nearly the same as usual; because the same, or very nearly the same consumable capital would be employed in maintaining it. And though goods do not always draw money so readily as money draws goods, in the long-run they draw it more necessarily than even it draws them. Goods can serve many other purposes besides purchasing money, but money can serve no other purpose besides purchasing goods. Money, therefore, necessarily runs after goods, but goods do not always or necessarily run after money. The man who buys, does not always mean to sell again, but frequently to use or to consume; whereas he who sells always means to buy again. The one may frequently have done the whole, but the other can never have done more than the one half of his business. It is not for its own sake that men desire money, but for the sake of what they can purchase with it.
Consumable commodities, it is said, are soon destroyed; whereas gold and silver are of a more durable nature, and were it not for this continual exportation, might be accumulated for ages together, to the incredible augmentation of the real wealth of the country. Nothing, therefore, it is pretended, can be more disadvantageous to any country, than the trade which consists in the exchange of such lasting for such perishable commodities. We do not, however, reckon that trade disadvantageous, which consists in the exchange of the hardware of England for the wines of France, and yet hardware is a very durable commodity, and were it not for this continual exportation, might too be accumulated for ages together, to the incredible augmentation of the pots and pans of the country. But it readily occurs, that the number of such utensils is in every country necessarily limited by the use which there is for them; that it would be absurd to have more pots and pans than were necessary for cooking the victuals usually consumed there; and that, if the quantity of victuals were to increase, the number of pots and pans would readily increase along with it; a part of the increased quantity of victuals being employed in purchasing them, or in maintaining an additional number of workmen whose business it was to make them. It should as readily occur, that the quantity of gold and silver is, in every country, limited by the use which there is for those metals; that their use consists in circulating commodities, as coin, and in affording a species of household furniture, as plate; that the quantity of coin in every country is regulated by the value of the commodities which are to be circulated by it; increase that value, and immediately a part of it will be sent abroad to purchase, wherever it is to be had, the additional quantity of coin requisite for circulating them: that the quantity of plate is regulated by the number and wealth of those private families who choose to indulge themselves in that sort of magnificence; increase the number and wealth of such families, and a part of this increased wealth will most probably be employed in purchasing, wherever it is to be found, an additional quantity of plate; that to attempt to increase the wealth of any country, either by introducing or by detaining in it an unnecessary quantity of gold and silver, is as absurd as it would be to attempt to increase the good cheer of private families, by obliging them to keep an unnecessary number of kitchen utensils. As the expense of purchasing those unnecessary utensils would diminish, instead of increasing, either the quantity or goodness of the family provisions; so the expense of purchasing an unnecessary quantity of gold and silver must, in every country, as necessarily diminish the wealth which feeds, clothes, and lodges, which maintains and employs the people. Gold and silver, whether in the shape of coin or of plate, are utensils, it must be remembered, as much as the furniture of the kitchen. Increase the use of them, increase the consumable commodities which are to be circulated, managed, and prepared by means of them, and you will infallibly increase the quantity; but if you attempt by extraordinary means to increase the quantity, you will as infallibly diminish the use, and even the quantity too, which in those metals can never be greater than what the use requires. Were they ever to be accumulated beyond this quantity, their transportation is so easy, and the loss which attends their lying idle and unemployed so great, that no law could prevent their being immediately sent out of the country.
English
A country without mines of its own must certainly obtain gold and silver from abroad, just as one without vineyards must obtain its wine from abroad. But there seems no reason for government to devote more attention to obtaining the one than the other. A country with the means to buy wine will always obtain the wine it needs; a country with the means to buy gold and silver will never lack those metals. Like other commodities, they can be bought at a price; and just as they are the price of other commodities, so other commodities are their price. We can be entirely confident that freedom of trade will always supply us with the wine we need without any government attention; we can be equally confident that it will supply all the gold and silver we can afford to buy or employ, whether to circulate our commodities or for other uses.
The quantity of every commodity that human industry can buy or produce naturally adjusts itself in each country to effective demand: the demand of people willing to pay the full rent, wages, and profits required to prepare it and bring it to market. No commodities, however, adjust more readily or more precisely to effective demand than gold and silver. Their small bulk and great value make them easier than any others to move from one place to another: from places where they are cheap to places where they are dear, and from places where their supply exceeds effective demand to places where it falls short. If England, for example, had an effective demand for more gold, a packet boat could bring fifty tons of gold from Lisbon or wherever it could be obtained, enough to coin more than five millions of guineas. But importing grain of the same value, at five guineas a-ton, would require a million of tons of shipping, or a thousand ships of a thousand tons each. England’s navy would not suffice.
When a country imports more gold and silver than effective demand calls for, no vigilance on the part of government can prevent their export. All the brutal laws of Spain and Portugal cannot keep their gold and silver at home. Continual imports from Peru and Brazil exceed effective demand in those countries and drive the price of the metals there below their price in neighboring countries. Conversely, if the supply of those metals in a particular country fell short of effective demand, raising their price above the price in neighboring countries, the government would have no need to make any effort to import them. Even if it tried to prevent their import, it could not succeed. Once the Spartans had the means to buy them, these metals broke through every barrier that the laws of Lycurgus placed in their way into Lacedaemon. Nor can all the harsh customs laws prevent the import of teas from the Dutch and Gottenburg East India companies, because they are somewhat cheaper than the British company’s teas. Yet a pound of tea is about a hundred times bulkier than one of the highest prices commonly paid for it in silver, sixteen shillings, and more than two thousand times bulkier than the same price in gold. It is therefore just that much harder to smuggle.
Part of the reason the price of gold and silver does not fluctuate constantly, as the prices of most other commodities do, is that the metals move so easily from where they abound to where they are needed. Other commodities, because of their bulk, cannot readily change places when their market happens to be overstocked or undersupplied. The price of the metals is not, of course, entirely free from variation, but its changes are usually slow, gradual, and uniform. In Europe, for example, it is supposed—perhaps without much foundation—that throughout the present and preceding century their value has been falling steadily but gradually because of continual imports from the Spanish West Indies. But an abrupt change in the price of gold and silver, enough to raise or lower the money price of every other commodity at once in a noticeable and substantial way, requires a revolution in commerce like the one brought about by the discovery of America.
If, despite all this, gold and silver were ever scarce in a country that had the means to buy them, there would be more ways to replace them than almost any other commodity. Without manufacturing materials, industry must stop; without provisions, people must starve. But when money is lacking, barter can take its place, though at considerable inconvenience. Buying and selling on credit, with different dealers settling their accounts against one another once a-month or once a-year, can replace it with less inconvenience. Well-regulated paper money can replace it not only without inconvenience but, in some cases, with some advantages. On every count, therefore, government attention has never been more needlessly employed than when it has been directed toward preserving or increasing the quantity of money in a country.
Yet no complaint is more common than a shortage of money. Money, like wine, will always be scarce for those with neither the means to buy it nor the credit to borrow it. People with either will seldom lack the money or wine they need. Complaints of a shortage of money, however, do not always come only from reckless spendthrifts. Sometimes they are widespread throughout a trading town and the country around it. The usual cause is overtrading. Prudent men whose ventures exceed their capital are as likely to lack both the means to buy money and the credit to borrow it as spendthrifts whose expenses exceed their revenue. Before their ventures bear fruit, their stock is exhausted, and their credit along with it. They go everywhere in search of loans, and everyone tells them they have nothing to lend. Even widespread complaints of a shortage of money do not always show that fewer gold and silver coins than usual circulate in the country, but rather that many people want coins and have nothing to offer in exchange. When trading profits are higher than usual, overtrading becomes a common error among large dealers and small alike. They do not necessarily send more money abroad than usual; rather, at home and abroad they buy an unusual quantity of goods on credit and send them to distant markets, hoping that the returns will arrive before payment is due. Payment falls due first, and they have nothing on hand with which to buy money or provide sound security for a loan. The general complaint of a shortage of money arises not from any scarcity of gold and silver but from the difficulty such people face in borrowing and their creditors face in collecting payment.
It would be absurd to make a serious effort to prove that wealth consists not of money, or gold and silver, but of what money buys, and that money has value only because it buys things. Money undoubtedly always forms part of a nation’s capital; but it has already been shown to make up only a small part of it in general, and always its least profitable part.
A merchant generally finds it easier to buy goods with money than to buy money with goods, not because wealth resides more truly in money than in goods, but because money is the recognized and established instrument of commerce, readily accepted for everything, though not equally readily obtainable in exchange for everything. Most goods, moreover, perish faster than money, and he may often suffer a far greater loss by keeping them. While his goods remain unsold, too, he is more exposed to demands for money that he cannot meet than he is once their price is in his coffers. Beyond this, his profit comes more directly from selling than from buying. For all these reasons he is generally much more eager to exchange his goods for money than to exchange his money for goods. Yet although an individual merchant with a warehouse full of goods may sometimes be ruined if he cannot sell them in time, a nation or country faces no similar fate. A merchant’s entire capital often consists of perishable goods intended to buy money. But only a very small part of the annual produce of a country’s land and labor can ever be intended to buy gold and silver from its neighbors. By far the greater part circulates and is consumed at home; and even of the surplus sent abroad, the greater part is generally intended to buy other foreign goods. Thus, even if gold and silver could not be obtained in exchange for the goods set aside to purchase them, the nation would not be ruined. It might suffer some loss and inconvenience and have to resort to some of the expedients needed to replace money. The annual produce of its land and labor, however, would remain the same, or nearly so, as usual, because the same, or almost the same, consumable capital would be employed to maintain that labor. And though goods do not always command money as readily as money commands goods, in the long run they command it more necessarily than money commands them. Goods serve many purposes besides buying money, whereas money serves no purpose but to buy goods. Money must therefore seek out goods, but goods do not always or necessarily seek out money. A buyer does not always intend to sell again; often he intends to use or consume what he buys. A seller, by contrast, always intends to buy again. The buyer may often have completed the whole of his business, but the seller can never have completed more than half of his. People want money not for its own sake but for what they can buy with it.
Consumable goods, it is said, are soon destroyed, whereas gold and silver last longer; if not continually exported, they might accumulate for ages, bringing an incredible increase in the country’s real wealth. On this account, it is claimed, no trade can harm a country more than exchanging such lasting things for such perishable ones. Yet we do not call the exchange of English hardware for French wine a harmful trade, although hardware lasts a very long time and, without its continual export, might likewise accumulate for ages, incredibly increasing the country’s stock of pots and pans. But it is readily apparent that every country’s need sets a limit on the number of such utensils. It would be absurd to keep more pots and pans than are needed to cook the food ordinarily eaten there; and if the supply of food grew, the number of pots and pans would readily grow along with it, as some of the additional food was used to buy them or support more workers who made them. It should be just as apparent that every country’s need for gold and silver sets a limit on their quantity. As coin they circulate commodities, and as plate they provide a kind of household furnishing. The quantity of coin is governed by the value of the commodities it must circulate: increase that value, and part of it will immediately be sent abroad to buy, wherever it can be found, the additional coin required to circulate those commodities. The quantity of plate is governed by the number and wealth of private families who choose to indulge in that kind of splendor: increase their number and wealth, and some of the additional wealth will very likely be spent buying more plate wherever it can be found. To try to make a country richer by introducing or retaining more gold and silver than it needs is as absurd as trying to improve the meals of private families by forcing them to keep more kitchen utensils than they need. Just as buying those unnecessary utensils would reduce rather than increase the quantity or quality of the family’s provisions, buying unnecessary gold and silver must likewise diminish the wealth that feeds, clothes, and houses the people, and supports and employs them. Gold and silver, whether coin or plate, are utensils no less than kitchen furnishings; this must be remembered. Increase their use—raise the quantity of consumable goods that must be circulated, handled, and prepared with their help—and you will unfailingly increase their quantity. But if you try to increase their quantity by extraordinary measures, you will just as surely diminish their use, and even diminish their quantity, which can never exceed what that use requires. If they ever accumulated beyond that amount, they would be so easy to transport, and leaving them idle and unemployed would involve such a loss, that no law could prevent their immediate export.
Book IV, Chapter I, 3
18th-century English
It is not always necessary to accumulate gold and silver, in order to enable a country to carry on foreign wars, and to maintain fleets and armies in distant countries. Fleets and armies are maintained, not with gold and silver, but with consumable goods. The nation which, from the annual produce of its domestic industry, from the annual revenue arising out of its lands, and labour, and consumable stock, has wherewithal to purchase those consumable goods in distant countries, can maintain foreign wars there.
A nation may purchase the pay and provisions of an army in a distant country three different ways; by sending abroad either, first, some part of its accumulated gold and silver; or, secondly, some part of the annual produce of its manufactures; or, last of all, some part of its annual rude produce.
The gold and silver which can properly be considered as accumulated, or stored up in any country, may be distinguished into three parts; first, the circulating money; secondly, the plate of private families; and, last of all, the money which may have been collected by many years parsimony, and laid up in the treasury of the prince.
It can seldom happen that much can be spared from the circulating money of the country; because in that there can seldom be much redundancy. The value of goods annually bought and sold in any country requires a certain quantity of money to circulate and distribute them to their proper consumers, and can give employment to no more. The channel of circulation necessarily draws to itself a sum sufficient to fill it, and never admits any more. Something, however, is generally withdrawn from this channel in the case of foreign war. By the great number of people who are maintained abroad, fewer are maintained at home. Fewer goods are circulated there, and less money becomes necessary to circulate them. An extraordinary quantity of paper money of some sort or other, too, such as exchequer notes, navy bills, and bank bills, in England, is generally issued upon such occasions, and, by supplying the place of circulating gold and silver, gives an opportunity of sending a greater quantity of it abroad. All this, however, could afford but a poor resource for maintaining a foreign war, of great expense, and several years duration.
The melting down of the plate of private families has, upon every occasion, been found a still more insignificant one. The French, in the beginning of the last war, did not derive so much advantage from this expedient as to compensate the loss of the fashion.
The accumulated treasures of the prince have in former times afforded a much greater and more lasting resource. In the present times, if you except the king of Prussia, to accumulate treasure seems to be no part of the policy of European princes.
The funds which maintained the foreign wars of the present century, the most expensive perhaps which history records, seem to have had little dependency upon the exportation either of the circulating money, or of the plate of private families, or of the treasure of the prince. The last French war cost Great Britain upwards of £90,000,000, including not only the £75,000,000 of new debt that was contracted, but the additional 2s. in the pound land-tax, and what was annually borrowed of the sinking fund. More than two-thirds of this expense were laid out in distant countries; in Germany, Portugal, America, in the ports of the Mediterranean, in the East and West Indies. The kings of England had no accumulated treasure. We never heard of any extraordinary quantity of plate being melted down. The circulating gold and silver of the country had not been supposed to exceed £18,000,000. Since the late recoinage of the gold, however, it is believed to have been a good deal under-rated. Let us suppose, therefore, according to the most exaggerated computation which I remember to have either seen or heard of, that, gold and silver together, it amounted to £30,000,000. Had the war been carried on by means of our money, the whole of it must, even according to this computation, have been sent out and returned again, at least twice in a period of between six and seven years. Should this be supposed, it would afford the most decisive argument, to demonstrate how unnecessary it is for government to watch over the preservation of money, since, upon this supposition, the whole money of the country must have gone from it, and returned to it again, two different times in so short a period, without any body’s knowing any thing of the matter. The channel of circulation, however, never appeared more empty than usual during any part of this period. Few people wanted money who had wherewithal to pay for it. The profits of foreign trade, indeed, were greater than usual during the whole war, but especially towards the end of it. This occasioned, what it always occasions, a general over-trading in all the ports of Great Britain; and this again occasioned the usual complaint of the scarcity of money, which always follows over-trading. Many people wanted it, who had neither wherewithal to buy it, nor credit to borrow it; and because the debtors found it difficult to borrow, the creditors found it difficult to get payment. Gold and silver, however, were generally to be had for their value, by those who had that value to give for them.
The enormous expense of the late war, therefore, must have been chiefly defrayed, not by the exportation of gold and silver, but by that of British commodities of some kind or other. When the government, or those who acted under them, contracted with a merchant for a remittance to some foreign country, he would naturally endeavour to pay his foreign correspondent, upon whom he granted a bill, by sending abroad rather commodities than gold and silver. If the commodities of Great Britain were not in demand in that country, he would endeavour to send them to some other country in which he could purchase a bill upon that country. The transportation of commodities, when properly suited to the market, is always attended with a considerable profit; whereas that of gold and silver is scarce ever attended with any. When those metals are sent abroad in order to purchase foreign commodities, the merchant’s profit arises, not from the purchase, but from the sale of the returns. But when they are sent abroad merely to pay a debt, he gets no returns, and consequently no profit. He naturally, therefore, exerts his invention to find out a way of paying his foreign debts, rather by the exportation of commodities, than by that of gold and silver. The great quantity of British goods, exported during the course of the late war, without bringing back any returns, is accordingly remarked by the author of the Present State of the Nation.
Besides the three sorts of gold and silver above mentioned, there is in all great commercial countries a good deal of bullion alternately imported and exported, for the purposes of foreign trade. This bullion, as it circulates among different commercial countries, in the same manner as the national coin circulates in every country, may be considered as the money of the great mercantile republic. The national coin receives its movement and direction from the commodities circulated within the precincts of each particular country; the money in the mercantile republic, from those circulated between different countries. Both are employed in facilitating exchanges, the one between different individuals of the same, the other between those of different nations. Part of this money of the great mercantile republic may have been, and probably was, employed in carrying on the late war. In time of a general war, it is natural to suppose that a movement and direction should be impressed upon it, different from what it usually follows in profound peace, that it should circulate more about the seat of the war, and be more employed in purchasing there, and in the neighbouring countries, the pay and provisions of the different armies. But whatever part of this money of the mercantile republic Great Britain may have annually employed in this manner, it must have been annually purchased, either with British commodities, or with something else that had been purchased with them; which still brings us back to commodities, to the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, as the ultimate resources which enabled us to carry on the war. It is natural, indeed, to suppose, that so great an annual expense must have been defrayed from a great annual produce. The expense of 1761, for example, amounted to more than £19,000,000. No accumulation could have supported so great an annual profusion. There is no annual produce, even of gold and silver, which could have supported it. The whole gold and silver annually imported into both Spain and Portugal, according to the best accounts, does not commonly much exceed £6,000,000 sterling, which, in some years, would scarce have paid four months expense of the late war.
The commodities most proper for being transported to distant countries, in order to purchase there either the pay and provisions of an army, or some part of the money of the mercantile republic to be employed in purchasing them, seem to be the finer and more improved manufactures; such as contain a great value in a small bulk, and can therefore be exported to a great distance at little expense. A country whose industry produces a great annual surplus of such manufactures, which are usually exported to foreign countries, may carry on for many years a very expensive foreign war, without either exporting any considerable quantity of gold and silver, or even having any such quantity to export. A considerable part of the annual surplus of its manufactures must, indeed, in this case, be exported without bringing back any returns to the country, though it does to the merchant; the government purchasing of the merchant his bills upon foreign countries, in order to purchase there the pay and provisions of an army. Some part of this surplus, however, may still continue to bring back a return. The manufacturers during; the war will have a double demand upon them, and be called upon first to work up goods to be sent abroad, for paying the bills drawn upon foreign countries for the pay and provisions of the army: and, secondly, to work up such as are necessary for purchasing the common returns that had usually been consumed in the country. In the midst of the most destructive foreign war, therefore, the greater part of manufactures may frequently flourish greatly; and, on the contrary, they may decline on the return of peace. They may flourish amidst the ruin of their country, and begin to decay upon the return of its prosperity. The different state of many different branches of the British manufactures during the late war, and for some time after the peace, may serve as an illustration of what has been just now said.
No foreign war, of great expense or duration, could conveniently be carried on by the exportation of the rude produce of the soil. The expense of sending such a quantity of it into a foreign country as might purchase the pay and provisions of an army would be too great. Few countries, too, produce much more rude produce than what is sufficient for the subsistence of their own inhabitants. To send abroad any great quantity of it, therefore, would be to send abroad a part of the necessary subsistence of the people. It is otherwise with the exportation of manufactures. The maintenance of the people employed in them is kept at home, and only the surplus part of their work is exported. Mr Hume frequently takes notice of the inability of the ancient kings of England to carry on, without interruption, any foreign war of long duration. The English in those days had nothing wherewithal to purchase the pay and provisions of their armies in foreign countries, but either the rude produce of the soil, of which no considerable part could be spared from the home consumption, or a few manufactures of the coarsest kind, of which, as well as of the rude produce, the transportation was too expensive. This inability did not arise from the want of money, but of the finer and more improved manufactures. Buying and selling was transacted by means of money in England then as well as now. The quantity of circulating money must have borne the same proportion, to the number and value of purchases and sales usually transacted at that time, which it does to those transacted at present; or, rather, it must have borne a greater proportion, because there was then no paper, which now occupies a great part of the employment of gold and silver. Among nations to whom commerce and manufactures are little known, the sovereign, upon extraordinary occasions, can seldom draw any considerable aid from his subjects, for reasons which shall be explained hereafter. It is in such countries, therefore, that he generally endeavours to accumulate a treasure, as the only resource against such emergencies. Independent of this necessity, he is, in such a situation, naturally disposed to the parsimony requisite for accumulation. In that simple state, the expense even of a sovereign is not directed by the vanity which delights in the gaudy finery of a court, but is employed in bounty to his tenants, and hospitality to his retainers. But bounty and hospitality very seldom lead to extravagance; though vanity almost always does. Every Tartar chief, accordingly, has a treasure. The treasures of Mazepa, chief of the Cossacks in the Ukraine, the famous ally of Charles XII., are said to have been very great. The French kings of the Merovingian race had all treasures. When they divided their kingdom among their different children, they divided their treasures too. The Saxon princes, and the first kings after the Conquest, seem likewise to have accumulated treasures. The first exploit of every new reign was commonly to seize the treasure of the preceding king, as the most essential measure for securing the succession. The sovereigns of improved and commercial countries are not under the same necessity of accumulating treasures, because they can generally draw from their subjects extraordinary aids upon extraordinary occasions. They are likewise less disposed to do so. They naturally, perhaps necessarily, follow the mode of the times; and their expense comes to be regulated by the same extravagant vanity which directs that of all the other great proprietors in their dominions. The insignificant pageantry of their court becomes every day more brilliant; and the expense of it not only prevents accumulation, but frequently encroaches upon the funds destined for more necessary expenses. What Dercyllidas said of the court of Persia, may be applied to that of several European princes, that he saw there much splendour, but little strength, and many servants, but few soldiers.
English
A country need not always accumulate gold and silver to wage wars abroad and maintain fleets and armies in distant lands. Fleets and armies are sustained not by gold and silver but by consumable goods. A nation whose annual domestic production—the annual revenue from its land, labor, and consumable stock—gives it the means to buy those goods in distant countries can sustain wars there.
A nation can buy the pay and provisions of an army in a distant country in three ways: by sending abroad, first, some of its accumulated gold and silver; second, some of the annual output of its manufactures; or, finally, some of the year's raw produce.
The gold and silver properly regarded as accumulated or stored in a country fall into three categories: first, its circulating money; second, the plate owned by private families; and, finally, the money gathered through years of thrift and stored in the sovereign's treasury.
Seldom can much be spared from the country's circulating money, for it seldom contains much excess. The value of the goods bought and sold there each year requires a certain quantity of money to carry them through circulation to their consumers, and has no use for more. The channel of circulation necessarily draws in enough to fill it and admits no more. In a foreign war, however, some money is generally withdrawn from this channel. With large numbers maintained abroad, fewer are maintained at home; fewer goods circulate there, and less money is needed to circulate them. On such occasions, too, an unusual quantity of paper money—exchequer notes, navy bills, and bank bills, for instance, in England—is generally issued. By taking the place of circulating gold and silver, it allows more of those metals to be sent abroad. Yet all this would offer only a meager resource for sustaining a costly foreign war lasting several years.
Melting down the plate of private households has always proved an even less significant resource. At the beginning of the last war, the French gained less by this expedient than the value of the plate's workmanship they destroyed.
In earlier times, the sovereign's accumulated treasure furnished a much larger and more lasting resource. Today, except for the king of Prussia, European princes do not seem to regard the accumulation of treasure as part of their policy.
The funds that sustained the foreign wars of this century—perhaps the costliest recorded in history—appear to have depended little on exporting circulating money, private plate, or a sovereign's treasure. The last French war cost Great Britain upwards of £90,000,000: not just the £75,000,000 of new debt contracted, but the additional 2s. in the pound land-tax and the sums borrowed annually from the sinking fund. More than two-thirds of this expense was incurred abroad: in Germany, Portugal, America, the Mediterranean ports, and the East and West Indies. The kings of England had no accumulated treasure. We heard of no extraordinary amount of plate being melted down. The country's circulating gold and silver had been estimated at no more than £18,000,000, though since the recent recoinage of gold that estimate is thought to have been considerably too low. Let us therefore adopt the most inflated estimate I recall seeing or hearing: £30,000,000 in gold and silver together. If our money had financed the war, all of it, even on this estimate, would have had to leave and return at least twice over a period of between six and seven years. Such a supposition would provide the most conclusive proof that government need not watch over the preservation of money: the country's entire supply would have left and returned twice in so short a time without anyone noticing. Yet at no point in this period did the channel of circulation seem emptier than usual. Few who could pay for money lacked it. The profits of foreign trade were indeed higher than usual throughout the war, particularly toward its end. That produced the general overtrading it always produces in all the ports of Great Britain; and overtrading brought its customary complaint, a scarcity of money. Many needed money without either the means to buy it or the credit to borrow it. Because debtors struggled to borrow, creditors struggled to collect. Gold and silver, however, were generally available to those who could give their value in exchange.
The enormous cost of the recent war must therefore have been met chiefly by exports of British goods of one kind or another, not by exports of gold and silver. When the government or its agents contracted with a merchant to remit funds to a foreign country, he would naturally try to pay the foreign correspondent on whom he drew a bill by exporting goods rather than gold and silver. If British goods were not wanted in that country, he would send them somewhere else where he could purchase a bill payable there. Shipping goods suited to a market generally yields a substantial profit; shipping gold and silver scarcely ever does. When those metals go abroad to buy foreign goods, the merchant profits not on the purchase but on selling what comes back. When they go abroad solely to settle a debt, nothing comes back and he makes no profit. He therefore naturally uses his ingenuity to settle foreign debts by exporting goods instead of gold and silver. Accordingly, the author of the Present State of the Nation remarks upon the great quantity of British goods exported during the recent war without bringing any returns home.
Besides the three kinds of gold and silver mentioned above, all great trading countries have considerable quantities of bullion alternately imported and exported for foreign trade. Because this bullion circulates among trading countries much as national coin circulates within each country, it may be considered the money of the great mercantile republic. National coin takes its movement and direction from goods circulating within a particular country; the republic's money takes its movement and direction from goods passing between countries. Both facilitate exchange, one between people of the same nation, the other between people of different nations. Some of the money of the great mercantile republic may have been—and probably was—used to carry on the recent war. In a general war it is natural to suppose that its movement and direction differ from those of deep peace: it circulates more around the theater of war and is used more extensively to buy the pay and provisions of the various armies there and in neighboring countries. But whatever portion of this money Great Britain employed each year in this way had to be bought each year with British goods, or with something itself bought with those goods. We return, then, to goods—to the annual produce of the country's land and labor—as the ultimate resources that enabled us to wage the war. Indeed, it is only natural that so great an annual expense should have been met from a great annual output. The expense in 1761, for example, exceeded £19,000,000. No accumulated store could have supported such annual extravagance. Not even an annual output of gold and silver could have supported it. By the best accounts, all the gold and silver imported annually into Spain and Portugal together does not ordinarily much exceed £6,000,000 sterling—scarcely enough, in some years, to pay four months' expenses of the recent war.
The goods best suited for transport to distant countries to buy an army's pay and provisions there—or to buy some of the money of the mercantile republic for that purpose—appear to be the finer, more advanced manufactures. They contain great value in little bulk and can therefore be shipped far at low cost. A country whose industry produces a large annual surplus of such manufactures, normally exported abroad, can fight a very expensive foreign war for many years without exporting any considerable quantity of gold and silver, or even possessing such a quantity to export. In this case, a substantial part of its annual manufacturing surplus must indeed go abroad without any goods returning to the country, though the merchant does receive a return: the government buys his bills payable abroad to purchase the army's pay and provisions there. Yet some of the surplus may still bring goods back. During the war manufacturers will face a double demand. They will be called on, first, to make goods for export to settle bills drawn abroad for the army's pay and provisions; and second, to make goods with which to purchase the usual imports consumed at home. Thus, amid the most destructive foreign war, most branches of manufacture may flourish greatly, only to decline when peace returns. They may thrive as their country falls into ruin and begin to decay when its prosperity returns. The condition of many branches of British manufacture during the recent war and for some time after the peace illustrates the point.
No costly or prolonged foreign war could conveniently be financed by exporting the raw produce of the soil. Shipping enough of it abroad to buy an army's pay and provisions would cost too much. Few countries, moreover, grow much more raw produce than their own people need to live on. To export much of it would therefore be to export some of the people's necessary subsistence. Manufactured goods are different: the means of supporting the people who make them remain at home, while only the surplus of their work is exported. Mr Hume often notes that the ancient kings of England could not sustain a long foreign war without interruption. The English of that time had nothing with which to buy their armies' pay and provisions abroad except the raw produce of the soil, little of which could be spared from domestic consumption, or a few coarse manufactures whose transport, like that of the raw produce, was too costly. Their incapacity arose not from a shortage of money but from a shortage of finer, more advanced manufactures. Money was used to buy and sell in England then, as it is now. Circulating money must have borne at least the same proportion to the number and value of purchases and sales then as it does now—indeed, a greater proportion, since paper money had not yet taken over much of the work now performed by gold and silver. Among peoples with little commerce or manufacturing, a sovereign can rarely obtain substantial help from his subjects in an emergency, for reasons to be explained later. In such countries, therefore, he commonly tries to accumulate a treasure as his only resource against emergencies. Apart from this necessity, his circumstances naturally dispose him to the thrift needed to build a reserve. In that simple condition, even a sovereign spends not on the vanity of a gaudily adorned court, but on generosity to tenants and hospitality to retainers. Generosity and hospitality seldom lead to extravagance; vanity almost always does. Accordingly, every Tartar chief has a treasure. The treasures of Mazepa, chief of the Cossacks in the Ukraine and famous ally of Charles XII., are said to have been very great. The French kings of the Merovingian dynasty all had treasures; when they divided their kingdom among their children, they divided the treasures too. The Saxon princes, and the first kings after the Conquest, likewise seem to have stored up treasures. The first act of every new reign was commonly to seize the previous king's treasure, as the measure most essential to securing the succession. Sovereigns of developed trading countries have no comparable need to accumulate treasure, since they can generally call on their subjects for extraordinary assistance in extraordinary circumstances. Nor are they as inclined to do so. Naturally, perhaps inevitably, they follow the fashion of their age, and their spending comes to be governed by the same extravagant vanity that governs the spending of every other great landowner in their dominions. The empty pageantry of their courts grows more brilliant by the day; its cost not only prevents accumulation but often consumes funds set aside for more necessary purposes. What Dercyllidas said of the Persian court could be said of several European princes: he saw there much splendor but little strength, and many servants but few soldiers.
Book IV, Chapter I, 4
18th-century English
The importation of gold and silver is not the principal, much less the sole benefit, which a nation derives from its foreign trade. Between whatever places foreign trade is carried on, they all of them derive two distinct benefits from it. It carries out that surplus part of the produce of their land and labour for which there is no demand among them, and brings back in return for it something else for which there is a demand. It gives a value to their superfluities, by exchanging them for something else, which may satisfy a part of their wants and increase their enjoyments. By means of it, the narrowness of the home market does not hinder the division of labour in any particular branch of art or manufacture from being carried to the highest perfection. By opening a more extensive market for whatever part of the produce of their labour may exceed the home consumption, it encourages them to improve its productive power, and to augment its annual produce to the utmost, and thereby to increase the real revenue and wealth of the society. These great and important services foreign trade is continually occupied in performing to all the different countries between which it is carried on. They all derive great benefit from it, though that in which the merchant resides generally derives the greatest, as he is generally more employed in supplying the wants, and carrying out the superfluities of his own, than of any other particular country. To import the gold and silver which may be wanted into the countries which have no mines, is, no doubt a part of the business of foreign commerce. It is, however, a most insignificant part of it. A country which carried on foreign trade merely upon this account, could scarce have occasion to freight a ship in a century.
It is not by the importation of gold and silver that the discovery of America has enriched Europe. By the abundance of the American mines, those metals have become cheaper. A service of plate can now be purchased for about a third part of the corn, or a third part of the labour, which it would have cost in the fifteenth century. With the same annual expense of labour and commodities, Europe can annually purchase about three times the quantity of plate which it could have purchased at that time. But when a commodity comes to be sold for a third part of what bad been its usual price, not only those who purchased it before can purchase three times their former quantity, but it is brought down to the level of a much greater number of purchasers, perhaps to more than ten, perhaps to more than twenty times the former number. So that there may be in Europe at present, not only more than three times, but more than twenty or thirty times the quantity of plate which would have been in it, even in its present state of improvement, had the discovery of the American mines never been made. So far Europe has, no doubt, gained a real conveniency, though surely a very trifling one. The cheapness of gold and silver renders those metals rather less fit for the purposes of money than they were before. In order to make the same purchases, we must load ourselves with a greater quantity of them, and carry about a shilling in our pocket, where a groat would have done before. It is difficult to say which is most trifling, this inconveniency, or the opposite conveniency. Neither the one nor the other could have made any very essential change in the state of Europe. The discovery of America, however, certainly made a most essential one. By opening a new and inexhaustible market to all the commodities of Europe, it gave occasion to new divisions of labour and improvements of art, which in the narrow circle of the ancient commerce could never have taken place, for want of a market to take off the greater part of their produce. The productive powers of labour were improved, and its produce increased in all the different countries of Europe, and together with it the real revenue and wealth of the inhabitants. The commodities of Europe were almost all new to America, and many of those of America were new to Europe. A new set of exchanges, therefore, began to take place, which had never been thought of before, and which should naturally have proved as advantageous to the new, as it certainly did to the old continent. The savage injustice of the Europeans rendered an event, which ought to have been beneficial to all, ruinous and destructive to several of those unfortunate countries.
The discovery of a passage to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope, which happened much about the same time, opened perhaps a still more extensive range to foreign commerce, than even that of America, notwithstanding the greater distance. There were but two nations in America, in any respect, superior to the savages, and these were destroyed almost as soon as discovered. The rest were mere savages. But the empires of China, Indostan, Japan, as well as several others in the East Indies, without having richer mines of gold or silver, were, in every other respect, much richer, better cultivated, and more advanced in all arts and manufactures, than either Mexico or Peru, even though we should credit, what plainly deserves no credit, the exaggerated accounts of the Spanish writers concerning the ancient state of those empires. But rich and civilized nations can always exchange to a much greater value with one another, than with savages and barbarians. Europe, however, has hitherto derived much less advantage from its commerce with the East Indies, than from that with America. The Portuguese monopolised the East India trade to themselves for about a century; and it was only indirectly, and through them, that the other nations of Europe could either send out or receive any goods from that country. When the Dutch, in the beginning of the last century, began to encroach upon them, they vested their whole East India commerce in an exclusive company. The English, French, Swedes, and Danes, have all followed their example; so that no great nation of Europe has ever yet had the benefit of a free commerce to the East Indies. No other reason need be assigned why it has never been so advantageous as the trade to America, which, between almost every nation of Europe and its own colonies, is free to all its subjects. The exclusive privileges of those East India companies, their great riches, the great favour and protection which these have procured them from their respective governments, have excited much envy against them. This envy has frequently represented their trade as altogether pernicious, on account of the great quantities of silver which it every year exports from the countries from which it is carried on. The parties concerned have replied, that their trade by this continual exportation of silver, might indeed tend to impoverish Europe in general, but not the particular country from which it was carried on; because, by the exportation of a part of the returns to other European countries, it annually brought home a much greater quantity of that metal than it carried out. Both the objection and the reply are founded in the popular notion which I have been just now examining. It is therefore unnecessary to say any thing further about either. By the annual exportation of silver to the East Indies, plate is probably somewhat dearer in Europe than it otherwise might have been; and coined silver probably purchases a larger quantity both of labour and commodities. The former of these two effects is a very small loss, the latter a very small advantage; both too insignificant to deserve any part of the public attention. The trade to the East Indies, by opening a market to the commodities of Europe, or, what comes nearly to the same thing, to the gold and silver which is purchased with those commodities, must necessarily tend to increase the annual production of European commodities, and consequently the real wealth and revenue of Europe. That it has hitherto increased them so little, is probably owing to the restraints which it everywhere labours under.
I thought it necessary, though at the hazard of being tedious, to examine at full length this popular notion, that wealth consists in money or in gold and silver. Money, in common language, as I have already observed, frequently signifies wealth; and this ambiguity of expression has rendered this popular notion so familiar to us, that even they who are convinced of its absurdity, are very apt to forget their own principles, and, in the course of their reasonings, to take it for granted as a certain and undeniable truth. Some of the best English writers upon commerce set out with observing, that the wealth of a country consists, not in its gold and silver only, but in its lands, houses, and consumable goods of all different kinds. In the course of their reasonings, however, the lands, houses, and consumable goods, seem to slip out of their memory; and the strain of their argument frequently supposes that all wealth consists in gold and silver, and that to multiply those metals is the great object of national industry and commerce.
The two principles being established, however, that wealth consisted in gold and silver, and that those metals could be brought into a country which had no mines, only by the balance of trade, or by exporting to a greater value than it imported; it necessarily became the great object of political economy to diminish as much as possible the importation of foreign goods for home consumption, and to increase as much as possible the exportation of the produce of domestic industry. Its two great engines for enriching the country, therefore, were restraints upon importation, and encouragement to exportation.
The restraints upon importation were of two kinds.
First, restraints upon the importation of such foreign goods for home consumption as could be produced at home, from whatever country they were imported.
Secondly, restraints upon the importation of goods of almost all kinds, from those particular countries with which the balance of trade was supposed to be disadvantageous.
Those different restraints consisted sometimes in high duties, and sometimes in absolute prohibitions.
Exportation was encouraged sometimes by drawbacks, sometimes by bounties, sometimes by advantageous treaties of commerce with foreign states, and sometimes by the establishment of colonies in distant countries.
Drawbacks were given upon two different occasions. When the home manufactures were subject to any duty or excise, either the whole or a part of it was frequently drawn back upon their exportation; and when foreign goods liable to a duty were imported, in order to be exported again, either the whole or a part of this duty was sometimes given back upon such exportation.
Bounties were given for the encouragement, either of some beginning manufactures, or of such sorts of industry of other kinds as were supposed to deserve particular favour.
By advantageous treaties of commerce, particular privileges were procured in some foreign state for the goods and merchants of the country, beyond what were granted to those of other countries.
By the establishment of colonies in distant countries, not only particular privileges, but a monopoly was frequently procured for the goods and merchants of the country which established them.
The two sorts of restraints upon importation above mentioned, together with these four encouragements to exportation, constitute the six principal means by which the commercial system proposes to increase the quantity of gold and silver in any country, by turning the balance of trade in its favour. I shall consider each of them in a particular chapter, and, without taking much farther notice of their supposed tendency to bring money into the country, I shall examine chiefly what are likely to be the effects of each of them upon the annual produce of its industry. According as they tend either to increase or diminish the value of this annual produce, they must evidently tend either to increase or diminish the real wealth and revenue of the country.
English
The importation of gold and silver is not the principal benefit a nation gains from foreign trade, still less its only benefit. Wherever such trade is conducted, all the places involved gain two distinct advantages. It carries away the surplus produce of their land and labor for which they have no demand and brings back something they do want. By exchanging their surplus for goods that meet some of their needs and increase their pleasures, it gives that surplus value. Foreign trade also prevents the limits of a domestic market from obstructing the division of labor in any art or manufacture from reaching its highest refinement. By opening a wider market for the part of their output that exceeds domestic consumption, it encourages people to improve their labor's productive power and raise its annual output as far as possible, thereby increasing society's real revenue and wealth. Foreign trade continually performs these great and important services for every country engaged in it. All benefit greatly, though the country where the merchant lives generally benefits most: he is usually more engaged in meeting its needs and exporting its surplus than in doing the same for any other one country. Supplying such gold and silver as countries without mines may need is, no doubt, one function of foreign commerce. But it is a most insignificant one. A country trading abroad solely for this reason would scarcely need to load a ship in a century.
It was not through imports of gold and silver that the discovery of America enriched Europe. The abundance of the American mines made those metals cheaper. A set of plate can now be bought for about a third of the corn or labor it would have cost in the fifteenth century. With the same annual expenditure of labor and goods, Europe can buy about three times as much plate each year as it could then. But when a good sells for a third of its former price, former buyers can not only buy three times as much; it also becomes affordable to many more buyers—perhaps more than ten, perhaps more than twenty times as many. Thus Europe today may have not merely more than three times but more than twenty or thirty times as much plate as it would have had, even at its present level of development, if the American mines had never been found. To this extent Europe has undoubtedly gained a real convenience, though certainly a very slight one. Cheaper gold and silver are rather less suitable as money than before. To make the same purchases, we must carry more of them: a shilling in our pocket where a groat once sufficed. It is hard to say which is more trivial, this inconvenience or its opposite convenience. Neither could have made any fundamental difference to Europe's condition. Yet the discovery of America certainly did make a fundamental difference. By opening a vast new market for all European goods, it made possible new divisions of labor and advances in the arts that could never have arisen within the narrow bounds of the old trade: there had been no market for most of their output. Labor's productive power improved, its output grew throughout the different countries of Europe, and the inhabitants' real revenue and wealth grew with it. Nearly all European goods were new to America, while many American goods were new to Europe. Exchanges never before imagined thus arose. They should naturally have proved as beneficial to the new continent as they certainly were to the old. The savage injustice of Europeans made an event that should have benefited everyone ruinous and destructive to several of those unfortunate countries.
The discovery, at about the same time, of a route to the East Indies around the Cape of Good Hope opened perhaps an even wider field for foreign commerce than the discovery of America, despite the greater distance. Only two nations in America were in any respect more advanced than those described as savages, and they were destroyed almost as soon as they were discovered. The others were deemed savages. But the empires of China, Indostan, and Japan, along with several others in the East Indies, though not possessed of richer gold or silver mines, were in every other respect far richer, better cultivated, and more advanced in all the arts and manufactures than Mexico or Peru. This remains true even if we credit the exaggerated Spanish accounts of those empires' former condition—accounts that plainly deserve no credit. Rich, developed nations, however, can always exchange goods of far greater value with one another than with peoples they call savages and barbarians. Yet Europe has so far gained much less from its commerce with the East Indies than from commerce with America. The Portuguese monopolized East Indian trade for about a century; the other European nations could send or receive goods from that region only indirectly through them. When the Dutch began to challenge them at the beginning of the last century, they placed all their East Indian commerce in the hands of an exclusive company. The English, French, Swedes, and Danes have all followed their example. Thus no great European nation has yet enjoyed free commerce with the East Indies. No other reason is needed for its having been less advantageous than the American trade, which is open to all the subjects of nearly every European nation trading with its own colonies. The exclusive privileges of the East India companies, their great wealth, and the considerable favor and protection it has won them from their governments have aroused much envy. This envy has often portrayed their trade as wholly harmful because it exports large quantities of silver every year from the countries conducting it. Those concerned in the trade have replied that the continual export of silver might indeed impoverish Europe as a whole but not the particular country engaged in it: by exporting some of the goods received to other European countries, that country brings home far more silver each year than it sends away. Both the objection and the reply rest on the popular notion I have just examined; nothing more need be said about either. The annual export of silver to the East Indies probably makes plate somewhat more expensive in Europe than it would otherwise be; coined silver probably buys more labor and goods. The first effect is a very small loss and the second a very small gain; neither warrants public attention. By opening a market for European goods—or, much the same thing, for gold and silver bought with European goods—trade with the East Indies must tend to increase Europe's annual output of goods and therefore its real wealth and revenue. If it has so far increased them only slightly, the restraints imposed on it everywhere are probably the reason.
I have thought it necessary, even at the risk of tediousness, to examine fully the popular notion that wealth consists of money, or gold and silver. As I have already observed, everyday speech often uses money to mean wealth. This ambiguity has made the popular notion so familiar that even those persuaded of its absurdity are apt to forget their own principles and take it as an unquestionable truth in the course of their arguments. Some of the best English writers on commerce begin by observing that a country's wealth consists not only of gold and silver but also of land, houses, and consumable goods of every kind. Yet as their arguments proceed, land, houses, and consumable goods seem to disappear from memory. They frequently reason as if all wealth were gold and silver and multiplying those metals were the great purpose of national industry and commerce.
Once two principles were accepted—that wealth consisted of gold and silver, and that a country without mines could obtain them only through a favorable balance of trade, by exporting more value than it imported—the principal aim of political economy necessarily became to reduce imports of foreign goods for domestic consumption as far as possible and to increase exports of domestic production as far as possible. Its two great instruments for enriching a country were therefore restrictions on imports and encouragements to exports.
Restrictions on imports took two forms.
First, restrictions on imports of goods for domestic consumption that could be made at home, whatever country supplied them.
Second, restrictions on imports of almost all kinds of goods from particular countries with which the balance of trade was believed unfavorable.
These various restrictions sometimes took the form of high duties and sometimes outright prohibitions.
Exports were encouraged by drawbacks, bounties, favorable commercial treaties with foreign states, and the establishment of colonies in distant lands.
Drawbacks were granted in two circumstances. When domestic manufactures were subject to a duty or excise, all or part of it was often refunded on export. When dutiable foreign goods were imported for reexport, all or part of the duty was sometimes refunded when they were exported.
Bounties were granted to encourage either new manufactures or other kinds of industry thought to merit particular favor.
Favorable commercial treaties secured privileges in foreign states for a country's goods and merchants beyond those granted to other countries.
Establishing colonies in distant lands often secured not only special privileges but a monopoly for the goods and merchants of the country that founded them.
These two kinds of import restriction, together with the four forms of export encouragement, are the six principal means by which the commercial system proposes to increase a country's gold and silver through a favorable balance of trade. I shall examine each in its own chapter. Rather than dwell further on their supposed tendency to bring money into the country, I shall focus chiefly on how each is likely to affect the annual output of its industry. Insofar as they increase or diminish the value of that annual output, they must plainly increase or diminish the country's real wealth and revenue.
Book IV, Chapter II, 1
18th-century English
OF RESTRAINTS UPON IMPORTATION FROM FOREIGN COUNTRIES OF SUCH GOODS AS CAN BE PRODUCED AT HOME.
By restraining, either by high duties, or by absolute prohibitions, the importation of such goods from foreign countries as can be produced at home, the monopoly of the home market is more or less secured to the domestic industry employed in producing them. Thus the prohibition of importing either live cattle or salt provisions from foreign countries, secures to the graziers of Great Britain the monopoly of the home market for butcher’s meat. The high duties upon the importation of corn, which, in times of moderate plenty, amount to a prohibition, give a like advantage to the growers of that commodity. The prohibition of the importation of foreign woollen is equally favourable to the woollen manufacturers. The silk manufacture, though altogether employed upon foreign materials, has lately obtained the same advantage. The linen manufacture has not yet obtained it, but is making great strides towards it. Many other sorts of manufactures have, in the same manner obtained in Great Britain, either altogether, or very nearly, a monopoly against their countrymen. The variety of goods, of which the importation into Great Britain is prohibited, either absolutely, or under certain circumstances, greatly exceeds what can easily be suspected by those who are not well acquainted with the laws of the customs.
That this monopoly of the home market frequently gives great encouragement to that particular species of industry which enjoys it, and frequently turns towards that employment a greater share of both the labour and stock of the society than would otherwise have gone to it, cannot be doubted. But whether it tends either to increase the general industry of the society, or to give it the most advantageous direction, is not, perhaps, altogether so evident.
The general industry of the society can never exceed what the capital of the society can employ. As the number of workmen that can be kept in employment by any particular person must bear a certain proportion to his capital, so the number of those that can be continually employed by all the members of a great society must bear a certain proportion to the whole capital of the society, and never can exceed that proportion. No regulation of commerce can increase the quantity of industry in any society beyond what its capital can maintain. It can only divert a part of it into a direction into which it might not otherwise have gone; and it is by no means certain that this artificial direction is likely to be more advantageous to the society, than that into which it would have gone of its own accord.
Every individual is continually exerting himself to find out the most advantageous employment for whatever capital he can command. It is his own advantage, indeed, and not that of the society, which he has in view. But the study of his own advantage naturally, or rather necessarily, leads him to prefer that employment which is most advantageous to the society.
First, every individual endeavours to employ his capital as near home as he can, and consequently as much as he can in the support of domestic industry, provided always that he can thereby obtain the ordinary, or not a great deal less than the ordinary profits of stock.
Thus, upon equal, or nearly equal profits, every wholesale merchant naturally prefers the home trade to the foreign trade of consumption, and the foreign trade of consumption to the carrying trade. In the home trade, his capital is never so long out of his sight as it frequently is in the foreign trade of consumption. He can know better the character and situation of the persons whom he trusts; and if he should happen to be deceived, he knows better the laws of the country from which he must seek redress. In the carrying trade, the capital of the merchant is, as it were, divided between two foreign countries, and no part of it is ever necessarily brought home, or placed under his own immediate view and command. The capital which an Amsterdam merchant employs in carrying corn from Koningsberg to Lisbon, and fruit and wine from Lisbon to Koningsberg, must generally be the one half of it at Koningsberg, and the other half at Lisbon. No part of it need ever come to Amsterdam. The natural residence of such a merchant should either be at Koningsberg or Lisbon; and it can only be some very particular circumstances which can make him prefer the residence of Amsterdam. The uneasiness, however, which he feels at being separated so far from his capital, generally determines him to bring part both of the Koningsberg goods which he destines for the market of Lisbon, and of the Lisbon goods which he destines for that of Koningsberg, to Amsterdam; and though this necessarily subjects him to a double charge of loading and unloading as well as to the payment of some duties and customs, yet, for the sake of having some part of his capital always under his own view and command, he willingly submits to this extraordinary charge; and it is in this manner that every country which has any considerable share of the carrying trade, becomes always the emporium, or general market, for the goods of all the different countries whose trade it carries on. The merchant, in order to save a second loading and unloading, endeavours always to sell in the home market, as much of the goods of all those different countries as he can; and thus, so far as he can, to convert his carrying trade into a foreign trade of consumption. A merchant, in the same manner, who is engaged in the foreign trade of consumption, when he collects goods for foreign markets, will always be glad, upon equal or nearly equal profits, to sell as great a part of them at home as he can. He saves himself the risk and trouble of exportation, when, so far as he can, he thus converts his foreign trade of consumption into a home trade. Home is in this manner the centre, if I may say so, round which the capitals of the inhabitants of every country are continually circulating, and towards which they are always tending, though, by particular causes, they may sometimes be driven off and repelled from it towards more distant employments. But a capital employed in the home trade, it has already been shown, necessarily puts into motion a greater quantity of domestic industry, and gives revenue and employment to a greater number of the inhabitants of the country, than an equal capital employed in the foreign trade of consumption; and one employed in the foreign trade of consumption has the same advantage over an equal capital employed in the carrying trade. Upon equal, or only nearly equal profits, therefore, every individual naturally inclines to employ his capital in the manner in which it is likely to afford the greatest support to domestic industry, and to give revenue and employment to the greatest number of people of his own country.
Secondly, every individual who employs his capital in the support of domestic industry, necessarily endeavours so to direct that industry, that its produce may be of the greatest possible value.
The produce of industry is what it adds to the subject or materials upon which it is employed. In proportion as the value of this produce is great or small, so will likewise be the profits of the employer. But it is only for the sake of profit that any man employs a capital in the support of industry; and he will always, therefore, endeavour to employ it in the support of that industry of which the produce is likely to be of the greatest value, or to exchange for the greatest quantity either of money or of other goods.
But the annual revenue of every society is always precisely equal to the exchangeable value of the whole annual produce of its industry, or rather is precisely the same thing with that exchangeable value. As every individual, therefore, endeavours as much as he can, both to employ his capital in the support of domestic industry, and so to direct that industry that its produce maybe of the greatest value; every individual necessarily labours to render the annual revenue of the society as great as he can. He generally, indeed, neither intends to promote the public interest, nor knows how much he is promoting it. By preferring the support of domestic to that of foreign industry, he intends only his own security; and by directing that industry in such a manner as its produce may be of the greatest value, he intends only his own gain; and he is in this, as in many other cases, led by an invisible hand to promote an end which was no part of his intention. Nor is it always the worse for the society that it was no part of it. By pursuing his own interest, he frequently promotes that of the society more effectually than when he really intends to promote it. I have never known much good done by those who affected to trade for the public good. It is an affectation, indeed, not very common among merchants, and very few words need be employed in dissuading them from it.
What is the species of domestic industry which his capital can employ, and of which the produce is likely to be of the greatest value, every individual, it is evident, can in his local situation judge much better than any statesman or lawgiver can do for him. The statesman, who should attempt to direct private people in what manner they ought to employ their capitals, would not only load himself with a most unnecessary attention, but assume an authority which could safely be trusted, not only to no single person, but to no council or senate whatever, and which would nowhere be so dangerous as in the hands of a man who had folly and presumption enough to fancy himself fit to exercise it.
To give the monopoly of the home market to the produce of domestic industry, in any particular art or manufacture, is in some measure to direct private people in what manner they ought to employ their capitals, and must in almost all cases be either a useless or a hurtful regulation. If the produce of domestic can be brought there as cheap as that of foreign industry, the regulation is evidently useless. If it cannot, it must generally be hurtful. It is the maxim of every prudent master of a family, never to attempt to make at home what it will cost him more to make than to buy. The tailor does not attempt to make his own shoes, but buys them of the shoemaker. The shoemaker does not attempt to make his own clothes, but employs a tailor. The farmer attempts to make neither the one nor the other, but employs those different artificers. All of them find it for their interest to employ their whole industry in a way in which they have some advantage over their neighbours, and to purchase with a part of its produce, or, what is the same thing, with the price of a part of it, whatever else they have occasion for.
What is prudence in the conduct of every private family, can scarce be folly in that of a great kingdom. If a foreign country can supply us with a commodity cheaper than we ourselves can make it, better buy it of them with some part of the produce of our own industry, employed in a way in which we have some advantage. The general industry of the country being always in proportion to the capital which employs it, will not thereby be diminished, no more than that of the abovementioned artificers; but only left to find out the way in which it can be employed with the greatest advantage. It is certainly not employed to the greatest advantage, when it is thus directed towards an object which it can buy cheaper than it can make. The value of its annual produce is certainly more or less diminished, when it is thus turned away from producing commodities evidently of more value than the commodity which it is directed to produce. According to the supposition, that commodity could be purchased from foreign countries cheaper than it can be made at home; it could therefore have been purchased with a part only of the commodities, or, what is the same thing, with a part only of the price of the commodities, which the industry employed by an equal capital would have produced at home, had it been left to follow its natural course. The industry of the country, therefore, is thus turned away from a more to a less advantageous employment; and the exchangeable value of its annual produce, instead of being increased, according to the intention of the lawgiver, must necessarily be diminished by every such regulation.
By means of such regulations, indeed, a particular manufacture may sometimes be acquired sooner than it could have been otherwise, and after a certain time may be made at home as cheap, or cheaper, than in the foreign country. But though the industry of the society may be thus carried with advantage into a particular channel sooner than it could have been otherwise, it will by no means follow that the sum-total, either of its industry, or of its revenue, can ever be augmented by any such regulation. The industry of the society can augment only in proportion as its capital augments, and its capital can augment only in proportion to what can be gradually saved out of its revenue. But the immediate effect of every such regulation is to diminish its revenue; and what diminishes its revenue is certainly not very likely to augment its capital faster than it would have augmented of its own accord, had both capital and industry been left to find out their natural employments.
Though, for want of such regulations, the society should never acquire the proposed manufacture, it would not upon that account necessarily be the poorer in anyone period of its duration. In every period of its duration its whole capital and industry might still have been employed, though upon different objects, in the manner that was most advantageous at the time. In every period its revenue might have been the greatest which its capital could afford, and both capital and revenue might have been augmented with the greatest possible rapidity.
The natural advantages which one country has over another, in producing particular commodities, are sometimes so great, that it is acknowledged by all the world to be in vain to struggle with them. By means of glasses, hot-beds, and hot-walls, very good grapes can be raised in Scotland, and very good wine, too, can be made of them, at about thirty times the expense for which at least equally good can be brought from foreign countries. Would it be a reasonable law to prohibit the importation of all foreign wines, merely to encourage the making of claret and Burgundy in Scotland? But if there would be a manifest absurdity in turning towards any employment thirty times more of the capital and industry of the country than would be necessary to purchase from foreign countries an equal quantity of the commodities wanted, there must be an absurdity, though not altogether so glaring, yet exactly of the same kind, in turning towards any such employment a thirtieth, or even a three hundredth part more of either. Whether the advantages which one country has over another be natural or acquired, is in this respect of no consequence. As long as the one country has those advantages, and the other wants them, it will always be more advantageous for the latter rather to buy of the former than to make. It is an acquired advantage only, which one artificer has over his neighbour, who exercises another trade; and yet they both find it more advantageous to buy of one another, than to make what does not belong to their particular trades.
English
Of Restrictions on Importation from Foreign Countries of Goods That Can Be Produced at Home.
Restricting imports of goods that can be produced at home, whether through high duties or outright prohibitions, secures a greater or lesser monopoly of the domestic market for the industries that produce them. Thus the ban on importing live cattle or salted provisions from abroad secures for Great Britain's graziers a monopoly of the domestic market for meat. High duties on imported corn, amounting to a ban in times of moderate plenty, give growers of corn a similar advantage. The ban on imported woolen goods likewise favors woolen manufacturers. Silk manufacturers, although they use entirely foreign materials, have recently gained the same advantage. Linen manufacturers have not yet gained it but are moving rapidly toward it. Many other branches of manufacture in Great Britain have similarly gained a complete or nearly complete monopoly over their fellow countrymen. The variety of goods whose importation into Great Britain is prohibited, either outright or in certain circumstances, greatly exceeds what anyone unfamiliar with customs laws might imagine.
There can be no doubt that this domestic monopoly often strongly encourages the particular industry that enjoys it and directs more of society's labor and stock into that industry than would otherwise flow there. But whether it increases society's industry as a whole, or directs it to the best advantage, is far less clear.
Society's total industry can never exceed what its capital can employ. The number of workers any one person can keep employed must bear a certain proportion to that person's capital. Likewise, the number that all members of a great society can keep employed must bear a certain proportion to society's total capital, and can never exceed it. No trade regulation can increase the amount of industry in a society beyond what its capital can sustain. It can only divert some of that industry onto a course it might not otherwise have taken; and there is no certainty that this artificial course will serve society better than the one industry would have followed of its own accord.
Each person constantly seeks the most advantageous use for whatever capital he controls. His object is indeed his own advantage, not society's. Yet the pursuit of his advantage naturally—or rather necessarily—leads him to prefer the employment most advantageous to society.
First, each person tries to employ his capital as close to home as he can, and therefore to support domestic industry as far as he can, provided he can obtain the ordinary profits of stock, or profits not much below them.
Thus, when profits are equal or nearly equal, a wholesale merchant naturally prefers domestic trade to foreign trade for consumption, and foreign trade for consumption to the carrying trade. In domestic trade his capital is never so long out of his sight as it often is in foreign trade for consumption. He knows better the character and circumstances of those to whom he extends credit; if deceived, he is better acquainted with the laws under which he must seek redress. In the carrying trade, the merchant's capital is, as it were, divided between two foreign countries. None of it need ever be brought home or placed directly under his eye and control. A merchant in Amsterdam who uses his capital to carry corn from Koningsberg to Lisbon, and fruit and wine from Lisbon to Koningsberg, must generally keep half of it in Koningsberg and the other half in Lisbon. None of it need ever reach Amsterdam. Such a merchant's natural residence would be either Koningsberg or Lisbon; only very particular circumstances could make him prefer Amsterdam. Yet his discomfort at being so far from his capital generally prompts him to bring to Amsterdam some of both the Koningsberg goods bound for Lisbon and the Lisbon goods bound for Koningsberg. This entails loading and unloading twice, as well as paying some duties and customs charges. But to keep at least some of his capital constantly under his own eye and control, he willingly bears the extra expense. In this way, every country with a considerable share of the carrying trade always becomes an emporium, or common market, for the goods of all the countries whose trade it carries. To avoid a second loading and unloading, the merchant tries to sell as much as he can of all these countries' goods in his domestic market, thereby converting as much of his carrying trade as possible into foreign trade for consumption. Likewise, a merchant engaged in foreign trade for consumption who gathers goods for foreign markets is always glad, when profits are equal or nearly equal, to sell as much of them at home as he can. To the extent that he converts foreign trade for consumption into domestic trade, he avoids the risks and trouble of export. Home is thus, if I may put it so, the center around which the capital of every country's inhabitants continually circulates and toward which it always tends, though particular causes may sometimes drive it away toward more distant uses. As already shown, capital employed in domestic trade necessarily sets more domestic industry in motion and provides revenue and employment to more inhabitants than the same amount employed in foreign trade for consumption. Capital employed in foreign trade for consumption has the same advantage over an equal amount employed in the carrying trade. Thus, when profits are equal or nearly equal, each person naturally tends to employ his capital in the way most likely to support domestic industry and provide revenue and employment to the greatest number of his fellow countrymen.
Second, each person who employs his capital to support domestic industry necessarily tries to direct that industry toward producing goods of the greatest possible value.
The output of industry is the value it adds to the materials it works upon. The employer's profits rise or fall with the value of that output. But a person employs capital in industry only for profit. He will therefore always try to support the industry whose output is likely to have the greatest value, or to exchange for the greatest amount of money or other goods.
Yet the annual revenue of every society is exactly equal to the exchange value of its entire annual industrial output—or, more precisely, it is that very value. Each person therefore strives, as far as he can, both to use his capital to support domestic industry and to direct that industry toward the most valuable output. In doing so, each necessarily works to make society's annual revenue as large as he can. He generally neither intends to serve the public interest nor knows how much he serves it. In preferring domestic to foreign industry he seeks only his own security; in directing that industry toward the most valuable output he seeks only his own gain. In this, as in many other cases, he is led by an invisible hand to advance an end that was no part of his intention. Nor is society always worse off because he did not intend it. In pursuing his own interest he often advances society's interest more effectively than when he actually means to advance it. I have never known much good to come from those who professed to trade for the public good. It is an affectation not very common among merchants, and few words are needed to discourage them from it.
A person in his own locality can plainly judge much better than any statesman or lawgiver which domestic industry his capital can support and which is likely to produce the most valuable goods. A statesman who attempted to tell private people how to employ their capital would not only assume a wholly unnecessary burden of attention; he would claim an authority that could safely be entrusted to no single person, nor to any council or senate whatsoever. Nowhere would it be more dangerous than in the hands of a man foolish and presumptuous enough to think himself fit to exercise it.
To grant a monopoly of the domestic market to the output of any particular domestic art or manufacture is, to some extent, to tell private people how to employ their capital. Such a regulation must almost always be either useless or harmful. If domestic industry can supply the market as cheaply as foreign industry, the regulation is plainly useless. If it cannot, the regulation must generally do harm. Every prudent head of a household follows the maxim never to make at home what costs more to make than to buy. The tailor does not make his own shoes but buys them from the shoemaker. The shoemaker does not make his own clothes but hires a tailor. The farmer makes neither shoes nor clothes but employs both craftsmen. All find it in their interest to devote their labor to work in which they have an advantage over their neighbors, and to buy everything else they need with part of what they produce—or, equivalently, with the proceeds from selling part of it.
What is prudent in every private household can hardly be foolish in a great kingdom. If another country can supply us with a good more cheaply than we can make it ourselves, we do better to buy it with some of the output of our own industry, employed where we have an advantage. The country's total industry, always proportionate to the capital employing it, will not thereby be reduced, any more than the work of the craftsmen just mentioned is reduced. It will merely be left to discover its most advantageous use. It is certainly not employed to best advantage when directed to produce something that can be bought more cheaply than it can be made. The value of its annual output necessarily falls, to a greater or lesser extent, when it is diverted from making goods plainly more valuable than the goods it is made to produce. By assumption, the latter goods could be bought from other countries for less than they cost to make at home. They could therefore be purchased with only part of the goods—or, equivalently, part of the proceeds of the goods—that an equal amount of domestic capital would have produced if industry had been free to take its natural course. The country's industry is thus diverted from a more advantageous to a less advantageous employment. Instead of increasing the exchange value of its annual output, as the lawgiver intends, every such regulation necessarily diminishes it.
Such regulations may, it is true, sometimes enable a particular manufacture to take root earlier than it otherwise would and, after a time, to produce goods at home as cheaply as, or more cheaply than, a foreign country. But even if society's industry can thus be channeled into a particular use advantageously sooner than it otherwise might, it does not follow that such a regulation can ever increase the sum total of its industry or revenue. Society's industry grows only as its capital grows, and capital grows only through what can gradually be saved from revenue. Yet every such regulation immediately reduces revenue; what reduces revenue is hardly likely to increase capital faster than capital would have grown on its own had both capital and industry been free to find their natural employments.
Even if, without such regulations, society never acquired the proposed manufacture, it would not necessarily be poorer at any point in its history. At every point, its entire capital and industry might still have been employed in different pursuits that were the most advantageous at the time. At every point, its revenue might have been as high as its capital permitted, while both capital and revenue might have grown as rapidly as possible.
The natural advantages one country possesses over another in producing particular goods are sometimes so great that everyone acknowledges the futility of competing with them. Glasshouses, hotbeds, and heated walls can produce very good grapes in Scotland, and very good wine from those grapes, at about thirty times the cost of importing wine at least as good. Would it be reasonable to prohibit all foreign wine simply to encourage the making of claret and Burgundy in Scotland? If it would be plainly absurd to devote thirty times as much national capital and industry to such production as would be needed to buy the same quantity of the desired goods abroad, it must also be absurd—though less obviously so—to devote even a thirtieth or a three hundredth part more. It makes no difference here whether one country's advantages over another are natural or acquired. So long as one has advantages the other lacks, it will always be better for the latter to buy from the former than to make the goods itself. The advantage one craftsman has over a neighbor who follows another trade is only an acquired one; still, both find it better to buy from each other than to make goods outside their respective trades.
Book IV, Chapter II, 2
18th-century English
Merchants and manufacturers are the people who derive the greatest advantage from this monopoly of the home market. The prohibition of the importation of foreign cattle and of salt provisions, together with the high duties upon foreign corn, which in times of moderate plenty amount to a prohibition, are not near so advantageous to the graziers and farmers of Great Britain, as other regulations of the same kind are to its merchants and manufacturers. Manufactures, those of the finer kind especially, are more easily transported from one country to another than corn or cattle. It is in the fetching and carrying manufactures, accordingly, that foreign trade is chiefly employed. In manufactures, a very small advantage will enable foreigners to undersell our own workmen, even in the home market. It will require a very great one to enable them to do so in the rude produce of the soil. If the free importation of foreign manufactures were permitted, several of the home manufactures would probably suffer, and some of them perhaps go to ruin altogether, and a considerable part of the stock and industry at present employed in them, would be forced to find out some other employment. But the freest importation of the rude produce of the soil could have no such effect upon the agriculture of the country.
If the importation of foreign cattle, for example, were made ever so free, so few could be imported, that the grazing trade of Great Britain could be little affected by it. Live cattle are, perhaps, the only commodity of which the transportation is more expensive by sea than by land. By land they carry themselves to market. By sea, not only the cattle, but their food and their water too, must be carried at no small expense and inconveniency. The short sea between Ireland and Great Britain, indeed, renders the importation of Irish cattle more easy. But though the free importation of them, which was lately permitted only for a limited time, were rendered perpetual, it could have no considerable effect upon the interest of the graziers of Great Britain. Those parts of Great Britain which border upon the Irish sea are all grazing countries. Irish cattle could never be imported for their use, but must be drove through those very extensive countries, at no small expense and inconveniency, before they could arrive at their proper market. Fat cattle could not be drove so far. Lean cattle, therefore, could only be imported; and such importation could interfere not with the interest of the feeding or fattening countries, to which, by reducing the price of lean cattle it would rather be advantageous, but with that of the breeding countries only. The small number of Irish cattle imported since their importation was permitted, together with the good price at which lean cattle still continue to sell, seem to demonstrate, that even the breeding countries of Great Britain are never likely to be much affected by the free importation of Irish cattle. The common people of Ireland, indeed, are said to have sometimes opposed with violence the exportation of their cattle. But if the exporters had found any great advantage in continuing the trade, they could easily, when the law was on their side, have conquered this mobbish opposition.
Feeding and fattening countries, besides, must always be highly improved, whereas breeding countries are generally uncultivated. The high price of lean cattle, by augmenting the value of uncultivated land, is like a bounty against improvement. To any country which was highly improved throughout, it would be more advantageous to import its lean cattle than to breed them. The province of Holland, accordingly, is said to follow this maxim at present. The mountains of Scotland, Wales, and Northumberland, indeed, are countries not capable of much improvement, and seem destined by nature to be the breeding countries of Great Britain. The freest importation of foreign cattle could have no other effect than to hinder those breeding countries from taking advantage of the increasing population and improvement of the rest of the kingdom, from raising their price to an exorbitant height, and from laying a real tax upon all the more improved and cultivated parts of the country.
The freest importation of salt provisions, in the same manner, could have as little effect upon the interest of the graziers of Great Britain as that of live cattle. Salt provisions are not only a very bulky commodity, but when compared with fresh meat they are a commodity both of worse quality, and, as they cost more labour and expense, of higher price. They could never, therefore, come into competition with the fresh meat, though they might with the salt provisions of the country. They might be used for victualling ships for distant voyages, and such like uses, but could never make any considerable part of the food of the people. The small quantity of salt provisions imported from Ireland since their importation was rendered free, is an experimental proof that our graziers have nothing to apprehend from it. It does not appear that the price of butcher’s meat has ever been sensibly affected by it.
Even the free importation of foreign corn could very little affect the interest of the farmers of Great Britain. Corn is a much more bulky commodity than butcher’s meat. A pound of wheat at a penny is as dear as a pound of butcher’s meat at fourpence. The small quantity of foreign corn imported even in times of the greatest scarcity, may satisfy our farmers that they can have nothing to fear from the freest importation. The average quantity imported, one year with another, amounts only, according to the very well informed author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade, to 23,728 quarters of all sorts of grain, and does not exceed the five hundredth and seventy-one part of the annual consumption. But as the bounty upon corn occasions a greater exportation in years of plenty, so it must, of consequence, occasion a greater importation in years of scarcity, than in the actual state of tillage would otherwise take place. By means of it, the plenty of one year does not compensate the scarcity of another; and as the average quantity exported is necessarily augmented by it, so must likewise, in the actual state of tillage, the average quantity imported. If there were no bounty, as less corn would be exported, so it is probable that, one year with another, less would be imported than at present. The corn-merchants, the fetchers and carriers of corn between Great Britain and foreign countries, would have much less employment, and might suffer considerably; but the country gentlemen and farmers could suffer very little. It is in the corn-merchants, accordingly, rather than the country gentlemen and farmers, that I have observed the greatest anxiety for the renewal and continuation of the bounty.
Country gentlemen and farmers are, to their great honour, of all people, the least subject to the wretched spirit of monopoly. The undertaker of a great manufactory is sometimes alarmed if another work of the same kind is established within twenty miles of him; the Dutch undertaker of the woollen manufacture at Abbeville, stipulated that no work of the same kind should be established within thirty leagues of that city. Farmers and country gentlemen, on the contrary, are generally disposed rather to promote, than to obstruct, the cultivation and improvement of their neighbours farms and estates. They have no secrets, such as those of the greater part of manufacturers, but are generally rather fond of communicating to their neighbours, and of extending as far as possible any new practice which they may have found to be advantageous. “Pius quaestus”, says old Cato, “stabilissimusque, minimeque invidiosus; minimeque male cogitantes sunt, qui in eo studio occupati sunt.” Country gentlemen and farmers, dispersed in different parts of the country, cannot so easily combine as merchants and manufacturers, who being collected into towns, and accustomed to that exclusive corporation spirit which prevails in them, naturally endeavour to obtain, against all their countrymen, the same exclusive privilege which they generally possess against the inhabitants of their respective towns. They accordingly seem to have been the original inventors of those restraints upon the importation of foreign goods, which secure to them the monopoly of the home market. It was probably in imitation of them, and to put themselves upon a level with those who, they found, were disposed to oppress them, that the country gentlemen and farmers of Great Britain so far forgot the generosity which is natural to their station, as to demand the exclusive privilege of supplying their countrymen with corn and butcher’s meat. They did not, perhaps, take time to consider how much less their interest could be affected by the freedom of trade, than that of the people whose example they followed.
To prohibit, by a perpetual law, the importation of foreign corn and cattle, is in reality to enact, that the population and industry of the country shall, at no time, exceed what the rude produce of its own soil can maintain.
There seem, however, to be two cases, in which it will generally be advantageous to lay some burden upon foreign, for the encouragement of domestic industry.
The first is, when some particular sort of industry is necessary for the defence of the country. The defence of Great Britain, for example, depends very much upon the number of its sailors and shipping. The act of navigation, therefore, very properly endeavours to give the sailors and shipping of Great Britain the monopoly of the trade of their own country, in some cases, by absolute prohibitions, and in others, by heavy burdens upon the shipping of foreign countries. The following are the principal dispositions of this act.
First, All ships, of which the owners, masters, and three-fourths of the mariners, are not British subjects, are prohibited, upon pain of forfeiting ship and cargo, from trading to the British settlements and plantations, or from being employed in the coasting trade of Great Britain.
Secondly, A great variety of the most bulky articles of importation can be brought into Great Britain only, either in such ships as are above described, or in ships of the country where those goods are produced, and of which the owners, masters, and three-fourths of the mariners, are of that particular country; and when imported even in ships of this latter kind, they are subject to double aliens duty. If imported in ships of any other country, the penalty is forfeiture of ship and goods. When this act was made, the Dutch were, what they still are, the great carriers of Europe; and by this regulation they were entirely excluded from being the carriers to Great Britain, or from importing to us the goods of any other European country.
Thirdly, A great variety of the most bulky articles of importation are prohibited from being imported, even in British ships, from any country but that in which they are produced, under pain of forfeiting ship and cargo. This regulation, too, was probably intended against the Dutch. Holland was then, as now, the great emporium for all European goods; and by this regulation, British ships were hindered from loading in Holland the goods of any other European country.
Fourthly, Salt fish of all kinds, whale fins, whalebone, oil, and blubber, not caught by and cured on board British vessels, when imported into Great Britain, are subject to double aliens duty. The Dutch, as they are still the principal, were then the only fishers in Europe that attempted to supply foreign nations with fish. By this regulation, a very heavy burden was laid upon their supplying Great Britain.
When the act of navigation was made, though England and Holland were not actually at war, the most violent animosity subsisted between the two nations. It had begun during the government of the long parliament, which first framed this act, and it broke out soon after in the Dutch wars, during that of the Protector and of Charles II. It is not impossible, therefore, that some of the regulations of this famous act may have proceeded from national animosity. They are as wise, however, as if they had all been dictated by the most deliberate wisdom. National animosity, at that particular time, aimed at the very same object which the most deliberate wisdom would have recommended, the diminution of the naval power of Holland, the only naval power which could endanger the security of England.
The act of navigation is not favourable to foreign commerce, or to the growth of that opulence which can arise from it. The interest of a nation, in its commercial relations to foreign nations, is, like that of a merchant with regard to the different people with whom he deals, to buy as cheap, and to sell as dear as possible. But it will be most likely to buy cheap, when, by the most perfect freedom of trade, it encourages all nations to bring to it the goods which it has occasion to purchase; and, for the same reason, it will be most likely to sell dear, when its markets are thus filled with the greatest number of buyers. The act of navigation, it is true, lays no burden upon foreign ships that come to export the produce of British industry. Even the ancient aliens duty, which used to be paid upon all goods, exported as well as imported, has, by several subsequent acts, been taken off from the greater part of the articles of exportation. But if foreigners, either by prohibitions or high duties, are hindered from coming to sell, they cannot always afford to come to buy; because, coming without a cargo, they must lose the freight from their own country to Great Britain. By diminishing the number of sellers, therefore, we necessarily diminish that of buyers, and are thus likely not only to buy foreign goods dearer, but to sell our own cheaper, than if there was a more perfect freedom of trade. As defence, however, is of much more importance than opulence, the act of navigation is, perhaps, the wisest of all the commercial regulations of England.
The second case, in which it will generally be advantageous to lay some burden upon foreign for the encouragement of domestic industry, is when some tax is imposed at home upon the produce of the latter. In this case, it seems reasonable that an equal tax should be imposed upon the like produce of the former. This would not give the monopoly of the home market to domestic industry, nor turn towards a particular employment a greater share of the stock and labour of the country, than what would naturally go to it. It would only hinder any part of what would naturally go to it from being turned away by the tax into a less natural direction, and would leave the competition between foreign and domestic industry, after the tax, as nearly as possible upon the same footing as before it. In Great Britain, when any such tax is laid upon the produce of domestic industry, it is usual, at the same time, in order to stop the clamorous complaints of our merchants and manufacturers, that they will be undersold at home, to lay a much heavier duty upon the importation of all foreign goods of the same kind.
This second limitation of the freedom of trade, according to some people, should, upon most occasions, be extended much farther than to the precise foreign commodities which could come into competition with those which had been taxed at home. When the necessaries of life have been taxed in any country, it becomes proper, they pretend, to tax not only the like necessaries of life imported from other countries, but all sorts of foreign goods which can come into competition with any thing that is the produce of domestic industry. Subsistence, they say, becomes necessarily dearer in consequence of such taxes; and the price of labour must always rise with the price of the labourer’s subsistence. Every commodity, therefore, which is the produce of domestic industry, though not immediately taxed itself, becomes dearer in consequence of such taxes, because the labour which produces it becomes so. Such taxes, therefore, are really equivalent, they say, to a tax upon every particular commodity produced at home. In order to put domestic upon the same footing with foreign industry, therefore, it becomes necessary, they think, to lay some duty upon every foreign commodity, equal to this enhancement of the price of the home commodities with which it can come into competition.
English
Merchants and manufacturers gain the greatest advantage from this monopoly of the domestic market. The ban on importing foreign cattle and salted provisions, together with the high duties on foreign grain that amount to a ban in times of moderate abundance, benefit the graziers and farmers of Great Britain far less than similar regulations benefit its merchants and manufacturers. Manufactured goods, especially finer ones, are more easily carried from country to country than grain or cattle. Foreign trade is accordingly employed chiefly in transporting manufactured goods. In manufactures, even a very small advantage enables foreigners to undersell our workmen in the domestic market; in the raw produce of the soil, they would need a very great one. If foreign manufactures could be freely imported, several domestic manufactures would probably suffer, and some might be ruined altogether; much of the stock and industry now employed in them would have to find other work. But even wholly free imports of raw agricultural produce could have no such effect on the country’s agriculture.
If imports of foreign cattle, for example, were made completely free, so few animals could be brought in that British grazing would scarcely be affected. Live cattle are perhaps the only commodity costlier to transport by sea than by land. On land they carry themselves to market. At sea their food and water, as well as the animals themselves, must be carried at considerable expense and inconvenience. The short crossing from Ireland to Great Britain does, indeed, make importing Irish cattle easier. But even if their free importation, recently allowed only for a limited period, became permanent, it could have no substantial effect on British graziers’ interests. All those parts of Great Britain bordering the Irish Sea are grazing country. Irish cattle could never be imported to serve those districts; before reaching their proper market they would have to be driven through these extensive grazing lands, at no small expense and inconvenience. Fattened cattle could not be driven so far. Only lean cattle, therefore, could be imported. Such imports would interfere not with the districts that feed and fatten cattle—to these, a lower price for lean cattle would be an advantage—but only with the districts that breed them. The small number of Irish cattle imported since imports were permitted, and the good price that lean cattle still command, seem to show that even Britain’s breeding districts are unlikely to be much affected by free imports of Irish cattle. The common people of Ireland, indeed, are said sometimes to have resisted the export of their cattle violently. But if exporters had found any great advantage in maintaining the trade, they could easily have overcome this mob opposition with the law on their side.
Moreover, districts that feed and fatten cattle must always be highly improved, while breeding districts are generally uncultivated. A high price for lean cattle, by raising the value of uncultivated land, acts like a bounty against improvement. A country improved throughout would gain more by importing lean cattle than by breeding them. The province of Holland is said to follow this principle today. The mountains of Scotland, Wales, and Northumberland, however, admit of little improvement, and seem destined by nature to breed Great Britain’s cattle. Free imports of foreign cattle could do no more than prevent these breeding districts from exploiting the growing population and improvement of the rest of the kingdom to raise their prices exorbitantly and impose a real tax on all the more improved and cultivated parts of the country.
In the same way, even completely free imports of salted provisions would affect British graziers’ interests as little as imports of live cattle. Salted provisions are not only very bulky; compared with fresh meat, they are inferior in quality and, because they require more labor and expense, higher in price. They could therefore never compete with fresh meat, though they might compete with salted provisions produced at home. They might serve to provision ships on long voyages and for similar uses, but could never become a substantial part of the people’s diet. The small quantity of salted provisions imported from Ireland since imports were freed provides practical proof that our graziers have nothing to fear. There is no indication that these imports have noticeably affected the price of butcher’s meat.
Even free imports of foreign grain would have very little effect on British farmers’ interests. Grain is much bulkier than butcher’s meat. A pound of wheat at a penny is as expensive as a pound of butcher’s meat at fourpence. The small amount of foreign grain imported even in the greatest shortages should assure our farmers they have nothing to fear from completely free imports. According to the very well-informed author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade, imports average only 23,728 quarters of all kinds of grain from year to year, no more than the five hundredth and seventy-one part of annual consumption. But just as the bounty on grain causes more to be exported in abundant years, it must also cause more to be imported in scarce years than the present state of cultivation would otherwise require. Because of the bounty, one abundant year does not make up for another year’s scarcity; and as it necessarily increases average exports, so, given the present state of cultivation, it must increase average imports. Without the bounty less grain would be exported, and probably less, on average, would be imported than at present. Grain merchants, who carry grain between Great Britain and foreign countries, would have much less business and might suffer considerably; landowners and farmers would suffer very little. Accordingly, I have observed the greatest concern for renewing and continuing the bounty among grain merchants rather than landowners and farmers.
To their great credit, landowners and farmers are less prone than anyone to the wretched spirit of monopoly. The owner of a great manufactory is sometimes alarmed when another of the same kind is established within twenty miles of him; the Dutch proprietor of the woolen manufactory at Abbeville stipulated that no such works should be established within thirty leagues of that city. Farmers and landowners, by contrast, are generally inclined to encourage rather than obstruct the cultivation and improvement of their neighbors’ farms and estates. Unlike most manufacturers, they have no secrets, and are generally eager to share with their neighbors and spread as widely as possible any useful new practice they have discovered. “An honorable livelihood,” says old Cato, “the most secure and the least envied; those occupied in it are least inclined to evil thoughts.” Landowners and farmers, scattered throughout the country, cannot combine as readily as merchants and manufacturers, who gather in towns. Accustomed to the exclusive corporate spirit prevalent there, merchants and manufacturers naturally try to obtain against all their countrymen the same exclusive privilege they commonly hold against the other inhabitants of their own towns. They thus appear to have first devised the restrictions on imports of foreign goods that secure their monopoly of the domestic market. Probably to imitate them and put themselves on an equal footing with those they found disposed to oppress them, the landowners and farmers of Great Britain so far forgot the generosity natural to their position as to demand the exclusive privilege of supplying their countrymen with grain and butcher’s meat. They perhaps did not stop to consider how much less their interests could be affected by free trade than those of the people whose example they followed.
Permanently to prohibit imports of foreign grain and cattle is in effect to decree that the country’s population and industry must never exceed what the raw produce of its own soil can support.
There are, however, two cases in which it will generally be advantageous to place some burden on foreign industry to encourage domestic industry.
The first is when a particular industry is necessary to defend the country. The defense of Great Britain, for example, depends greatly on the number of its sailors and ships. The Navigation Act therefore quite properly attempts to grant British sailors and ships a monopoly over the country’s trade, in some cases by absolute prohibitions and in others by heavy burdens on foreign shipping. Its principal provisions are as follows.
First, ships without British owners and masters and a crew at least three-fourths British are forbidden, on pain of forfeiture of ship and cargo, to trade with British settlements and plantations or engage in the coastal trade of Great Britain.
Secondly, a great variety of the bulkiest imports may enter Great Britain only in ships meeting those British ownership, command, and crew requirements, or in ships belonging to the country where the goods were produced, whose owners, masters, and three-fourths of whose sailors belong to that country. Even when imported in ships of the latter kind, they incur double aliens duty. If imported in ships of any other country, both ship and goods are forfeited. When the act was passed, the Dutch were, as they remain, Europe’s great carriers; this rule entirely excluded them from carrying goods to Great Britain or importing for us the goods of any other European country.
Thirdly, a great variety of the bulkiest imports may not be brought in even aboard British ships from any country other than the one where they were produced, on pain of forfeiture of ship and cargo. This regulation, too, was probably directed against the Dutch. Holland was then, as now, the great marketplace for all European goods; under this rule British ships could not load goods from any other European country there.
Fourthly, all kinds of salt fish, whale fins, whalebone, oil, and blubber not caught and cured aboard British vessels incur double aliens duty when imported into Great Britain. The Dutch, now the principal suppliers of fish to foreign nations, were then the only fishers in Europe attempting that trade. This rule placed a very heavy burden on their supplying Great Britain.
When the Navigation Act was passed, England and Holland were not actually at war, but the most violent hostility prevailed between them. It had begun under the Long Parliament, which first drafted the act, and soon erupted into the Dutch wars under the Protector and Charles II. Some provisions of this famous act may therefore have arisen from national hostility. They are nonetheless as wise as if they had all been dictated by the most careful judgment. At that particular time, national hostility aimed at precisely what careful judgment would have recommended: weakening the naval power of Holland, the only naval power that could endanger England’s security.
The Navigation Act does not favor foreign commerce or the growth of the wealth that can arise from it. In its commercial dealings with other nations, a nation’s interest is like a merchant’s interest in dealing with different people: to buy as cheaply and sell as dearly as possible. It is most likely to buy cheaply when perfect freedom of trade encourages every nation to bring it goods it wishes to purchase; for the same reason, it is most likely to sell dearly when its markets attract the greatest possible number of buyers. The Navigation Act, it is true, imposes no burden on foreign ships arriving to export the products of British industry. Even the old aliens duty, once payable on all goods exported as well as imported, has been removed from most exports by several subsequent acts. But if foreigners are prevented from coming to sell by prohibitions or high duties, they cannot always afford to come to buy: sailing without cargo, they lose the freight they might have earned from their country to Great Britain. By reducing the number of sellers, then, we necessarily reduce the number of buyers, and are likely not only to buy foreign goods more dearly but also to sell our own more cheaply than under freer trade. Defense, however, matters far more than wealth; the Navigation Act is perhaps the wisest of all England’s commercial regulations.
The second case in which a burden on foreign industry will generally be advantageous in encouraging domestic industry arises when a tax is placed at home on the latter’s products. It then seems reasonable to impose an equal tax on similar foreign products. This would neither give domestic industry a monopoly of the home market nor divert more of the country’s stock and labor into a particular employment than would naturally flow there. It would merely prevent some of what would naturally flow there from being driven by the tax into a less natural direction, leaving competition between foreign and domestic industry as nearly as possible on the same terms after the tax as before it. In Great Britain, however, when domestic goods are so taxed, it is usual at the same time to impose a much heavier duty on imports of foreign goods of the same kind, to quiet the loud complaints of merchants and manufacturers that foreign rivals will undersell them at home.
Some people argue that this second restriction of free trade should generally extend far beyond the precise foreign goods that could compete with those taxed at home. If a country taxes the necessities of life, they claim, it is proper to tax not only similar necessities imported from abroad but every kind of foreign good that could compete with any domestic product. Such taxes, they say, necessarily raise the cost of subsistence, and the price of labor must always rise along with the cost of supporting the laborer. Thus every domestically produced commodity, although not directly taxed, becomes dearer because the labor that makes it becomes dearer. Taxes on necessities, they say, therefore amount in effect to a tax on each commodity produced at home. To place domestic industry on equal terms with foreign industry, they conclude, it is necessary to impose a duty on every foreign commodity equal to the increase in price of the competing domestic commodities.
Book IV, Chapter II, 3
18th-century English
Whether taxes upon the necessaries of life, such as those in Great Britain upon soap, salt, leather, candles, etc. necessarily raise the price of labour, and consequently that of all other commodities, I shall consider hereafter, when I come to treat of taxes. Supposing, however, in the mean time, that they have this effect, and they have it undoubtedly, this general enhancement of the price of all commodities, in consequence of that labour, is a case which differs in the two following respects from that of a particular commodity, of which the price was enhanced by a particular tax immediately imposed upon it.
First, It might always be known with great exactness, how far the price of such a commodity could be enhanced by such a tax; but how far the general enhancement of the price of labour might affect that of every different commodity about which labour was employed, could never be known with any tolerable exactness. It would be impossible, therefore, to proportion, with any tolerable exactness, the tax of every foreign, to the enhancement of the price of every home commodity.
Secondly, Taxes upon the necessaries of life have nearly the same effect upon the circumstances of the people as a poor soil and a bad climate. Provisions are thereby rendered dearer, in the same manner as if it required extraordinary labour and expense to raise them. As, in the natural scarcity arising from soil and climate, it would be absurd to direct the people in what manner they ought to employ their capitals and industry, so is it likewise in the artificial scarcity arising from such taxes. To be left to accommodate, as well as they could, their industry to their situation, and to find out those employments in which, notwithstanding their unfavourable circumstances, they might have some advantage either in the home or in the foreign market, is what, in both cases, would evidently be most for their advantage. To lay a new-tax upon them, because they are already overburdened with taxes, and because they already pay too dear for the necessaries of life, to make them likewise pay too dear for the greater part of other commodities, is certainly a most absurd way of making amends.
Such taxes, when they have grown up to a certain height, are a curse equal to the barrenness of the earth, and the inclemency of the heavens, and yet it is in the richest and most industrious countries that they have been most generally imposed. No other countries could support so great a disorder. As the strongest bodies only can live and enjoy health under an unwholesome regimen, so the nations only, that in every sort of industry have the greatest natural and acquired advantages, can subsist and prosper under such taxes. Holland is the country in Europe in which they abound most, and which, from peculiar circumstances, continues to prosper, not by means of them, as has been most absurdly supposed, but in spite of them.
As there are two cases in which it will generally be advantageous to lay some burden upon foreign for the encouragement of domestic industry, so there are two others in which it may sometimes be a matter of deliberation, in the one, how far it is proper to continue the free importation of certain foreign goods; and, in the other, how far, or in what manner, it may be proper to restore that free importation, after it has been for some time interrupted.
The case in which it may sometimes be a matter of deliberation how far it is proper to continue the free importation of certain foreign goods, is when some foreign nation restrains, by high duties or prohibitions, the importation of some of our manufactures into their country. Revenge, in this case, naturally dictates retaliation, and that we should impose the like duties and prohibitions upon the importation of some or all of their manufactures into ours. Nations, accordingly, seldom fail to retaliate in this manner. The French have been particularly forward to favour their own manufactures, by restraining the importation of such foreign goods as could come into competition with them. In this consisted a great part of the policy of Mr Colbert, who, notwithstanding his great abilities, seems in this case to have been imposed upon by the sophistry of merchants and manufacturers, who are always demanding a monopoly against their countrymen. It is at present the opinion of the most intelligent men in France, that his operations of this kind have not been beneficial to his country. That minister, by the tariff of 1667, imposed very high duties upon a great number of foreign manufactures. Upon his refusing to moderate them in favour of the Dutch, they, in 1671, prohibited the importation of the wines, brandies, and manufactures of France. The war of 1672 seems to have been in part occasioned by this commercial dispute. The peace of Nimeguen put an end to it in 1678, by moderating some of those duties in favour of the Dutch, who in consequence took off their prohibition. It was about the same time that the French and English began mutually to oppress each other’s industry, by the like duties and prohibitions, of which the French, however, seem to have set the first example, The spirit of hostility which has subsisted between the two nations ever since, has hitherto hindered them from being moderated on either side. In 1697, the English prohibited the importation of bone lace, the manufacture of Flanders. The government of that country, at that time under the dominion of Spain, prohibited, in return, the importation of English woollens. In 1700, the prohibition of importing bone lace into England was taken off upon condition that the importation of English woollens into Flanders should be put on the same footing as before.
There may be good policy in retaliations of this kind, when there is a probability that they will procure the repeal of the high duties or prohibitions complained of. The recovery of a great foreign market will generally more than compensate the transitory inconveniency of paying dearer during a short time for some sorts of goods. To judge whether such retaliations are likely to produce such an effect, does not, perhaps, belong so much to the science of a legislator, whose deliberations ought to be governed by general principles, which are always the same, as to the skill of that insidious and crafty animal vulgarly called a statesman or politician, whose councils are directed by the momentary fluctuations of affairs. When there is no probability that any such repeal can be procured, it seems a bad method of compensating the injury done to certain classes of our people, to do another injury ourselves, not only to those classes, but to almost all the other classes of them. When our neighbours prohibit some manufacture of ours, we generally prohibit, not only the same, for that alone would seldom affect them considerably, but some other manufacture of theirs. This may, no doubt, give encouragement to some particular class of workmen among ourselves, and, by excluding some of their rivals, may enable them to raise their price in the home market. Those workmen however, who suffered by our neighbours prohibition, will not be benefited by ours. On the contrary, they, and almost all the other classes of our citizens, will thereby be obliged to pay dearer than before for certain goods. Every such law, therefore, imposes a real tax upon the whole country, not in favour of that particular class of workmen who were injured by our neighbours prohibitions, but of some other class.
The case in which it may sometimes be a matter of deliberation, how far, or in what manner, it is proper to restore the free importation of foreign goods, after it has been for some time interrupted, is when particular manufactures, by means of high duties or prohibitions upon all foreign goods which can come into competition with them, have been so far extended as to employ a great multitude of hands. Humanity may in this case require that the freedom of trade should be restored only by slow gradations, and with a good deal of reserve and circumspection. Were those high duties and prohibitions taken away all at once, cheaper foreign goods of the same kind might be poured so fast into the home market, as to deprive all at once many thousands of our people of their ordinary employment and means of subsistence. The disorder which this would occasion might no doubt be very considerable. It would in all probability, however, be much less than is commonly imagined, for the two following reasons.
First, All those manufactures of which any part is commonly exported to other European countries without a bounty, could be very little affected by the freest importation of foreign goods. Such manufactures must be sold as cheap abroad as any other foreign goods of the same quality and kind, and consequently must be sold cheaper at home. They would still, therefore, keep possession of the home market; and though a capricious man of fashion might sometimes prefer foreign wares, merely because they were foreign, to cheaper and better goods of the same kind that were made at home, this folly could, from the nature of things, extend to so few, that it could make no sensible impression upon the general employment of the people. But a great part of all the different branches of our woollen manufacture, of our tanned leather, and of our hardware, are annually exported to other European countries without any bounty, and these are the manufactures which employ the greatest number of hands. The silk, perhaps, is the manufacture which would suffer the most by this freedom of trade, and after it the linen, though the latter much less than the former.
Secondly, Though a great number of people should, by thus restoring the freedom of trade, be thrown all at once out of their ordinary employment and common method of subsistence, it would by no means follow that they would thereby be deprived either of employment or subsistence. By the reduction of the army and navy at the end of the late war, more than 100,000 soldiers and seamen, a number equal to what is employed in the greatest manufactures, were all at once thrown out of their ordinary employment: but though they no doubt suffered some inconveniency, they were not thereby deprived of all employment and subsistence. The greater part of the seamen, it is probable, gradually betook themselves to the merchant service as they could find occasion, and in the mean time both they and the soldiers were absorbed in the great mass of the people, and employed in a great variety of occupations. Not only no great convulsion, but no sensible disorder, arose from so great a change in the situation of more than 100,000 men, all accustomed to the use of arms, and many of them to rapine and plunder. The number of vagrants was scarce anywhere sensibly increased by it; even the wages of labour were not reduced by it in any occupation, so far as I have been able to learn, except in that of seamen in the merchant service. But if we compare together the habits of a soldier and of any sort of manufacturer, we shall find that those of the latter do not tend so much to disqualify him from being employed in a new trade, as those of the former from being employed in any. The manufacturer has always been accustomed to look for his subsistence from his labour only; the soldier to expect it from his pay. Application and industry have been familiar to the one; idleness and dissipation to the other. But it is surely much easier to change the direction of industry from one sort of labour to another, than to turn idleness and dissipation to any. To the greater part of manufactures, besides, it has already been observed, there are other collateral manufactures of so similar a nature, that a workman can easily transfer his industry from one of them to another. The greater part of such workmen, too, are occasionally employed in country labour. The stock which employed them in a particular manufacture before, will still remain in the country, to employ an equal number of people in some other way. The capital of the country remaining the same, the demand for labour will likewise be the same, or very nearly the same, though it may be exerted in different places, and for different occupations. Soldiers and seamen, indeed, when discharged from the king’s service, are at liberty to exercise any trade within any town or place of Great Britain or Ireland. Let the same natural liberty of exercising what species of industry they please, be restored to all his Majesty’s subjects, in the same manner as to soldiers and seamen; that is, break down the exclusive privileges of corporations, and repeal the statute of apprenticeship, both which are really encroachments upon natural Liberty, and add to those the repeal of the law of settlements, so that a poor workman, when thrown out of employment, either in one trade or in one place, may seek for it in another trade or in another place, without the fear either of a prosecution or of a removal; and neither the public nor the individuals will suffer much more from the occasional disbanding some particular classes of manufacturers, than from that of the soldiers. Our manufacturers have no doubt great merit with their country, but they cannot have more than those who defend it with their blood, nor deserve to be treated with more delicacy.
To expect, indeed, that the freedom of trade should ever be entirely restored in Great Britain, is as absurd as to expect that an Oceana or Utopia should ever be established in it. Not only the prejudices of the public, but, what is much more unconquerable, the private interests of many individuals, irresistibly oppose it. Were the officers of the army to oppose, with the same zeal and unanimity, any reduction in the number of forces, with which master manufacturers set themselves against every law that is likely to increase the number of their rivals in the home market; were the former to animate their soldiers, in the same manner as the latter inflame their workmen, to attack with violence and outrage the proposers of any such regulation; to attempt to reduce the army would be as dangerous as it has now become to attempt to diminish, in any respect, the monopoly which our manufacturers have obtained against us. This monopoly has so much increased the number of some particular tribes of them, that, like an overgrown standing army, they have become formidable to the government, and, upon many occasions, intimidate the legislature. The member of parliament who supports every proposal for strengthening this monopoly, is sure to acquire not only the reputation of understanding trade, but great popularity and influence with an order of men whose numbers and wealth render them of great importance. If he opposes them, on the contrary, and still more, if he has authority enough to be able to thwart them, neither the most acknowledged probity, nor the highest rank, nor the greatest public services, can protect him from the most infamous abuse and detraction, from personal insults, nor sometimes from real danger, arising from the insolent outrage of furious and disappointed monopolists.
The undertaker of a great manufacture, who, by the home markets being suddenly laid open to the competition of foreigners, should be obliged to abandon his trade, would no doubt suffer very considerably. That part of his capital which had usually been employed in purchasing materials, and in paying his workmen, might, without much difficulty, perhaps, find another employment; but that part of it which was fixed in workhouses, and in the instruments of trade, could scarce be disposed of without considerable loss. The equitable regard, therefore, to his interest, requires that changes of this kind should never be introduced suddenly, but slowly, gradually, and after a very long warning. The legislature, were it possible that its deliberations could be always directed, not by the clamorous importunity of partial interests, but by an extensive view of the general good, ought, upon this very account, perhaps, to be particularly careful, neither to establish any new monopolies of this kind, nor to extend further those which are already established. Every such regulation introduces some degree of real disorder into the constitution of the state, which it will be difficult afterwards to cure without occasioning another disorder.
How far it may be proper to impose taxes upon the importation of foreign goods, in order not to prevent their importation, but to raise a revenue for government, I shall consider hereafter when I come to treat of taxes. Taxes imposed with a view to prevent, or even to diminish importation, are evidently as destructive of the revenue of the customs as of the freedom of trade.
English
Whether taxes on the necessities of life, such as those in Great Britain on soap, salt, leather, candles, etc., necessarily raise the price of labor and consequently that of every other commodity, I shall consider later, when I discuss taxes. For now, however, suppose they have this effect—as they undoubtedly do. The resulting general rise in the prices of all goods, brought about by the rise in labor costs, differs in the following two respects from a rise in the price of one particular commodity caused by a tax laid directly upon it.
First, one can always determine quite precisely how much such a tax might raise the price of a particular commodity; but no one can determine with tolerable precision how much a general rise in the price of labor might affect the price of each different commodity made with labor. It would therefore be impossible to proportion the tax on each foreign good, with tolerable precision, to the increase in the price of the corresponding domestic good.
Secondly, taxes on the necessities of life have much the same effect on the people’s circumstances as poor soil and an unfavorable climate. They make provisions dearer, just as though extraordinary labor and expense were required to produce them. It would be absurd, in the natural scarcity caused by soil and climate, to dictate how people should employ their stock and industry; it is equally absurd in the artificial scarcity caused by these taxes. In either case, their clear advantage lies in being left to adapt their industry as best they can to their situation and discover the employments in which, despite their unfavorable circumstances, they may have some advantage in domestic or foreign markets. To impose a new tax on people because they are already overburdened with taxes and already pay too much for necessities, making them pay too much for most other goods as well, is surely a most absurd form of compensation.
When such taxes reach a certain height, they become a curse equal to barren earth and an inclement sky; yet they are most commonly imposed in the richest and most industrious countries. No other countries could bear so great a disorder. Just as only the strongest bodies can survive and remain healthy under an unhealthy regimen, only nations with the greatest natural and acquired advantages in every sort of industry can survive and prosper under such taxes. Holland is the country in Europe where they are most abundant; owing to its peculiar circumstances, it continues to prosper not because of them, as has been most absurdly supposed, but in spite of them.
As there are two cases in which it will generally be advantageous to place some burden on foreign industry to encourage domestic industry, there are also two in which it may sometimes be worth considering a question: in one, whether to continue admitting certain foreign goods freely; in the other, whether, or in what manner, to restore their free importation after it has been interrupted for some time.
It may sometimes be worth considering whether to continue free importation of certain foreign goods when another nation restricts imports of some of our manufactures by high duties or prohibitions. Revenge naturally calls for retaliation in this case: we should impose similar duties and prohibitions on imports of some or all of its manufactures. Nations accordingly seldom fail to retaliate in this way. The French have been particularly eager to favor their own manufactures by restricting imports of competing foreign goods. Much of Mr Colbert’s policy consisted of this; for all his great abilities, he appears in this instance to have been taken in by the sophistry of merchants and manufacturers, who are always demanding a monopoly against their own countrymen. The most perceptive men in France now hold that measures of this sort did not benefit their country. By the tariff of 1667, that minister imposed very high duties on a great many foreign manufactures. When he refused to reduce them for the Dutch, the Dutch in 1671 prohibited imports of French wines, brandies, and manufactures. The war of 1672 seems to have arisen partly from this commercial dispute. The peace of Nimeguen ended it in 1678 by reducing some of these duties for the Dutch, who consequently lifted their prohibition. At about the same time, the French and English began imposing similar duties and prohibitions on each other’s industry, though the French appear to have set the first example. The spirit of hostility that has prevailed between the two nations ever since has so far prevented either side from easing them. In 1697, the English prohibited imports of bone lace made in Flanders. The government of that country, then under Spanish rule, retaliated by prohibiting imports of English woolens. In 1700, the ban on importing bone lace into England was lifted on condition that English woolens entering Flanders should regain their former status.
Retaliation of this sort may be sound policy when it is likely to secure the repeal of the high duties or prohibitions complained of. Recovering a large foreign market will generally more than make up for the temporary inconvenience of paying more for certain goods for a short while. Judging whether retaliation will have that effect may belong less to the science of a legislator, whose deliberations ought to follow enduring general principles, than to the skill of that cunning and crafty animal commonly called a statesman or politician, whose counsel follows the passing turns of events. When there is no likelihood of securing such a repeal, it seems a poor way to compensate for harm done to some of our people to inflict another injury ourselves, not only on those people but on nearly everyone else. When our neighbors prohibit one of our manufactures, we usually prohibit not only the same manufacture of theirs, since that alone would seldom affect them much, but another as well. This may certainly encourage a particular class of our workmen and, by excluding some competitors, enable them to raise their prices in the domestic market. But the workmen hurt by our neighbors’ prohibition will not benefit from ours. Instead, they and nearly every other class of our citizens will have to pay more than before for certain goods. Every such law therefore imposes a real tax on the whole country, benefiting not the workmen injured by our neighbors’ prohibitions but another class altogether.
The case in which it may sometimes be worth considering whether, or how, to restore free importation of foreign goods after it has been interrupted for some time arises when particular manufactures have grown, through high duties or bans on all competing foreign goods, so extensive that they employ a great multitude of workers. Humanity may then require trade to be freed only gradually, with considerable restraint and care. If the high duties and prohibitions were removed at once, cheaper foreign goods of the same kind might pour into the domestic market so quickly that many thousands of our people would suddenly lose their regular employment and means of subsistence. The disruption might undoubtedly be considerable. It would probably, however, be much less than is generally imagined, for the following two reasons.
First, manufactures that regularly export any portion of their goods to other European countries without a bounty could be very little affected even by completely free imports. Their goods must sell abroad as cheaply as foreign goods of the same kind and quality, and therefore must sell more cheaply at home. They would accordingly retain the domestic market. Though a capricious fashionable person might sometimes prefer foreign wares simply because they are foreign, even when cheaper and better goods of the same kind are made at home, this folly must by its nature be confined to so few that it could have no appreciable effect on employment generally. Yet much of every branch of our woolen manufacture, our tanned leather, and our hardware is exported to other European countries each year without a bounty; these are the manufactures employing the greatest number of workers. Silk is perhaps the manufacture most likely to suffer from free trade, followed by linen, though linen would suffer much less.
Secondly, even if a large number of people were suddenly displaced from their usual employment and ordinary means of subsistence by the restoration of free trade, it would not follow that they would have no employment or means of subsistence at all. When the army and navy were reduced at the end of the last war, more than 100,000 soldiers and sailors—equal in number to the workers in the largest manufactures—lost their regular occupations at once. Yet, although they undoubtedly suffered some inconvenience, they did not lose all work or subsistence. Most sailors probably entered the merchant service gradually as opportunities arose; meanwhile, both sailors and soldiers were absorbed into the wider population and employed in a great variety of occupations. From so great a change in the circumstances of more than 100,000 men, all used to bearing arms and many to robbery and plunder, there arose not only no great upheaval, but no appreciable disorder. The number of vagrants scarcely increased noticeably anywhere; so far as I have learned, wages did not fall in any occupation except among merchant sailors. Compare the habits of a soldier with those of any kind of manufacturing worker, and we shall find that the worker’s habits are far less likely to disqualify him from a new trade than the soldier’s habits from any trade at all. The worker has always been accustomed to depend for subsistence on his labor alone, while the soldier expects his pay. Steady work and industry are familiar to the one; idleness and dissipation to the other. Surely it is much easier to turn industry from one kind of labor to another than to turn idleness and dissipation toward any labor. Besides, as has already been noted, most manufactures have related branches so similar that a workman can readily transfer his industry from one to another. Most such workmen also do agricultural labor from time to time. The stock that formerly employed them in one manufacture will remain in the country and employ an equal number of people in another way. With the country’s capital unchanged, demand for labor will likewise be the same, or very nearly so, though it may be directed to different places and occupations. Soldiers and sailors discharged from the king’s service, moreover, are free to pursue any trade in any town or place in Great Britain or Ireland. Let the same natural freedom to practice whatever kind of industry they choose be restored to all his Majesty’s subjects as to soldiers and sailors: abolish the exclusive privileges of corporations and repeal the statute of apprenticeship, both of them real encroachments on natural liberty; repeal as well the law of settlements, so that a poor workman displaced from one trade or place may seek work in another trade or place without fear of prosecution or removal. Neither the public nor individuals will then suffer much more from the occasional disbanding of a particular class of manufacturing workers than from the discharge of soldiers. Our manufacturers undoubtedly deserve well of their country; but they cannot deserve better than those who defend it with their blood, nor merit more delicate treatment.
To expect free trade ever to be fully restored in Great Britain, indeed, is as absurd as to expect an Oceana or Utopia to be established there. Public prejudice opposes it, but far more insurmountably so do the private interests of many individuals. Imagine army officers opposing any reduction of their forces with the same zeal and unanimity with which master manufacturers oppose every law likely to increase their domestic competitors; imagine those officers inciting soldiers, as manufacturers inflame their workmen, to attack the proponents of such a measure with violence and outrage. Reducing the army would then be as dangerous as it has now become to diminish in any respect the monopoly our manufacturers have secured against us. This monopoly has so enlarged certain groups among them that, like an overgrown standing army, they have become formidable to the government and on many occasions intimidate the legislature. A member of parliament who supports every proposal to strengthen this monopoly is certain to gain both a reputation for understanding trade and great popularity and influence with a body of men whose numbers and wealth make them important. If, on the contrary, he opposes them—and still more if he has enough authority to thwart them—neither the most widely recognized integrity, the highest rank, nor the greatest public services can shield him from the vilest abuse and slander, from personal insults, or sometimes from real danger at the hands of enraged and disappointed monopolists.
The proprietor of a great manufacture forced to abandon his business because the domestic markets were suddenly opened to foreign competition would undoubtedly suffer severely. The portion of his capital ordinarily used to buy materials and pay his workmen might perhaps be put to another use without much difficulty; but the portion fixed in workshops and tools could scarcely be disposed of without substantial loss. Fair regard for his interests therefore requires that changes of this kind never be introduced suddenly, but slowly, gradually, and after very long notice. If the legislature’s deliberations could always be guided not by the clamorous demands of special interests but by a broad view of the general good, it ought, perhaps for this very reason, to take particular care neither to create new monopolies of this kind nor to expand those already established. Every such regulation introduces some real disorder into the constitution of the state that will later be hard to cure without causing another disorder.
How far it may be proper to tax imports of foreign goods, not to prevent their importation but to raise government revenue, I shall consider later when I discuss taxes. Taxes designed to prevent imports, or even reduce them, plainly damage customs revenue as much as they damage free trade.
Book IV, Chapter III, 1
18th-century English
OF THE EXTRAORDINARY RESTRAINTS UPON THE IMPORTATION OF GOODS OF ALMOST ALL KINDS, FROM THOSE COUNTRIES WITH WHICH THE BALANCE IS SUPPOSED TO BE DISADVANTAGEOUS.
Part I—Of the Unreasonableness of those Restraints, even upon the Principles of the Commercial System.
To lay extraordinary restraints upon the importation of goods of almost all kinds, from those particular countries with which the balance of trade is supposed to be disadvantageous, is the second expedient by which the commercial system proposes to increase the quantity of gold and silver. Thus, in Great Britain, Silesia lawns may be imported for home consumption, upon paying certain duties; but French cambrics and lawns are prohibited to be imported, except into the port of London, there to be warehoused for exportation. Higher duties are imposed upon the wines of France than upon those of Portugal, or indeed of any other country. By what is called the impost 1692, a duty of five and-twenty per cent. of the rate or value, was laid upon all French goods; while the goods of other nations were, the greater part of them, subjected to much lighter duties, seldom exceeding five per cent. The wine, brandy, salt, and vinegar of France, were indeed excepted; these commodities being subjected to other heavy duties, either by other laws, or by particular clauses of the same law. In 1696, a second duty of twenty-five per cent. the first not having been thought a sufficient discouragement, was imposed upon all French goods, except brandy; together with a new duty of five-and-twenty pounds upon the ton of French wine, and another of fifteen pounds upon the ton of French vinegar. French goods have never been omitted in any of those general subsidies or duties of five per cent. which have been imposed upon all, or the greater part, of the goods enumerated in the book of rates. If we count the one-third and two-third subsidies as making a complete subsidy between them, there have been five of these general subsidies; so that, before the commencement of the present war, seventy-five per cent. may be considered as the lowest duty to which the greater part of the goods of the growth, produce, or manufacture of France, were liable. But upon the greater part of goods, those duties are equivalent to a prohibition. The French, in their turn, have, I believe, treated our goods and manufactures just as hardly; though I am not so well acquainted with the particular hardships which they have imposed upon them. Those mutual restraints have put an end to almost all fair commerce between the two nations; and smugglers are now the principal importers, either of British goods into France, or of French goods into Great Britain. The principles which I have been examining, in the foregoing chapter, took their origin from private interest and the spirit of monopoly; those which I am going te examine in this, from national prejudice and animosity. They are, accordingly, as might well be expected, still more unreasonable. They are so, even upon the principles of the commercial system.
First, Though it were certain that in the case of a free trade between France and England, for example, the balance would be in favour of France, it would by no means follow that such a trade would be disadvantageous to England, or that the general balance of its whole trade would thereby be turned more against it. If the wines of France are better and cheaper than those of Portugal, or its linens than those of Germany, it would be more advantageous for Great Britain to purchase both the wine and the foreign linen which it had occasion for of France, than of Portugal and Germany. Though the value of the annual importations from France would thereby be greatly augmented, the value of the whole annual importations would be diminished, in proportion as the French goods of the same quality were cheaper than those of the other two countries. This would be the case, even upon the supposition that the whole French goods imported were to be consumed in Great Britain.
But, Secondly, A great part of them might be re-exported to other countries, where, being sold with profit, they might bring back a return, equal in value, perhaps, to the prime cost of the whole French goods imported. What has frequently been said of the East India trade, might possibly be true of the French; that though the greater part of East India goods were bought with gold and silver, the re-exportation of a part of them to other countries brought back more gold and silver to that which carried on the trade, than the prime cost of the whole amounted to. One of the most important branches of the Dutch trade at present, consists in the carriage of French goods to other European countries. Some part even of the French wine drank in Great Britain, is clandestinely imported from Holland and Zealand. If there was either a free trade between France and England, or if French goods could be imported upon paying only the same duties as those of other European nations, to be drawn back upon exportation, England might have some share of a trade which is found so advantageous to Holland.
Thirdly, and lastly, There is no certain criterion by which we can determine on which side what is called the balance between any two countries lies, or which of them exports to the greatest value. National prejudice and animosity, prompted always by the private interest of particular traders, are the principles which generally direct our judgment upon all questions concerning it. There are two criterions, however, which have frequently been appealed to upon such occasions, the custom-house books and the course of exchange. The custom-house books, I think, it is now generally acknowledged, are a very uncertain criterion, on account of the inaccuracy of the valuation at which the greater part of goods are rated in them. The course of exchange is, perhaps, almost equally so.
When the exchange between two places, such as London and Paris, is at par, it is said to be a sign that the debts due from London to Paris are compensated by those due from Paris to London. On the contrary, when a premium is paid at London for a bill upon Paris, it is said to be a sign that the debts due from London to Paris are not compensated by those due from Paris to London, but that a balance in money must be sent out from the latter place; for the risk, trouble, and expense, of exporting which, the premium is both demanded and given. But the ordinary state of debt and credit between those two cities must necessarily be regulated, it is said, by the ordinary course of their dealings with one another. When neither of them imports from from other to a greater amount than it exports to that other, the debts and credits of each may compensate one another. But when one of them imports from the other to a greater value than it exports to that other, the former necessarily becomes indebted to the latter in a greater sum than the latter becomes indebted to it: the debts and credits of each do not compensate one another, and money must be sent out from that place of which the debts overbalance the credits. The ordinary course of exchange, therefore, being an indication of the ordinary state of debt and credit between two places, must likewise be an indication of the ordinary course of their exports and imports, as these necessarily regulate that state.
But though the ordinary course of exchange shall be allowed to be a sufficient indication of the ordinary state of debt and credit between any two places, it would not from thence follow, that the balance of trade was in favour of that place which had the ordinary state of debt and credit in its favour. The ordinary state of debt and credit between any two places is not always entirely regulated by the ordinary course of their dealings with one another, but is often influenced by that of the dealings of either with many other places. If it is usual, for example, for the merchants of England to pay for the goods which they buy of Hamburg, Dantzic, Riga, etc. by bills upon Holland, the ordinary state of debt and credit between England and Holland will not be regulated entirely by the ordinary course of the dealings of those two countries with one another, but will be influenced by that of the dealings in England with those other places. England may be obliged to send out every year money to Holland, though its annual exports to that country may exceed very much the annual value of its imports from thence, and though what is called the balance of trade may be very much in favour of England.
In the way, besides, in which the par of exchange has hitherto been computed, the ordinary course of exchange can afford no sufficient indication that the ordinary state of debt and credit is in favour of that country which seems to have, or which is supposed to have, the ordinary course of exchange in its favour; or, in other words, the real exchange may be, and in fact often is, so very different from the computed one, that, from the course of the latter, no certain conclusion can, upon many occasions, be drawn concerning that of the former.
When for a sum or money paid in England, containing, according to the standard of the English mint, a certain number of ounces of pure silver, you receive a bill for a sum of money to be paid in France, containing, according to the standard of the French mint, an equal number of ounces of pure silver, exchange is said to be at par between England and France. When you pay more, you are supposed to give a premium, and exchange is said to be against England, and in favour of France. When you pay less, you are supposed to get a premium, and exchange is said to be against France, and in favour of England.
But, first, We cannot always judge of the value of the current money of different countries by the standard of their respective mints. In some it is more, in others it is less worn, clipt, and otherwise degenerated from that standard. But the value of the current coin of every country, compared with that of any other country, is in proportion, not to the quantity of pure silver which it ought to contain, but to that which it actually does contain. Before the reformation of the silver coin in King William’s time, exchange between England and Holland, computed in the usual manner, according to the standard of their respective mints, was five-and twenty per cent. against England. But the value of the current coin of England, as we learn from Mr Lowndes, was at that time rather more than five-and-twenty per cent. below its standard value. The real exchange, therefore, may even at that time have been in favour of England, notwithstanding the computed exchange was so much against it; a smaller number or ounces of pure silver, actually paid in England, may have purchased a bill for a greater number of ounces of pure silver to be paid in Holland, and the man who was supposed to give, may in reality have got the premium. The French coin was, before the late reformation of the English gold coin, much less wore than the English, and was perhaps two or three per cent. nearer its standard. If the computed exchange with France, therefore, was not more than two or three per cent. against England, the real exchange might have been in its favour. Since the reformation of the gold coin, the exchange has been constantly in favour of England, and against France.
Secondly, In some countries the expense of coinage is defrayed by the government; in others, it is defrayed by the private people, who carry their bullion to the mint, and the government even derives some revenue from the coinage. In England it is defrayed by the government; and if you carry a pound weight of standard silver to the mint, you get back sixty-two shillings, containing a pound weight of the like standard silver. In France a duty of eight per cent. is deducted for the coinage, which not only defrays the expense of it, but affords a small revenue to the government. In England, as the coinage costs nothing, the current coin can never be much more valuable than the quantity of bullion which it actually contains. In France, the workmanship, as you pay for it, adds to the value, in the same manner as to that of wrought plate. A sum of French money, therefore, containing an equal weight of pure silver, is more valuable than a sum of English money containing an equal weight of pure silver, and must require more bullion, or other commodities, to purchase it. Though the current coin of the two countries, therefore, were equally near the standards of their respective mints, a sum of English money could not well purchase a sum of French money containing an equal number of ounces of pure silver, nor, consequently, a bill upon France for such a sum. If, for such a bill, no more additional money was paid than what was sufficient to compensate the expense of the French coinage, the real exchange might be at par between the two countries; their debts and credits might mutually compensate one another, while the computed exchange was considerably in favour of France. If less than this was paid, the real exchange might be in favour of England, while the computed was in favour of France.
English
On the Extraordinary Restraints on the Importation of Goods of Almost Every Kind from Countries with Which the Balance Is Supposed to Be Unfavorable.
Part I—On the Unreasonableness of These Restraints, Even on the Principles of the Commercial System.
To impose extraordinary restraints on imports of almost every kind from particular countries with which the balance of trade is supposed to be unfavorable is the second means by which the commercial system proposes to increase the quantity of gold and silver. Thus, in Great Britain, Silesian lawns may be imported for domestic consumption on payment of certain duties; but French cambrics and lawns may be imported only through the port of London, where they must be warehoused for export. Wines from France bear higher duties than those from Portugal or, indeed, from any other country. Under the so-called impost of 1692, a duty of five and-twenty per cent. of their assessed value was placed on all French goods, while most goods from other nations faced much lighter duties, seldom exceeding five per cent. French wine, brandy, salt, and vinegar were excepted, since these goods were already subject to other heavy duties under other laws or particular clauses of the same law. In 1696, the first duty being thought insufficient to discourage imports, a second duty of twenty-five per cent. was imposed on all French goods except brandy, together with a new duty of five-and-twenty pounds per ton of French wine and another of fifteen pounds per ton of French vinegar. French goods have never been exempted from any of the general subsidies or duties of five per cent. imposed on all or most of the goods listed in the book of rates. Counting the one-third and two-third subsidies together as a complete subsidy, there have been five such general subsidies; before the present war began, therefore, seventy-five per cent. may be regarded as the lowest duty to which most goods grown, produced, or manufactured in France were liable. For most goods, however, those duties amount to prohibition. The French, for their part, have, I believe, treated our goods and manufactures just as severely, though I am less familiar with the particular burdens they have imposed. These mutual restraints have ended almost all open commerce between the two nations; smugglers are now the principal importers both of British goods into France and of French goods into Great Britain. The principles examined in the preceding chapter sprang from private interest and the spirit of monopoly; those I shall examine here spring from national prejudice and hostility. As might be expected, they are still more unreasonable. They are unreasonable even on the commercial system’s own principles.
First, even if it were certain that free trade between France and England, for example, would leave the balance in France’s favor, it would not follow that this trade would harm England, or turn the overall balance of its trade further against it. If French wines are better and cheaper than Portuguese wines, or French linens than German linens, it would be more advantageous for Great Britain to buy from France both the wine and the foreign linen it needs than to buy them from Portugal and Germany. Although the value of annual imports from France would greatly increase, the value of all annual imports would fall in proportion as French goods of the same quality cost less than those of the other two countries. This would hold even if all the French goods imported were consumed in Great Britain.
But, secondly, a large part of them might be re-exported to other countries and sold at a profit, bringing back a return perhaps equal in value to the original cost of all the French goods imported. What has often been said of the East India trade might also be true of the French trade: although most East India goods were bought with gold and silver, re-exporting part of them to other countries brought back to the trading country more gold and silver than the original cost of the whole. One of the most important branches of Dutch trade today is carrying French goods to other European countries. Even some of the French wine drunk in Great Britain is secretly imported from Holland and Zealand. If trade between France and England were free, or if French goods could be imported at the same duties as goods from other European countries, with those duties refunded on export, England might share in a trade that has proved so advantageous to Holland.
Thirdly and lastly, there is no reliable measure by which to determine which side holds what is called the balance between any two countries, or which exports the greater value. National prejudice and hostility, continually spurred by the private interest of particular traders, generally govern our judgment on every question about it. Two measures are often cited on such occasions: customs-house records and the exchange rate. The customs-house records are now, I think, generally acknowledged to be a very uncertain measure because the assessed values of most goods in them are inaccurate. The exchange rate is perhaps almost as uncertain.
When the exchange between two places, such as London and Paris, stands at par, it is said to show that the debts London owes Paris are offset by the debts Paris owes London. When, on the other hand, a premium is paid in London for a bill payable in Paris, it is said to show that London’s debts to Paris are not offset by Paris’s debts to London, and that money must be sent out from London to settle the balance; the premium is both asked and paid to cover the risk, trouble, and cost of sending it. The usual state of debts and credits between the cities must, it is said, be governed by their usual dealings with one another. When neither imports from the other to a greater value than it exports to that other, each city’s debts and credits may offset each other. But when one imports more from the other than it exports to it, the former necessarily owes the latter a greater sum than the latter owes it: the debts and credits no longer offset each other, and money must be sent out from the place whose debts exceed its credits. The usual exchange rate, therefore, as an indication of the usual state of debts and credits between two places, must also indicate the usual course of their exports and imports, since these necessarily govern that state.
Yet even if the usual exchange rate is accepted as a sufficient indication of the usual state of debts and credits between two places, it does not follow that the balance of trade favors the place whose debts and credits usually stand in its favor. The usual state of debts and credits between two places is not always governed entirely by their dealings with each other: it is often affected by the dealings of either with many other places. If, for example, English merchants usually pay for goods bought from Hamburg, Dantzic, Riga, etc. with bills drawn on Holland, the usual state of debts and credits between England and Holland will reflect not only those two countries’ dealings with each other but also England’s dealings with those other places. England may have to send money to Holland every year even though the annual value of its exports to Holland greatly exceeds that of its imports from there, and even though what is called the balance of trade is heavily in England’s favor.
Besides, given the way the par of exchange has been calculated up to now, the usual exchange rate cannot reliably indicate that the usual state of debts and credits favors the country which appears, or is supposed, to have the exchange rate in its favor. In other words, the real exchange rate may be, and often is, so different from the calculated rate that the latter often permits no certain conclusion about the former.
When a sum of money paid in England contains, by the standard of the English mint, a certain number of ounces of pure silver, and buys a bill for a sum payable in France containing, by the standard of the French mint, an equal number of ounces of pure silver, exchange between England and France is said to be at par. If you pay more, you are supposed to pay a premium, and exchange is said to be against England and in favor of France. If you pay less, you are supposed to receive a premium, and exchange is said to be against France and in favor of England.
But first, the standards of their respective mints do not always tell us the value of the coins in circulation in different countries. In some countries coins are more worn, clipped, or otherwise degraded below that standard; in others, less. The value of one country’s circulating coins compared with another’s is proportional not to the pure silver they ought to contain but to what they actually contain. Before the reform of the silver coinage in King William’s time, exchange between England and Holland, calculated in the usual way by their respective mint standards, stood five-and twenty per cent. against England. But, as we learn from Mr Lowndes, the circulating English coin was then rather more than five-and-twenty per cent. below its standard value. The real exchange, therefore, may even then have favored England despite the calculated exchange being so heavily against it: fewer ounces of pure silver actually paid in England might have bought a bill for more ounces of pure silver payable in Holland, so that the man thought to pay a premium might in fact have received one. Before the recent reform of the English gold coinage, French coin was much less worn than English coin, and was perhaps two or three per cent. nearer its standard. If the calculated exchange with France was no more than two or three per cent. against England, therefore, the real exchange might have been in England’s favor. Since the reform of the gold coinage, exchange has constantly favored England against France.
Secondly, in some countries the government pays for coinage; in others, private people who bring bullion to the mint pay for it, and the government even receives some revenue from coinage. In England the government bears the cost: bring a pound weight of standard silver to the mint and you receive sixty-two shillings containing a pound weight of silver of the same standard. In France a duty of eight per cent. is deducted for coinage, covering its cost and providing a small revenue to the government. Because coinage costs the holder nothing in England, circulating coin there can never be worth much more than the bullion it actually contains. In France, the workmanship, which the holder pays for, adds to its value just as it adds to the value of worked silver plate. A sum in French coin containing a given weight of pure silver is therefore worth more than a sum in English coin containing the same weight, and requires more bullion or other goods to buy it. Even if the circulating coins of both countries were equally close to their respective mint standards, then, a sum of English money could hardly buy a sum of French money containing an equal number of ounces of pure silver, or a bill on France for that sum. If the extra money paid for such a bill did no more than cover the cost of French coinage, the real exchange might be at par between the countries, with their debts and credits offsetting one another, while the calculated exchange stood considerably in France’s favor. If less than this was paid, the real exchange might favor England while the calculated exchange favored France.
Book IV, Chapter III, 2
18th-century English
Thirdly, and lastly, In some places, as at Amsterdam, Hamburg, Venice, etc. foreign bills of exchange are paid in what they call bank money; while in others, as at London, Lisbon, Antwerp, Leghorn, etc. they are paid in the common currency of the country. What is called bank money, is always of more value than the same nominal sum of common currency. A thousand guilders in the bank of Amsterdam, for example, are of more value than a thousand guilders of Amsterdam currency. The difference between them is called the agio of the bank, which at Amsterdam is generally about five per cent. Supposing the current money of the two countries equally near to the standard of their respective mints, and that the one pays foreign bills in this common currency, while the other pays them in bank money, it is evident that the computed exchange may be in favour of that which pays in bank money, though the real exchange should be in favour of that which pays in current money; for the same reason that the computed exchange may be in favour of that which pays in better money, or in money nearer to its own standard, though the real exchange should be in favour of that which pays in worse. The computed exchange, before the late reformation of the gold coin, was generally against London with Amsterdam, Hamburg, Venice, and, I believe, with all other places which pay in what is called bank money. It will by no means follow, however, that the real exchange was against it. Since the reformation of the gold coin, it has been in favour of London, even with those places. The computed exchange has generally been in favour of London with Lisbon, Antwerp, Leghorn, and, if you except France, I believe with most other parts of Europe that pay in common currency; and it is not improbable that the real exchange was so too.
Digression concerning Banks of Deposit, particularly concerning that of Amsterdam.
The currency of a great state, such as France or England, generally consists almost entirely of its own coin. Should this currency, therefore, be at any time worn, clipt, or otherwise degraded below its standard value, the state, by a reformation of its coin, can effectually re-establish its currency. But the currency of a small state, such as Genoa or Hamburg, can seldom consist altogether in its own coin, but must be made up, in a great measure, of the coins of all the neighbouring states with which its inhabitants have a continual intercourse. Such a state, therefore, by reforming its coin, will not always be able to reform its currency. If foreign bills of exchange are paid in this currency, the uncertain value of any sum, of what is in its own nature so uncertain, must render the exchange always very much against such a state, its currency being in all foreign states necessarily valued even below what it is worth.
In order to remedy the inconvenience to which this disadvantageous exchange must have subjected their merchants, such small states, when they began to attend to the interest of trade, have frequently enacted that foreign bills of exchange of a certain value should be paid, not in common currency, but by an order upon, or by a transfer in the books of a certain bank, established upon the credit, and under the protection of the state, this bank being always obliged to pay, in good and true money, exactly according to the standard of the state. The banks of Venice, Genoa, Amsterdam, Hamburg, and Nuremberg, seem to have been all originally established with this view, though some of them may have afterwards been made subservient to other purposes. The money of such banks, being better than the common currency of the country, necessarily bore an agio, which was greater or smaller, according as the currency was supposed to be more or less degraded below the standard of the state. The agio of the bank of Hamburg, for example, which is said to be commonly about fourteen per cent. is the supposed difference between the good standard money of the state, and the clipt, worn, and diminished currency, poured into it from all the neighbouring states.
Before 1609, the great quantity of clipt and worn foreign coin which the extensive trade of Amsterdam brought from all parts of Europe, reduced the value of its currency about nine per cent. below that of good money fresh from the mint. Such money no sooner appeared, than it was melted down or carried away, as it always is in such circumstances. The merchants, with plenty of currency, could not always find a sufficient quantity of good money to pay their bills of exchange; and the value of those bills, in spite of several regulations which were made to prevent it, became in a great measure uncertain.
In order to remedy these inconveniencies, a bank was established in 1609, under the guarantee of the city. This bank received both foreign coin, and the light and worn coin of the country, at its real intrinsic value in the good standard money of the country, deducting only so much as was necessary for defraying the expense of coinage and the other necessary expense of management. For the value which remained after this small deduction was made, it gave a credit in its books. This credit was called bank money, which, as it represented money exactly according to the standard of the mint, was always of the same real value, and intrinsically worth more than current money. It was at the same time enacted, that all bills drawn upon or negotiated at Amsterdam, of the value of 600 guilders and upwards, should be paid in bank money, which at once took away all uncertainty in the value of those bills. Every merchant, in consequence of this regulation, was obliged to keep an account with the bank, in order to pay his foreign bills of exchange, which necessarily occasioned a certain demand for bank money.
Bank money, over and above both its intrinsic superiority to currency, and the additional value which this demand necessarily gives it, has likewise some other advantages, It is secure from fire, robbery, and other accidents; the city of Amsterdam is bound for it; it can be paid away by a simple transfer, without the trouble of counting, or the risk of transporting it from one place to another. In consequence of those different advantages, it seems from the beginning to have borne an agio; and it is generally believed that all the money originally deposited in the bank, was allowed to remain there, nobody caring to demand payment of a debt which he could sell for a premium in the market. By demanding payment of the bank, the owner of a bank credit would lose this premium. As a shilling fresh from the mint will buy no more goods in the market than one of our common worn shillings, so the good and true money which might be brought from the coffers of the bank into those of a private person, being mixed and confounded with the common currency of the country, would be of no more value than that currency, from which it could no longer be readily distinguished. While it remained in the coffers of the bank, its superiority was known and ascertained. When it had come into those of a private person, its superiority could not well be ascertained without more trouble than perhaps the difference was worth. By being brought from the coffers of the bank, besides, it lost all the other advantages of bank money; its security, its easy and safe transferability, its use in paying foreign bills of exchange. Over and above all this, it could not be brought from those coffers, as will appear by and by, without previously paying for the keeping.
Those deposits of coin, or those deposits which the bank was bound to restore in coin, constituted the original capital of the bank, or the whole value of what was represented by what is called bank money. At present they are supposed to constitute but a very small part of it. In order to facilitate the trade in bullion, the bank has been for these many years in the practice of giving credit in its books, upon deposits of gold and silver bullion. This credit is generally about five per cent. below the mint price of such bullion. The bank grants at the same time what is called a recipice or receipt, entitling the person who makes the deposit, or the bearer, to take out the bullion again at any time within six months, upon transferring to the bank a quantity of bank money equal to that for which credit had been given in its books when the deposit was made, and upon paying one-fourth per cent. for the keeping, if the deposit was in silver; and one-half per cent. if it was in gold; but at the same time declaring, that in default of such payment, and upon the expiration of this term, the deposit should belong to the bank, at the price at which it had been received, or for which credit had been given in the transfer books. What is thus paid for the keeping of the deposit may be considered as a sort of warehouse rent; and why this warehouse rent should be so much dearer for gold than for silver, several different reasons have been assigned. The fineness of gold, it has been said, is more difficult to be ascertained than that of silver. Frauds are more easily practised, and occasion a greater loss in the most precious metal. Silver, besides, being the standard metal, the state, it has been said, wishes to encourage more the making of deposits of silver than those of gold.
Deposits of bullion are most commonly made when the price is somewhat lower than ordinary, and they are taken out again when it happens to rise. In Holland the market price of bullion is generally above the mint price, for the same reason that it was so in England before the late reformation of the gold coin. The difference is said to be commonly from about six to sixteen stivers upon the mark, or eight ounces of silver, of eleven parts of fine and one part alloy. The bank price, or the credit which the bank gives for the deposits of such silver (when made in foreign coin, of which the fineness is well known and ascertained, such as Mexico dollars), is twenty-two guilders the mark: the mint price is about twenty-three guilders, and the market price is from twenty-three guilders six, to twenty-three guilders sixteen stivers, or from two to three per cent. above the mint price.
The following are the prices at which the bank of Amsterdam at present {September 1775} receives bullion and coin of different kinds:
SILVER Mexico dollars................. 22 Guilders / mark French crowns.................. 22 English silver coin............. 22 Mexico dollars, new coin........ 21 10 Ducatoons....................... 3 0 Rix-dollars..................... 2 8
Bar silver, containing 11-12ths fine silver, 21 Guilders / mark, and in this proportion down to 1-4th fine, on which 5 guilders are given. Fine bars,................. 28 Guilders / mark.
GOLD Portugal coin................. 310 Guilders / mark Guineas....................... 310 Louis d’ors, new.............. 310 Ditto old.............. 300 New ducats.................... 4 19 8 per ducat
Bar or ingot gold is received in proportion to its fineness, compared with the above foreign gold coin. Upon fine bars the bank gives 340 per mark. In general, however, something more is given upon coin of a known fineness, than upon gold and silver bars, of which the fineness cannot be ascertained but by a process of melting and assaying.
The proportions between the bank price, the mint price, and the market price of gold bullion, are nearly the same. A person can generally sell his receipt for the difference between the mint price of bullion and the market price. A receipt for bullion is almost always worth something, and it very seldom happens, therefore, that anybody suffers his receipts to expire, or allows his bullion to fall to the bank at the price at which it had been received, either by not taking it out before the end of the six months, or by neglecting to pay one fourth or one half per cent. in order to obtain a new receipt for another six months. This, however, though it happens seldom, is said to happen sometimes, and more frequently with regard to gold than with regard to silver, on account of the higher warehouse rent which is paid for the keeping of the more precious metal.
The person who, by making a deposit of bullion, obtains both a bank credit and a receipt, pays his bills of exchange as they become due, with his bank credit; and either sells or keeps his receipt, according as he judges that the price of bullion is likely to rise or to fall. The receipt and the bank credit seldom keep long together, and there is no occasion that they should. The person who has a receipt, and who wants to take out bullion, finds always plenty of bank credits, or bank money, to buy at the ordinary price, and the person who has bank money, and wants to take out bullion, finds receipts always in equal abundance.
English
Third and last, in some places, such as Amsterdam, Hamburg, and Venice, foreign bills of exchange are paid in what is called bank money; in others, such as London, Lisbon, Antwerp, and Leghorn, they are paid in the country's ordinary currency. Bank money is always worth more than the same nominal sum in ordinary currency. A thousand guilders in the bank of Amsterdam, for example, are worth more than a thousand guilders in Amsterdam currency. The difference is called the bank's agio, which at Amsterdam is generally about five per cent. Suppose the circulating money of two countries is equally close to the standard of each country's mint, but one country pays foreign bills in ordinary currency and the other in bank money. Plainly, the calculated exchange may favor the country paying in bank money even when the real exchange favors the one paying in circulating money. This is the same reason that the calculated exchange may favor a country paying in better money, or money nearer its own standard, even when the real exchange favors one paying in worse money. Before the recent reform of the gold coin, the calculated exchange was generally against London in dealings with Amsterdam, Hamburg, Venice, and, I believe, every other place paying in what is called bank money. It by no means follows, however, that the real exchange was against London. Since the reform of the gold coin, it has favored London even against those places. The calculated exchange has generally favored London in dealings with Lisbon, Antwerp, Leghorn, and, apart from France, I believe most other parts of Europe paying in ordinary currency; and it is not unlikely that the real exchange favored London too.
A Digression on Banks of Deposit, Particularly the Bank of Amsterdam.
The currency of a large state, such as France or England, generally consists almost wholly of its own coin. If that currency should at some point become worn, clipped, or otherwise debased below its standard value, the state can effectively restore it by reforming its coinage. The currency of a small state, such as Genoa or Hamburg, however, can seldom consist entirely of its own coin. Much of it must consist of coins from all the neighboring states with which its inhabitants continually deal. Reforming its own coin, therefore, will not always enable such a state to reform its currency. If foreign bills of exchange are paid in this currency, the uncertain value of any sum in a medium so uncertain by nature must cause the exchange to be greatly against the state: foreign countries will necessarily value its currency at even less than it is worth.
To remedy the inconvenience this unfavorable exchange must have caused their merchants, such small states, when they began to attend to the interests of trade, have often decreed that foreign bills of exchange above a certain value must be paid not in ordinary currency, but by an order on a particular bank, or a transfer in its books. The bank, established on the credit and under the protection of the state, was always obliged to pay in sound money conforming exactly to the state's standard. The banks of Venice, Genoa, Amsterdam, Hamburg, and Nuremberg all seem originally to have been founded for this purpose, though some may later have served other ends. Since the money in these banks was better than the ordinary currency of the country, it necessarily carried an agio, greater or smaller according to how far the currency was thought to have fallen below the state's standard. The agio of the bank of Hamburg, for example, commonly said to be about fourteen per cent., represents the supposed difference between the state's sound standard money and the clipped, worn, and diminished currency flowing in from all its neighbors.
Before 1609, the great quantity of clipped and worn foreign coin brought to Amsterdam from across Europe by its extensive trade had reduced the value of its currency about nine per cent. below that of sound money fresh from the mint. Whenever such fresh coin appeared, it was immediately melted down or carried off, as it always is in these circumstances. Although merchants had plenty of currency, they could not always find enough sound money to pay their bills of exchange. Despite several regulations intended to prevent this, the value of those bills consequently became largely uncertain.
To remedy these inconveniences, a bank was founded in 1609 under the city's guarantee. It accepted both foreign coin and the country's own light and worn coin at their actual intrinsic value measured in the country's sound standard money, deducting only what was needed to meet the cost of coinage and other necessary costs of administration. For the value remaining after this small deduction, it entered a credit in its books. This credit was called bank money. Because it represented money conforming exactly to the mint standard, it always had the same real value and was intrinsically worth more than circulating money. A rule was enacted at the same time requiring every bill drawn on or negotiated at Amsterdam worth 600 guilders or more to be paid in bank money, removing at once all uncertainty about the value of such bills. As a consequence, every merchant had to keep an account at the bank to pay his foreign bills of exchange, creating a necessary demand for bank money.
Besides its intrinsic superiority to currency and the additional value this demand necessarily confers, bank money has other advantages. It is safe from fire, robbery, and other accidents; the city of Amsterdam stands behind it; and it can be paid by a simple transfer, without the trouble of counting it or the risk of carrying it from place to place. Because of these several advantages, it seems to have carried an agio from the outset. It is generally believed that all the money originally deposited at the bank was left there, since no one cared to demand payment of a claim he could sell at a premium in the market. By demanding payment from the bank, the owner of a bank credit would lose that premium. Just as a shilling fresh from the mint buys no more goods in the market than one of our ordinary worn shillings, the sound money taken from the bank's coffers into a private person's, once mixed indiscriminately with the country's ordinary currency, would be worth no more than that currency, from which it could no longer easily be distinguished. So long as it remained in the bank's coffers, its superiority was known and certain. Once it passed into a private person's, establishing its superiority might take more trouble than the difference was worth. Moreover, removing it from the bank's coffers deprived it of all the other advantages of bank money: its security, its easy and safe transfer, and its use in paying foreign bills of exchange. On top of all this, as will shortly appear, it could not be removed from those coffers without first paying for its storage.
Those deposits of coin, which the bank was bound to return in coin, formed its original capital: the entire value represented by what is called bank money. Today they are believed to form only a very small part of it. To facilitate the bullion trade, the bank has for many years given credits in its books against deposits of gold and silver bullion. The credit is generally about five per cent. below the mint price of that bullion. At the same time the bank issues what is called a recipice, or receipt, entitling the depositor or bearer to withdraw the bullion at any time within six months, provided that the holder transfers to the bank as much bank money as was originally credited for the deposit and pays one-fourth per cent. for storage if the deposit was silver, or one-half per cent. if it was gold. The receipt also declares that if these payments are not made by the end of the term, the deposit becomes the bank's property at the price at which it was received, or for which credit was entered in the transfer books. The payment for storing the deposit may be regarded as a kind of warehouse rent. Several explanations have been offered for why this rent should be so much higher for gold than for silver. It has been said that the purity of gold is harder to establish than that of silver; fraud is easier and causes a greater loss with the more precious metal. It has also been said that, since silver is the standard metal, the state wishes to encourage deposits of silver more than deposits of gold.
Bullion is most commonly deposited when its price is somewhat lower than usual and withdrawn when the price rises. In Holland, the market price of bullion is generally above the mint price, for the same reason that it was in England before the recent reform of the gold coin. The difference is said commonly to range from about six to sixteen stivers per mark, or eight ounces of silver consisting of eleven parts fine silver and one part alloy. The bank price, or the credit the bank gives for deposits of such silver (when deposited as foreign coin of known and established purity, such as Mexico dollars), is twenty-two guilders per mark; the mint price is about twenty-three guilders; and the market price ranges from twenty-three guilders six to twenty-three guilders sixteen stivers, or from two to three per cent. above the mint price.
The following are the prices at which the bank of Amsterdam currently [September 1775] receives bullion and coin of different kinds:
SILVER Mexico dollars................. 22 Guilders / mark French crowns.................. 22 English silver coin............. 22 Mexico dollars, new coin........ 21 10 Ducatoons....................... 3 0 Rix-dollars..................... 2 8
Bar silver containing 11-12ths fine silver, 21 Guilders / mark, declining in proportion to 1-4th fine, for which 5 guilders are given. Fine bars,................. 28 Guilders / mark.
GOLD Portugal coin................. 310 Guilders / mark Guineas....................... 310 Louis d’ors, new.............. 310 Ditto old.............. 300 New ducats.................... 4 19 8 per ducat
Bar or ingot gold is received in proportion to its purity as compared with the foreign gold coins listed above. The bank gives 340 per mark for fine bars. Generally, however, it gives somewhat more for coin of known purity than for bars of gold and silver, whose purity can be established only by melting and assaying them.
The relations among the bank price, the mint price, and the market price of gold bullion are much the same. A person can generally sell a receipt for the difference between the mint price and the market price of bullion. A receipt for bullion is therefore almost always worth something, and it is very rare for anyone to let a receipt expire and his bullion pass to the bank at its deposit price, whether by failing to withdraw it before the six months are over or by failing to pay one fourth or one half per cent. for a new receipt lasting another six months. Yet this is said sometimes to happen, though seldom, and more often with gold than with silver because the warehouse rent for the more precious metal is higher.
A person who deposits bullion and receives both a bank credit and a receipt uses the credit to pay his bills of exchange as they fall due; he either sells or retains the receipt according to whether he expects the price of bullion to fall or rise. The receipt and bank credit seldom remain together long, nor is there any need for them to do so. A holder of a receipt who wishes to withdraw bullion can always find ample bank credits, or bank money, to purchase at the usual price; a holder of bank money wishing to withdraw bullion can likewise always find ample receipts.
Book IV, Chapter III, 3
18th-century English
The owners of bank credits, and the holders of receipts, constitute two different sorts of creditors against the bank. The holder of a receipt cannot draw out the bullion for which it is granted, without re-assigning to the bank a sum of bank money equal to the price at which the bullion had been received. If he has no bank money of his own, he must purchase it of those who have it. The owner of bank money cannot draw out bullion, without producing to the bank receipts for the quantity which he wants. If he has none of his own, he must buy them of those who have them. The holder of a receipt, when he purchases bank money, purchases the power of taking out a quantity of bullion, of which the mint price is five per cent. above the bank price. The agio of five per cent. therefore, which he commonly pays for it, is paid, not for an imaginary, but for a real value. The owner of bank money, when he purchases a receipt, purchases the power of taking out a quantity of bullion, of which the market price is commonly from two to three per cent. above the mint price. The price which he pays for it, therefore, is paid likewise for a real value. The price of the receipt, and the price of the bank money, compound or make up between them the full value or price of the bullion.
Upon deposits of the coin current in the country, the bank grant receipts likewise, as well as bank credits; but those receipts are frequently of no value and will bring no price in the market. Upon ducatoons, for example, which in the currency pass for three guilders three stivers each, the bank gives a credit of three guilders only, or five per cent. below their current value. It grants a receipt likewise, entitling the bearer to take out the number of ducatoons deposited at any time within six months, upon paying one fourth per cent. for the keeping. This receipt will frequently bring no price in the market. Three guilders, bank money, generally sell in the market for three guilders three stivers, the full value of the ducatoons, if they were taken out of the bank; and before they can be taken out, one-fourth per cent. must be paid for the keeping, which would be mere loss to the holder of the receipt. If the agio of the bank, however, should at any time fall to three per cent. such receipts might bring some price in the market, and might sell for one and three-fourths per cent. But the agio of the bank being now generally about five per cent. such receipts are frequently allowed to expire, or, as they express it, to fall to the bank. The receipts which are given for deposits of gold ducats fall to it yet more frequently, because a higher warehouse rent, or one half per cent. must be paid for the keeping of them, before they can be taken out again. The five per cent. which the bank gains, when deposits either of coin or bullion are allowed to fall to it, maybe considered as the warehouse rent for the perpetual keeping of such deposits.
The sum of bank money, for which the receipts are expired, must be very considerable. It must comprehend the whole original capital of the bank, which, it is generally supposed, has been allowed to remain there from the time it was first deposited, nobody caring either to renew his receipt, or to take out his deposit, as, for the reasons already assigned, neither the one nor the other could be done without loss. But whatever may be the amount of this sum, the proportion which it bears to the whole mass of bank money is supposed to be very small. The bank of Amsterdam has, for these many years past, been the great warehouse of Europe for bullion, for which the receipts are very seldom allowed to expire, or, as they express it, to fall to the bank. The far greater part of the bank money, or of the credits upon the books of the bank, is supposed to have been created, for these many years past, by such deposits, which the dealers in bullion are continually both making and withdrawing.
No demand can be made upon the bank, but by means of a recipice or receipt. The smaller mass of bank money, for which the receipts are expired, is mixed and confounded with the much greater mass for which they are still in force; so that, though there may be a considerable sum of bank money, for which there are no receipts, there is no specific sum or portion of it which may not at any time be demanded by one. The bank cannot be debtor to two persons for the same thing; and the owner of bank money who has no receipt, cannot demand payment of the bank till he buys one. In ordinary and quiet times, he can find no difficulty in getting one to buy at the market price, which generally corresponds with the price at which he can sell the coin or bullion it entitles him to take out of the bank.
It might be otherwise during a public calamity; an invasion, for example, such as that of the French in 1672. The owners of bank money being then all eager to draw it out of the bank, in order to have it in their own keeping, the demand for receipts might raise their price to an exorbitant height. The holders of them might form extravagant expectations, and, instead of two or three per cent. demand half the bank money for which credit had been given upon the deposits that the receipts had respectively been granted for. The enemy, informed of the constitution of the bank, might even buy them up, in order to prevent the carrying away of the treasure. In such emergencies, the bank, it is supposed, would break through its ordinary rule of making payment only to the holders of receipts. The holders of receipts, who had no bank money, must have received within two or three per cent. of the value of the deposit for which their respective receipts had been granted. The bank, therefore, it is said, would in this case make no scruple of paying, either with money or bullion, the full value of what the owners of bank money, who could get no receipts, were credited for in its books; paying, at the same time, two or three per cent. to such holders of receipts as had no bank money, that being the whole value which, in this state of things, could justly be supposed due to them.
Even in ordinary and quiet times, it is the interest of the holders of receipts to depress the agio, in order either to buy bank money (and consequently the bullion which their receipts would then enable them to take out of the bank ) so much cheaper, or to sell their receipts to those who have bank money, and who want to take out bullion, so much dearer; the price of a receipt being generally equal to the difference between the market price of bank money and that of the coin or bullion for which the receipt had been granted. It is the interest of the owners of bank money, on the contrary, to raise the agio, in order either to sell their bank money so much dearer, or to buy a receipt so much cheaper. To prevent the stock-jobbing tricks which those opposite interests might sometimes occasion, the bank has of late years come to the resolution, to sell at all times bank money for currency at five per cent. agio, and to buy it in again at four per cent. agio. In consequence of this resolution, the agio can never either rise above five, or sink below four per cent.; and the proportion between the market price of bank and that of current money is kept at all times very near the proportion between their intrinsic values. Before this resolution was taken, the market price of bank money used sometimes to rise so high as nine per cent. agio, and sometimes to sink so low as par, according as opposite interests happened to influence the market.
The bank of Amsterdam professes to lend out no part of what is deposited with it, but for every guilder for which it gives credit in its books, to keep in its repositories the value of a guilder either in money or bullion. That it keeps in its repositories all the money or bullion for which there are receipts in force for which it is at all times liable to be called upon, and which in reality is continually going from it, and returning to it again, cannot well be doubted. But whether it does so likewise with regard to that part of its capital for which the receipts are long ago expired, for which, in ordinary and quiet times, it cannot be called upon, and which, in reality, is very likely to remain with it for ever, or as long as the states of the United Provinces subsist, may perhaps appear more uncertain. At Amsterdam, however, no point of faith is better established than that, for every guilder circulated as bank money, there is a correspondent guilder in gold or silver to be found in the treasures of the bank. The city is guarantee that it should be so. The bank is under the direction of the four reigning burgomasters who are changed every year. Each new set of burgomasters visits the treasure, compares it with the books, receives it upon oath, and delivers it over, with the same awful solemnity to the set which succeeds; and in that sober and religious country, oaths are not yet disregarded. A rotation of this kind seems alone a sufficient security against any practices which cannot be avowed. Amidst all the revolutions which faction has ever occasioned in the government of Amsterdam, the prevailing party has at no time accused their predecessors of infidelity in the administration of the bank. No accusation could have affected more deeply the reputation and fortune of the disgraced party; and if such an accusation could have been supported, we may be assured that it would have been brought. In 1672, when the French king was at Utrecht, the bank of Amsterdam paid so readily, as left no doubt of the fidelity with which it had observed its engagements. Some of the pieces which were then brought from its repositories, appeared to have been scorched with the fire which happened in the town-house soon after the bank was established. Those pieces, therefore, must have lain there from that time.
What may be the amount of the treasure in the bank, is a question which has long employed the speculations of the curious. Nothing but conjecture can be offered concerning it. It is generally reckoned, that there are about 2000 people who keep accounts with the bank; and allowing them to have, one with another, the value of £1500 sterling lying upon their respective accounts (a very large allowance), the whole quantity of bank money, and consequently of treasure in the bank, will amount to about £3,000,000 sterling, or, at eleven guilders the pound sterling, 33,000,000 of guilders; a great sum, and sufficient to carry on a very extensive circulation, but vastly below the extravagant ideas which some people have formed of this treasure.
The city of Amsterdam derives a considerable revenue from the bank. Besides what may be called the warehouse rent above mentioned, each person, upon first opening an account with the bank, pays a fee of ten guilders; and for every new account, three guilders three stivers; for every transfer, two stivers; and if the transfer is for less than 300 guilders, six stivers, in order to discourage the multiplicity of small transactions. The person who neglects to balance his account twice in the year, forfeits twenty-five guilders. The person who orders a transfer for more than is upon his account, is obliged to pay three per cent. for the sum overdrawn, and his order is set aside into the bargain. The bank is supposed, too, to make a considerable profit by the sale of the foreign coin or bullion which sometimes falls to it by the expiring of receipts, and which is always kept till it can be sold with advantage. It makes a profit, likewise, by selling bank money at five per cent. agio, and buying it in at four. These different emoluments amount to a good deal more than what is necessary for paying the salaries of officers, and defraying the expense of management. What is paid for the keeping of bullion upon receipts, is alone supposed to amount to a neat annual revenue of between 150,000 and 200,000 guilders. Public utility, however, and not revenue, was the original object of this institution. Its object was to relieve the merchants from the inconvenience of a disadvantageous exchange. The revenue which has arisen from it was unforeseen, and may be considered as accidental. But it is now time to return from this long digression, into which I have been insensibly led, in endeavouring to explain the reasons why the exchange between the countries which pay in what is called bank money, and those which pay in common currency, should generally appear to be in favour of the former, and against the latter. The former pay in a species of money, of which the intrinsic value is always the same, and exactly agreeable to the standard of their respective mints; the latter is a species of money, of which the intrinsic value is continually varying, and is almost always more or less below that standard.
English
The owners of bank credits and the holders of receipts are two distinct classes of creditors of the bank. The holder of a receipt cannot withdraw the bullion it covers without transferring back to the bank a sum of bank money equal to the price at which the bullion was deposited. If he has no bank money of his own, he must buy it from someone who does. The owner of bank money cannot withdraw bullion without presenting the bank with receipts covering the quantity he wants. If he has no receipts of his own, he must buy them from someone who does. When the holder of a receipt buys bank money, he buys the power to withdraw bullion whose mint price stands five per cent. above its bank price. Thus the five per cent. agio he commonly pays is paid not for an imaginary value but for a real one. When the owner of bank money buys a receipt, he buys the power to withdraw bullion whose market price is commonly from two to three per cent. above its mint price. The price he pays is likewise paid for a real value. Together the price of the receipt and the price of the bank money make up the bullion's full value or price.
The bank also issues receipts, as well as bank credits, against deposits of coin circulating in the country; but those receipts are frequently worthless and fetch nothing in the market. For ducatoons, for example, which circulate at three guilders three stivers apiece, the bank grants a credit of only three guilders, or five per cent. below their circulating value. It also issues a receipt entitling the bearer to withdraw the number of ducatoons deposited at any point within six months, on payment of one fourth per cent. for storage. This receipt will often fetch nothing in the market. Three guilders in bank money generally sell there for three guilders three stivers, the full value of the ducatoons if withdrawn from the bank; and withdrawal requires a further one-fourth per cent. for storage, an outright loss to the receipt's holder. If the bank's agio should ever fall to three per cent., however, such receipts might fetch a price, and might sell for one and three-fourths per cent. But since the bank's agio is now generally about five per cent., these receipts are frequently allowed to expire, or, as the expression goes, to fall to the bank. Receipts for deposits of gold ducats fall to it still more frequently, because their withdrawal requires the higher warehouse rent of one half per cent. The five per cent. the bank gains when deposits of coin or bullion fall to it may be regarded as warehouse rent for keeping those deposits forever.
The amount of bank money whose receipts have expired must be considerable. It must include all the bank's original capital, which is generally believed to have remained there ever since its first deposit: nobody cared either to renew a receipt or to withdraw a deposit, since, for the reasons already given, either action would entail a loss. Whatever the amount, however, its share of the whole stock of bank money is thought to be very small. For many years the bank of Amsterdam has served as Europe's great warehouse for bullion, and receipts for this bullion are very rarely allowed to expire, or, as they say, to fall to the bank. By far the greater part of bank money, or credits in the bank's books, is thought to have been created for many years by deposits of this kind, which bullion dealers continually make and withdraw.
No claim for payment can be made on the bank except through a recipice or receipt. The smaller body of bank money whose receipts have expired is mingled indistinguishably with the much larger body whose receipts remain valid. Thus, though there may be a considerable sum of bank money for which no receipts exist, no particular sum or part of it is beyond demand by means of a receipt at any time. The bank cannot owe the same thing to two people; and an owner of bank money without a receipt cannot demand payment until he buys one. In ordinary, peaceful times he will have no difficulty buying one at its market price, which generally corresponds to the price at which he can sell the coin or bullion it allows him to withdraw.
Things might be different in a public calamity, such as an invasion like that of the French in 1672. If the owners of bank money all became eager to withdraw it and keep it themselves, demand for receipts might drive their price to an exorbitant level. Their holders might form extravagant expectations and demand, instead of two or three per cent., half the bank money credited for the deposits against which their receipts had been issued. An enemy who knew how the bank was organized might even buy up receipts to prevent the treasure from being carried away. In such emergencies, it is believed, the bank would set aside its ordinary rule of paying only holders of receipts. Holders of receipts without bank money must already have received all but two or three per cent. of the value of the deposits covered by their receipts. The bank, it is therefore said, would have no hesitation in paying the owners of bank money who could obtain no receipts the full value of their book credits, whether in coin or bullion; it would at the same time pay two or three per cent. to holders of receipts without bank money, since that is the entire value that could justly be considered owing to them under these circumstances.
Even in ordinary, peaceful times, holders of receipts have an interest in depressing the agio. They could then buy bank money—and with it withdraw the bullion their receipts entitle them to—more cheaply, or sell their receipts more dearly to owners of bank money who want to withdraw bullion. The price of a receipt generally equals the difference between the market price of bank money and that of the coin or bullion it covers. Owners of bank money, by contrast, have an interest in raising the agio so they can sell their bank money more dearly or buy a receipt more cheaply. To prevent the speculative tricks these opposing interests might sometimes produce, the bank has in recent years decided always to sell bank money for currency at an agio of five per cent. and to buy it back at an agio of four per cent. As a result, the agio can neither rise above five nor fall below four per cent.; and the relation between the market price of bank money and that of circulating money remains very close to the relation between their intrinsic values. Before this decision, the market price of bank money sometimes rose to an agio as high as nine per cent. and sometimes fell as low as par, depending on which interest prevailed in the market.
The bank of Amsterdam declares that it lends out none of its deposits and that for every guilder it credits in its books it keeps the value of a guilder in its vaults, whether in coin or bullion. There is little reason to doubt that its vaults contain all the coin or bullion covered by valid receipts, for which it can be called upon at any time and which is continually being withdrawn and deposited again. It is perhaps less certain whether it does the same with the part of its capital whose receipts expired long ago, for which no demand can be made in ordinary, peaceful times, and which is in fact likely to stay with it forever, or as long as the states of the United Provinces endure. Yet in Amsterdam there is no article of faith more firmly held than this: for every guilder circulating as bank money, a corresponding guilder in gold or silver can be found among the bank's treasures. The city guarantees that this is so. The bank is directed by the four serving burgomasters, who change every year. Each new group visits the treasure, compares it with the books, accepts it under oath, and hands it over with the same solemn gravity to its successors; and in that sober and religious country, oaths have not yet lost their force. Such a rotation seems by itself sufficient protection against practices that could not be openly acknowledged. Through all the revolutions faction has brought about in Amsterdam's government, the victorious party has never accused its predecessors of dishonesty in administering the bank. No charge could have struck more deeply at the reputation and fortunes of a disgraced party; and we may be sure that, had the charge been supportable, it would have been made. In 1672, when the French king reached Utrecht, the bank of Amsterdam paid so promptly that there could be no doubt it had faithfully met its obligations. Some coins then taken from its vaults showed scorching from the fire that had occurred in the town hall soon after the bank was founded. Those coins must therefore have lain there since that time.
The amount of treasure held by the bank has long occupied curious minds. Nothing more than conjecture can be offered. It is generally calculated that about 2000 people have accounts at the bank. If each has, on average, the value of £1500 sterling in his account—a very generous allowance—the total bank money, and therefore the treasure in the bank, comes to about £3,000,000 sterling, or, at eleven guilders to the pound sterling, 33,000,000 guilders. This is a great sum, enough to support a very extensive circulation, but far below the extravagant estimates some have made of this treasure.
The city of Amsterdam earns considerable revenue from the bank. Besides the warehouse rent already mentioned, a person pays ten guilders when first opening an account, three guilders three stivers for every new account, and two stivers for each transfer. If the transfer is for less than 300 guilders, the charge is six stivers, to discourage a multitude of small transactions. Anyone who fails to balance his account twice a year forfeits twenty-five guilders. Anyone ordering a transfer larger than his balance must pay three per cent. on the overdrawn amount, and his order is canceled as well. The bank is also believed to make a considerable profit by selling foreign coin or bullion that comes into its possession when receipts expire, which it always holds until it can sell at an advantage. It likewise profits by selling bank money at an agio of five per cent. and buying it back at four. These various receipts amount to considerably more than the salaries of its officers and the costs of administration. The charges for keeping bullion against receipts alone are thought to yield a net annual revenue of between 150,000 and 200,000 guilders. Public utility, however, not revenue, was the institution's original aim. It was intended to spare merchants the inconvenience of an unfavorable exchange. The revenue it has generated was unforeseen and may be regarded as incidental. But it is time to return from this long digression, into which I have been drawn almost without noticing while trying to explain why exchange between countries that pay in what is called bank money and those that pay in ordinary currency should generally seem to favor the former and disadvantage the latter. The former pay in a kind of money whose intrinsic value is always the same and exactly conforms to their respective mint standards; the latter pay in a kind whose intrinsic value continually varies and is almost always somewhat below that standard.
Book IV, Chapter III, 4
18th-century English
PART II.—Of the Unreasonableness of those extraordinary Restraints, upon other Principles.
In the foregoing part of this chapter, I have endeavoured to show, even upon the principles of the commercial system, how unnecessary it is to lay extraordinary restraints upon the importation of goods from those countries with which the balance of trade is supposed to be disadvantageous.
Nothing, however, can be more absurd than this whole doctrine of the balance of trade, upon which, not only these restraints, but almost all the other regulations of commerce, are founded. When two places trade with one another, this doctrine supposes that, if the balance be even, neither of them either loses or gains; but if it leans in any degree to one side, that one of them loses, and the other gains, in proportion to its declension from the exact equilibrium. Both suppositions are false. A trade, which is forced by means of bounties and monopolies, may be, and commonly is, disadvantageous to the country in whose favour it is meant to be established, as I shall endeavour to show hereafter. But that trade which, without force or constraint, is naturally and regularly carried on between any two places, is always advantageous, though not always equally so, to both.
By advantage or gain, I understand, not the increase of the quantity of gold and silver, but that of the exchangeable value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, or the increase of the annual revenue of its inhabitants.
If the balance be even, and if the trade between the two places consist altogether in the exchange of their native commodities, they will, upon most occasions, not only both gain, but they will gain equally, or very nearly equally; each will, in this case, afford a market for a part of the surplus produce of the other; each will replace a capital which had been employed in raising and preparing for the market this part of the surplus produce of the other, and which had been distributed among, and given revenue and maintenance to, a certain number of its inhabitants. Some part of the inhabitants of each, therefore, will directly derive their revenue and maintenance from the other. As the commodities exchanged, too, are supposed to be of equal value, so the two capitals employed in the trade will, upon most occasions, be equal, or very nearly equal; and both being employed in raising the native commodities of the two countries, the revenue and maintenance which their distribution will afford to the inhabitants of each will be equal, or very nearly equal. This revenue and maintenance, thus mutually afforded, will be greater or smaller, in proportion to the extent of their dealings. If these should annually amount to £100,000, for example, or to £1,000,000, on each side, each of them will afford an annual revenue, in the one case, of £100,000, and, in the other, of £1,000,000, to the inhabitants of the other.
If their trade should be of such a nature, that one of them exported to the other nothing but native commodities, while the returns of that other consisted altogether in foreign goods; the balance, in this case, would still be supposed even, commodities being paid for with commodities. They would, in this case too, both gain, but they would not gain equally; and the inhabitants of the country which exported nothing but native commodities, would derive the greatest revenue from the trade. If England, for example, should import from France nothing but the native commodities of that country, and not having such commodities of its own as were in demand there, should annually repay them by sending thither a large quantity of foreign goods, tobacco, we shall suppose, and East India goods; this trade, though it would give some revenue to the inhabitants of both countries, would give more to those of France than to those of England. The whole French capital annually employed in it would annually be distributed among the people of France; but that part of the English capital only, which was employed in producing the English commodities with which those foreign goods were purchased, would be annually distributed among the people of England. The greater part of it would replace the capitals which had been employed in Virginia, Indostan, and China, and which had given revenue and maintenance to the inhabitants of those distant countries. If the capitals were equal, or nearly equal, therefore, this employment of the French capital would augment much more the revenue of the people of France, than that of the English capital would the revenue of the people of England. France would, in this case, carry on a direct foreign trade of consumption with England; whereas England would carry on a round-about trade of the same kind with France. The different effects of a capital employed in the direct, and of one employed in the round-about foreign trade of consumption, have already been fully explained.
There is not, probably, between any two countries, a trade which consists altogether in the exchange, either of native commodities on both sides, or of native commodities on one side, and of foreign goods on the other. Almost all countries exchange with one another, partly native and partly foreign goods. That country, however, in whose cargoes there is the greatest proportion of native, and the least of foreign goods, will always be the principal gainer.
If it was not with tobacco and East India goods, but with gold and silver, that England paid for the commodities annually imported from France, the balance, in this case, would be supposed uneven, commodities not being paid for with commodities, but with gold and silver. The trade, however, would in this case, as in the foregoing, give some revenue to the inhabitants of both countries, but more to those of France than to those of England. It would give some revenue to those of England. The capital which had been employed in producing the English goods that purchased this gold and silver, the capital which had been distributed among, and given revenue to, certain inhabitants of England, would thereby be replaced, and enabled to continue that employment. The whole capital of England would no more be diminished by this exportation of gold and silver, than by the exportation of an equal value of any other goods. On the contrary, it would, in most cases, be augmented. No goods are sent abroad but those for which the demand is supposed to be greater abroad than at home, and of which the returns, consequently, it is expected, will be of more value at home than the commodities exported. If the tobacco which in England is worth only £100,000, when sent to France, will purchase wine which is in England worth £110,000, the exchange will augment the capital of England by £10,000. If £100,000 of English gold, in the same manner, purchase French wine, which in England is worth £110,000, this exchange will equally augment the capital of England by £10,000. As a merchant, who has £110,000 worth of wine in his cellar, is a richer man than he who has only £100,000 worth of tobacco in his warehouse, so is he likewise a richer man than he who has only £100,000 worth of gold in his coffers. He can put into motion a greater quantity of industry, and give revenue, maintenance, and employment, to a greater number of people, than either of the other two. But the capital of the country is equal to the capital of all its different inhabitants; and the quantity of industry which can be annually maintained in it is equal to what all those different capitals can maintain. Both the capital of the country, therefore, and the quantity of industry which can be annually maintained in it, must generally be augmented by this exchange. It would, indeed, be more advantageous for England that it could purchase the wines of France with its own hardware and broad cloth, than with either the tobacco of Virginia, or the gold and silver of Brazil and Peru. A direct foreign trade of consumption is always more advantageous than a round-about one. But a round-about foreign trade of consumption, which is carried on with gold and silver, does not seem to be less advantageous than any other equally round-about one. Neither is a country which has no mines, more likely to be exhausted of gold and silver by this annual exportation of those metals, than one which does not grow tobacco by the like annual exportation of that plant. As a country which has wherewithal to buy tobacco will never be long in want of it, so neither will one be long in want of gold and silver which has wherewithal to purchase those metals.
It is a losing trade, it is said, which a workman carries on with the alehouse; and the trade which a manufacturing nation would naturally carry on with a wine country, may be considered as a trade of the same nature. I answer, that the trade with the alehouse is not necessarily a losing trade. In its own nature it is just as advantageous as any other, though, perhaps, somewhat more liable to be abused. The employment of a brewer, and even that of a retailer of fermented liquors, are as necessary divisions of labour as any other. It will generally be more advantageous for a workman to buy of the brewer the quantity he has occasion for, than to brew it himself; and if he is a poor workman, it will generally be more advantageous for him to buy it by little and little of the retailer, than a large quantity of the brewer. He may no doubt buy too much of either, as he may of any other dealers in his neighbourhood; of the butcher, if he is a glutton; or of the draper, if he affects to be a beau among his companions. It is advantageous to the great body of workmen, notwithstanding, that all these trades should be free, though this freedom may be abused in all of them, and is more likely to be so, perhaps, in some than in others. Though individuals, besides, may sometimes ruin their fortunes by an excessive consumption of fermented liquors, there seems to be no risk that a nation should do so. Though in every country there are many people who spend upon such liquors more than they can afford, there are always many more who spend less. It deserves to be remarked, too, that if we consult experience, the cheapness of wine seems to be a cause, not of drunkenness, but of sobriety. The inhabitants of the wine countries are in general the soberest people of Europe; witness the Spaniards, the Italians, and the inhabitants of the southern provinces of France. People are seldom guilty of excess in what is their daily fare. Nobody affects the character of liberality and good fellowship, by being profuse of a liquor which is as cheap as small beer. On the contrary, in the countries which, either from excessive heat or cold, produce no grapes, and where wine consequently is dear and a rarity, drunkenness is a common vice, as among the northern nations, and all those who live between the tropics, the negroes, for example on the coast of Guinea. When a French regiment comes from some of the northern provinces of France, where wine is somewhat dear, to be quartered in the southern, where it is very cheap, the soldiers, I have frequently heard it observed, are at first debauched by the cheapness and novelty of good wine; but after a few months residence, the greater part of them become as sober as the rest of the inhabitants. Were the duties upon foreign wines, and the excises upon malt, beer, and ale, to be taken away all at once, it might, in the same manner, occasion in Great Britain a pretty general and temporary drunkenness among the middling and inferior ranks of people, which would probably be soon followed by a permanent and almost universal sobriety. At present, drunkenness is by no means the vice of people of fashion, or of those who can easily afford the most expensive liquors. A gentleman drunk with ale has scarce ever been seen among us. The restraints upon the wine trade in Great Britain, besides, do not so much seem calculated to hinder the people from going, if I may say so, to the alehouse, as from going where they can buy the best and cheapest liquor. They favour the wine trade of Portugal, and discourage that of France. The Portuguese, it is said, indeed, are better customers for our manufactures than the French, and should therefore be encouraged in preference to them. As they give us their custom, it is pretended we should give them ours. The sneaking arts of underling tradesmen are thus erected into political maxims for the conduct of a great empire; for it is the most underling tradesmen only who make it a rule to employ chiefly their own customers. A great trader purchases his goods always where they are cheapest and best, without regard to any little interest of this kind.
English
PART II.—The Unreasonableness of These Extraordinary Restraints on Other Principles.
In the preceding part of this chapter, I have tried to show that, even on the principles of the mercantile system, extraordinary restraints on imports from countries with which the balance of trade is thought unfavorable are unnecessary.
Nothing, however, could be more absurd than the entire doctrine of the balance of trade, on which not only these restraints but almost every other regulation of commerce is founded. When two places trade, the doctrine supposes that if their balance is even neither gains nor loses; but if it tips at all to one side, one loses and the other gains in proportion to its departure from perfect equilibrium. Both assumptions are false. Trade forced by bounties and monopolies may be, and commonly is, disadvantageous to the very country it is meant to favor, as I shall try to show later. But trade carried on naturally and regularly between any two places, without force or constraint, always benefits both, though it does not always benefit them equally.
By benefit or gain I do not mean an increase in the quantity of gold and silver, but an increase in the exchangeable value of the annual produce of a country's land and labor, or in the annual revenue of its inhabitants.
If the balance is even and the trade between the two places consists entirely of exchanging goods produced in each, both will, in most circumstances, not only gain but gain equally, or nearly so. Each provides a market for part of the other's surplus produce. Each replaces a capital employed in producing and preparing that portion of the other's surplus for market, a capital distributed among a number of the other's inhabitants and providing them with revenue and support. Some of each country's inhabitants will therefore receive their revenue and support directly from the other. Since the exchanged goods are assumed to have equal value, the two capitals engaged in this trade will generally be equal, or nearly equal. Both are employed in producing the countries' own goods; thus the revenue and support that their distribution provides to the inhabitants of each country will also be equal, or nearly so. The amount each provides to the other will rise or fall with the scale of their dealings. If these amount annually to £100,000, for example, or to £1,000,000 on each side, each country will provide the inhabitants of the other with annual revenue of £100,000 in the first case and £1,000,000 in the second.
Suppose, instead, that one country exports nothing to the other but its own produce, while the other pays entirely in foreign goods. The balance would still be considered even, since goods are paid for with goods. Both countries would gain here too, but unequally: the inhabitants of the country exporting only its own produce would gain the greater revenue from the trade. Suppose, for example, England imports from France only French produce but, having no produce of its own for which France has demand, annually sends a great quantity of foreign goods in payment—tobacco and East India goods, say. Although this trade would provide revenue to people in both countries, it would provide more to those in France than those in England. The entire French capital annually engaged in it would be distributed each year among the people of France. Only the portion of the English capital used to produce the English goods with which those foreign goods were purchased would be distributed among the people of England. Most of the English capital would replace capitals employed in Virginia, Indostan, and China, which had provided revenue and support to the inhabitants of those distant countries. If the capitals were equal or nearly so, therefore, the French capital employed in this way would increase the revenue of the French people much more than the English capital would increase that of the English people. France would conduct a direct foreign trade of consumption with England, whereas England would conduct an indirect trade of the same kind with France. The differing effects of capital employed in direct and indirect foreign trade of consumption have already been fully explained.
There is probably no trade between two countries that consists entirely either of exchanging goods produced in both countries or of exchanging goods produced in one for foreign goods from the other. Almost every country exchanges some goods of its own and some foreign goods with other countries. The country whose shipments contain the greatest proportion of its own goods and the smallest of foreign goods, however, will always be the principal gainer.
Suppose England paid for the goods it annually imports from France not with tobacco and East India goods, but with gold and silver. The balance would then be considered uneven, because goods were paid for not with goods but with gold and silver. Yet here, as in the previous case, the trade would provide some revenue to people in both countries, though more to those in France than to those in England. It would provide some revenue to the English. The capital used to produce the English goods that bought this gold and silver—a capital distributed among certain inhabitants of England and providing them with revenue—would thereby be replaced and enabled to remain in that employment. Exporting gold and silver would no more diminish England's total capital than exporting other goods of equal value. On the contrary, in most cases it would increase it. Goods are sent abroad only when demand for them is thought greater there than at home, and when the proceeds are therefore expected to be worth more at home than the goods exported. If tobacco worth only £100,000 in England can be sent to France and exchanged for wine worth £110,000 in England, the exchange increases English capital by £10,000. If £100,000 in English gold likewise buys French wine worth £110,000 in England, the exchange increases English capital by the same £10,000. A merchant with £110,000 worth of wine in his cellar is richer than one with only £100,000 worth of tobacco in his warehouse; he is equally richer than one with only £100,000 worth of gold in his coffers. He can set more industry in motion and provide revenue, support, and employment to more people than either of the others. But a country's capital is the sum of the capitals of all its inhabitants, and the amount of industry it can support annually is what those individual capitals can together support. Both the country's capital and the amount of industry it can support annually must therefore generally grow through this exchange. It would indeed be more advantageous for England if it could buy French wines with its own hardware and broadcloth than with either Virginia tobacco or the gold and silver of Brazil and Peru. A direct foreign trade of consumption is always more advantageous than an indirect one. But an indirect foreign trade of consumption conducted with gold and silver does not seem less advantageous than any other equally indirect trade. Nor is a country without mines more likely to be drained of gold and silver by annually exporting those metals than a country that grows no tobacco is likely to be drained of tobacco by annually exporting that plant. A country with the means to buy tobacco will never lack it for long; neither will a country with the means to buy gold and silver long lack those metals.
It is said that a worker's dealings with the alehouse are a losing trade, and that the trade a manufacturing nation would naturally conduct with a wine-producing country is of the same kind. I answer that trade with the alehouse is not necessarily a losing trade. In itself it is as advantageous as any other, though perhaps somewhat more liable to abuse. Brewing and even retailing fermented liquor are divisions of labor as necessary as any others. A worker will generally do better to buy the quantity he needs from a brewer than to brew it himself; if he is poor, he will generally do better to buy it a little at a time from a retailer than to buy a large quantity from the brewer. Certainly he may buy too much from either, as he may from any other neighborhood dealer: from the butcher, if he is a glutton, or from the cloth seller, if he affects fashionable elegance among his companions. Still, it benefits the great body of workers that all these trades should be free, even if freedom can be abused in every one of them and perhaps more readily in some than in others. Individuals may sometimes ruin themselves by drinking fermented liquor to excess, but there seems no danger of a nation doing so. In every country many people spend more than they can afford on such drinks, but many more spend less. It is worth observing, too, that experience suggests cheap wine promotes not drunkenness but sobriety. The inhabitants of wine-producing countries are generally the most sober people in Europe: witness the Spaniards, the Italians, and the inhabitants of southern France. People seldom indulge to excess in what they have every day. No one tries to appear generous and sociable by lavishing a drink as cheap as small beer. By contrast, where extreme heat or cold prevents grapes from growing, and wine is therefore expensive and rare, drunkenness is a common vice—as among the northern nations and all those who live between the tropics, for example the Black inhabitants of the Guinea coast. When a French regiment comes from one of France's northern provinces, where wine is somewhat dear, to be quartered in the south, where it is very cheap, the soldiers at first, I have often heard it observed, drink to excess because good wine is cheap and new to them. After a few months' residence, however, most become as sober as the other inhabitants. If the duties on foreign wines and the excise taxes on malt, beer, and ale were all removed at once, Great Britain might similarly experience widespread temporary drunkenness among people of the middle and lower ranks, probably followed soon afterward by lasting and almost universal sobriety. At present, drunkenness is by no means a vice of the fashionable, or of those who can easily afford the most expensive drinks. A gentleman drunk on ale is hardly ever seen among us. Moreover, Britain's restraints on the wine trade seem designed less to keep people, so to speak, out of the alehouse than to keep them away from the place where they can buy the best and cheapest drink. They favor the wine trade of Portugal and discourage that of France. The Portuguese, it is said, are better customers for our manufactures than the French and should therefore be favored over them. Since they buy from us, it is argued, we should buy from them. The petty stratagems of lowly shopkeepers are thus raised to political maxims for governing a great empire; only the humblest shopkeepers make a rule of dealing chiefly with their own customers. A great merchant always buys his goods where they are best and cheapest, without regard to such petty considerations.
Book IV, Chapter III, 5
18th-century English
By such maxims as these, however, nations have been taught that their interest consisted in beggaring all their neighbours. Each nation has been made to look with an invidious eye upon the prosperity of all the nations with which it trades, and to consider their gain as its own loss. Commerce, which ought naturally to be, among nations as among individuals, a bond of union and friendship, has become the most fertile source of discord and animosity. The capricious ambition of kings and ministers has not, during the present and the preceding century, been more fatal to the repose of Europe, than the impertinent jealousy of merchants and manufacturers. The violence and injustice of the rulers of mankind is an ancient evil, for which, I am afraid, the nature of human affairs can scarce admit of a remedy: but the mean rapacity, the monopolizing spirit, of merchants and manufacturers, who neither are, nor ought to be, the rulers of mankind, though it cannot, perhaps, be corrected, may very easily be prevented from disturbing the tranquillity of anybody but themselves.
That it was the spirit of monopoly which originally both invented and propagated this doctrine, cannot be doubted and they who first taught it, were by no means such fools as they who believed it. In every country it always is, and must be, the interest of the great body of the people, to buy whatever they want of those who sell it cheapest. The proposition is so very manifest, that it seems ridiculous to take any pains to prove it; nor could it ever have been called in question, had not the interested sophistry of merchants and manufacturers confounded the common sense of mankind. Their interest is, in this respect, directly opposite to that of the great body of the people. As it is the interest of the freemen of a corporation to hinder the rest of the inhabitants from employing any workmen but themselves; so it is the interest of the merchants and manufacturers of every country to secure to themselves the monopoly of the home market. Hence, in Great Britain, and in most other European countries, the extraordinary duties upon almost all goods imported by alien merchants. Hence the high duties and prohibitions upon all those foreign manufactures which can come into competition with our own. Hence, too, the extraordinary restraints upon the importation of almost all sorts of goods from those countries with which the balance of trade is supposed to be disadvantageous; that is, from those against whom national animosity happens ta be most violently inflamed.
The wealth of neighbouring nations, however, though dangerous in war and politics, is certainly advantageous in trade. In a state of hostility, it may enable our enemies to maintain fleets and armies superior to our own; but in a state of peace and commerce it must likewise enable them to exchange with us to a greater value, and to afford a better market, either for the immediate produce of our own industry, or for whatever is purchased with that produce. As a rich man is likely to be a better customer to the industrious people in his neighbourhood, than a poor, so is likewise a rich nation. A rich man, indeed, who is himself a manufacturer, is a very dangerous neighbour to all those who deal in the same way. All the rest of the neighbourhood, however, by far the greatest number, profit by the good market which his expense affords them. They even profit by his underselling the poorer workmen who deal in the same way with him. The manufacturers of a rich nation, in the same manner, may no doubt be very dangerous rivals to those of their neighbours. This very competition, however, is advantageous to the great body of the people, who profit greatly, besides, by the good market which the great expense of such a nation affords them in every other way. Private people, who want to make a fortune, never think of retiring to the remote and poor provinces of the country, but resort either to the capital, or to some of the great commercial towns. They know, that where little wealth circulates, there is little to be got; but that where a great deal is in motion, some share of it may fall to them. The same maxim which would in this manner direct the common sense of one, or ten, or twenty individuals, should regulate the judgment of one, or ten, or twenty millions, and should make a whole nation regard the riches of its neighbours, as a probable cause and occasion for itself to acquire riches. A nation that would enrich itself by foreign trade, is certainly most likely to do so, when its neighbours are all rich, industrious and commercial nations. A great nation, surrounded on all sides by wandering savages and poor barbarians, might, no doubt, acquire riches by the cultivation of its own lands, and by its own interior commerce, but not by foreign trade. It seems to have been in this manner that the ancient Egyptians and the modern Chinese acquired their great wealth. The ancient Egyptians, it is said, neglected foreign commerce, and the modern Chinese, it is known, hold it in the utmost contempt, and scarce deign to afford it the decent protection of the laws. The modern maxims of foreign commerce, by aiming at the impoverishment of all our neighbours, so far as they are capable of producing their intended effect, tend to render that very commerce insignificant and contemptible.
It is in consequence of these maxims, that the commerce between France and England has, in both countries, been subjected to so many discouragements and restraints. If those two countries, however, were to consider their real interest, without either mercantile jealousy or national animosity, the commerce of France might be more advantageous to Great Britain than that of any other country, and, for the same reason, that of Great Britain to France. France is the nearest neighbour to Great Britain. In the trade between the southern coast of England and the northern and north-western coast of France, the returns might be expected, in the same manner as in the inland trade, four, five, or six times in the year. The capital, therefore, employed in this trade could, in each of the two countries, keep in motion four, five, or six times the quantity of industry, and afford employment and subsistence to four, five, or six times the number of people, which all equal capital could do in the greater part of the other branches of foreign trade. Between the parts of France and Great Britain most remote from one another, the returns might be expected, at least, once in the year; and even this trade would so far be at least equally advantageous, as the greater part of the other branches of our foreign European trade. It would be, at least, three times more advantageous than the boasted trade with our North American colonies, in which the returns were seldom made in less than three years, frequently not in less than four or five years. France, besides, is supposed to contain 24,000,000 of inhabitants. Our North American colonies were never supposed to contain more than 3,000,000; and France is a much richer country than North America; though, on account of the more unequal distribution of riches, there is much more poverty and beggary in the one country than in the other. France, therefore, could afford a market at least eight times more extensive, and, on account of the superior frequency of the returns, four-and-twenty times more advantageous than that which our North American colonies ever afforded. The trade of Great Britain would be just as advantageous to France, and, in proportion to the wealth, population, and proximity of the respective countries, would have the same superiority over that which France carries on with her own colonies. Such is the very great difference between that trade which the wisdom of both nations has thought proper to discourage, and that which it has favoured the most.
But the very same circumstances which would have rendered an open and free commerce between the two countries so advantageous to both, have occasioned the principal obstructions to that commerce. Being neighbours, they are necessarily enemies, and the wealth and power of each becomes, upon that account, more formidable to the other; and what would increase the advantage of national friendship, serves only to inflame the violence of national animosity. They are both rich and industrious nations; and the merchants and manufacturers of each dread the competition of the skill and activity of those of the other. Mercantile jealousy is excited, and both inflames, and is itself inflamed, by the violence of national animosity, and the traders of both countries have announced, with all the passionate confidence of interested falsehood, the certain ruin of each, in consequence of that unfavourable balance of trade, which, they pretend, would be the infallible effect of an unrestrained commerce with the other.
There is no commercial country in Europe, of which the approaching ruin has not frequently been foretold by the pretended doctors of this system, from all unfavourably balance of trade. After all the anxiety, however, which they have excited about this, after all the vain attempts of almost all trading nations to turn that balance in their own favour, and against their neighbours, it does not appear that any one nation in Europe has been, in any respect, impoverished by this cause. Every town and country, on the contrary, in proportion as they have opened their ports to all nations, instead of being ruined by this free trade, as the principles of the commercial system would lead us to expect, have been enriched by it. Though there are in Europe indeed, a few towns which, in same respects, deserve the name of free ports, there is no country which does so. Holland, perhaps, approaches the nearest to this character of any, though still very remote from it; and Holland, it is acknowledged, not only derives its whole wealth, but a great part of its necessary subsistence, from foreign trade.
There is another balance, indeed, which has already been explained, very different from the balance of trade, and which, according as it happens to be either favourable or unfavourable, necessarily occasions the prosperity or decay of every nation. This is the balance of the annual produce and consumption. If the exchangeable value of the annual produce, it has already been observed, exceeds that of the annual consumption, the capital of the society must annually increase in proportion to this excess. The society in this case lives within its revenue; and what is annually saved out of its revenue, is naturally added to its capital, and employed so as to increase still further the annual produce. If the exchangeable value of the annual produce, on the contrary, fall short of the annual consumption, the capital of the society must annually decay in proportion to this deficiency. The expense of the society, in this case, exceeds its revenue, and necessarily encroaches upon its capital. Its capital, therefore, must necessarily decay, and, together with it, the exchangeable value of the annual produce of its industry.
This balance of produce and consumption is entirely different from what is called the balance of trade. It might take place in a nation which had no foreign trade, but which was entirely separated from all the world. It may take place in the whole globe of the earth, of which the wealth, population, and improvement, may be either gradually increasing or gradually decaying.
The balance of produce and consumption may be constantly in favour of a nation, though what is called the balance of trade be generally against it. A nation may import to a greater value than it exports for half a century, perhaps, together; the gold and silver which comes into it during all this time, may be all immediately sent out of it; its circulating coin may gradually decay, different sorts of paper money being substituted in its place, and even the debts, too, which it contracts in the principal nations with whom it deals, may be gradually increasing; and yet its real wealth, the exchangeable value of the annual produce of its lands and labour, may, during the same period, have been increasing in a much greater proportion. The state of our North American colonies, and of the trade which they carried on with Great Britain, before the commencement of the present disturbances, {This paragraph was written in the year 1775.} may serve as a proof that this is by no means an impossible supposition.
English
By maxims such as these, however, nations have been taught to believe that their interest lay in impoverishing all their neighbors. Each nation has been led to view the prosperity of every nation with which it trades with envy, and to regard their gain as its own loss. Commerce, which ought naturally to bind nations together in friendship, as it does individuals, has become the most fertile source of discord and animosity. The capricious ambition of kings and ministers has been no more destructive to the peace of Europe during this century and the last than the presumptuous jealousy of merchants and manufacturers. The violence and injustice of those who rule mankind is an ancient evil for which, I fear, the nature of human affairs scarcely allows a remedy. But the petty rapacity and monopolizing spirit of merchants and manufacturers, who neither are nor ought to be the rulers of mankind, can very easily be kept from disturbing anyone's peace but their own, even if that spirit cannot be cured.
There can be no doubt that the spirit of monopoly first invented and spread this doctrine; and those who first taught it were by no means such fools as those who believed it. In every country it always is, and must be, in the interest of the great body of the people to buy what they want from whoever sells it cheapest. The proposition is so evident that it seems absurd to take pains to prove it; nor could it ever have been questioned if the self-interested sophistry of merchants and manufacturers had not confused the common sense of mankind. In this respect their interest is directly opposed to that of the great body of the people. Just as the freemen of a corporation have an interest in preventing the other inhabitants from hiring any workmen but themselves, the merchants and manufacturers of every country have an interest in securing a monopoly of the home market. Hence, in Great Britain and most other European countries, the extraordinary duties on nearly all goods imported by foreign merchants. Hence the high duties and prohibitions on foreign manufactures that might compete with our own. Hence, too, the extraordinary restraints on the importation of almost every kind of goods from countries with which the balance of trade is supposed to be unfavorable—that is, the countries against which national animosity happens to burn most fiercely.
The wealth of neighboring nations, however, though dangerous in war and politics, is certainly advantageous in trade. In a state of hostility, it may enable our enemies to maintain fleets and armies stronger than ours; but in a state of peace and commerce, it must also enable them to exchange goods of greater value with us and to offer a better market, whether for the direct produce of our own industry or for goods bought with that produce. Just as a rich man is likely to be a better customer to the industrious people in his neighborhood than a poor man, so is a rich nation. A rich man who is himself a manufacturer is, indeed, a dangerous neighbor to others in the same line of business. All the rest of the neighborhood, however—the overwhelming majority—profit from the good market his spending provides. They even profit when he undersells the poorer workmen in his line of business. In the same way, the manufacturers of a rich nation may certainly be dangerous rivals to those of its neighbors. Yet this very competition benefits the great body of the people, who also profit greatly from the good market that the spending of such a nation affords them in every other respect. Individuals seeking a fortune never think of withdrawing to remote and poor provinces, but go instead to the capital or to one of the great commercial towns. They know that where little wealth circulates there is little to be gained, but where a great deal is in motion some share of it may fall to them. The same maxim that guides the common sense of one, or ten, or twenty individuals ought to guide the judgment of one, or ten, or twenty millions, and lead a whole nation to regard its neighbors' riches as a likely opportunity to gain riches itself. A nation seeking to enrich itself through foreign trade is certainly most likely to succeed when its neighbors are all rich, industrious, commercial nations. A great nation surrounded by wandering savages and poor barbarians might undoubtedly grow rich by cultivating its own lands and by its own domestic commerce, but not by foreign trade. It seems to have been in this way that the ancient Egyptians and the modern Chinese acquired their great wealth. The ancient Egyptians are said to have neglected foreign commerce; the modern Chinese are known to hold it in the utmost contempt and scarcely deign to grant it the ordinary protection of the law. Modern maxims of foreign commerce, insofar as they succeed in impoverishing all our neighbors as intended, tend to make that very commerce insignificant and contemptible.
It is because of these maxims that commerce between France and England has been subjected to so many discouragements and restraints in both countries. Yet if the two countries considered their true interests without mercantile jealousy or national animosity, trade with France might be more advantageous to Great Britain than trade with any other country, and for the same reason trade with Great Britain might be more advantageous to France. France is Great Britain's nearest neighbor. In trade between the southern coast of England and the northern and northwestern coast of France, returns might be expected, as in inland trade, four, five, or six times a year. The capital employed in this trade could therefore, in each country, keep four, five, or six times as much industry in motion, and provide employment and subsistence for four, five, or six times as many people, as an equal capital employed in most other branches of foreign trade. Even between the most distant parts of France and Great Britain, returns might be expected at least once a year; and in this respect even that trade would be at least as advantageous as most other branches of our foreign European trade. It would be at least three times more advantageous than the much-praised trade with our North American colonies, where returns were seldom made in less than three years and frequently not in less than four or five years. France, moreover, is supposed to contain 24,000,000 inhabitants. Our North American colonies were never supposed to contain more than 3,000,000; and France is a much richer country than North America, though, because its riches are distributed more unequally, there is much more poverty and begging in France than in North America. France could therefore offer a market at least eight times larger and, because returns would be more frequent, four-and-twenty times more advantageous than the market our North American colonies ever offered. Britain's trade would be just as advantageous to France and, in proportion to the respective countries' wealth, population, and proximity, would have the same superiority over France's trade with its own colonies. Such is the immense difference between the trade that the wisdom of both nations has seen fit to discourage and the trade it has favored most.
But the very circumstances that would make free and open commerce between the two countries so advantageous to both have given rise to its principal obstacles. Being neighbors, they are necessarily enemies, and each country's wealth and power therefore become more threatening to the other; what would heighten the benefits of national friendship serves only to intensify national animosity. Both are rich and industrious nations, and the merchants and manufacturers of each fear competition from the skill and activity of their counterparts in the other. Mercantile jealousy is aroused: it both inflames national animosity and is inflamed by it. And the traders of both countries, with all the passionate certainty of self-interested falsehood, have proclaimed the certain ruin of each as the consequence of the unfavorable balance of trade that they claim would inevitably follow unrestricted commerce with the other.
There is no commercial country in Europe whose approaching ruin the supposed experts of this system have not repeatedly predicted on the grounds of an unfavorable balance of trade. Yet for all the anxiety they have stirred up about it, and despite the futile attempts of nearly all trading nations to turn that balance in their own favor and against their neighbors, no nation in Europe appears to have been impoverished in any respect by this cause. On the contrary, towns and countries have grown richer, in proportion as they have opened their ports to all nations, rather than being ruined by free trade as the principles of the mercantile system would lead us to expect. Though a few towns in Europe do, in some respects, deserve the name of free ports, no country does. Holland perhaps comes nearer to it than any other, though still very far from it; and Holland is acknowledged to derive not only all its wealth but much of its essential subsistence from foreign trade.
There is indeed another balance, already explained, very different from the balance of trade, which necessarily brings about the prosperity or decline of every nation according as it is favorable or unfavorable. This is the balance of annual produce and consumption. As already observed, if the exchangeable value of annual produce exceeds that of annual consumption, the society's capital must increase each year in proportion to the surplus. In this case society lives within its revenue; what it saves from that revenue each year is naturally added to its capital and employed to increase annual produce still further. If, on the contrary, the exchangeable value of annual produce falls short of annual consumption, the society's capital must diminish each year in proportion to the shortfall. In this case society's expenditure exceeds its revenue and necessarily eats into its capital. Its capital must therefore decline, and with it the exchangeable value of the annual produce of its industry.
This balance of produce and consumption is entirely different from what is called the balance of trade. It could exist in a nation with no foreign trade, wholly cut off from the rest of the world. It can exist across the whole globe, whose wealth, population, and improvement may be gradually increasing or gradually declining.
The balance of produce and consumption can be steadily in a nation's favor even when what is called the balance of trade is generally against it. A nation may import goods of greater value than it exports for perhaps half a century on end; all the gold and silver entering it during that time may immediately leave again; its circulating coin may gradually dwindle as different kinds of paper money take its place; even its debts to the principal nations with which it trades may gradually increase. Yet during the same period its real wealth—the exchangeable value of the annual produce of its land and labor—may have increased by a much greater proportion. The condition of our North American colonies and their trade with Great Britain before the beginning of the present disturbances, [This paragraph was written in the year 1775.] may serve to show that this is by no means an impossible supposition.
Book IV, Chapter IV
18th-century English
OF DRAWBACKS.
Merchants and manufacturers are not contented with the monopoly of the home market, but desire likewise the most extensive foreign sale for their goods. Their country has no jurisdiction in foreign nations, and therefore can seldom procure them any monopoly there. They are generally obliged, therefore, to content themselves with petitioning for certain encouragements to exportation.
Of these encouragements, what are called drawbacks seem to be the most reasonable. To allow the merchant to draw back upon exportation, either the whole, or a part of whatever excise or inland duty is imposed upon domestic industry, can never occasion the exportation of a greater quantity of goods than what would have been exported had no duty been imposed. Such encouragements do not tend to turn towards any particular employment a greater share of the capital of the country, than what would go to that employment of its own accord, but only to hinder the duty from driving away any part of that share to other employments. They tend not to overturn that balance which naturally establishes itself among all the various employments of the society, but to hinder it from being overturned by the duty. They tend not to destroy, but to preserve, what it is in most cases advantageous to preserve, the natural division and distribution of labour in the society.
The same thing may be said of the drawbacks upon the re-exportation of foreign goods imported, which, in Great Britain, generally amount to by much the largest part of the duty upon importation. By the second of the rules, annexed to the act of parliament, which imposed what is now called the old subsidy, every merchant, whether English or alien. was allowed to draw back half that duty upon exportation; the English merchant, provided the exportation took place within twelve months; the alien, provided it took place within nine months. Wines, currants, and wrought silks, were the only goods which did not fall within this rule, having other and more advantageous allowances. The duties imposed by this act of parliament were, at that time, the only duties upon the importation of foreign goods. The term within which this, and all other drawbacks could be claimed, was afterwards (by 7 Geo. I. chap. 21. sect. 10.) extended to three years.
The duties which have been imposed since the old subsidy, are, the greater part of them, wholly drawn back upon exportation. This general rule, however, is liable to a great number of exceptions; and the doctrine of drawbacks has become a much less simple matter than it was at their first institution.
Upon the exportation of some foreign goods, of which it was expected that the importation would greatly exceed what was necessary for the home consumption, the whole duties are drawn back, without retaining even half the old subsidy. Before the revolt of our North American colonies, we had the monopoly of the tobacco of Maryland and Virginia. We imported about ninety-six thousand hogsheads, and the home consumption was not supposed to exceed fourteen thousand. To facilitate the great exportation which was necessary, in order to rid us of the rest, the whole duties were drawn back, provided the exportation took place within three years.
We still have, though not altogether, yet very nearly, the monopoly of the sugars of our West Indian islands. If sugars are exported within a year, therefore, all the duties upon importation are drawn back; and if exported within three years, all the duties, except half the old subsidy, which still continues to be retained upon the exportation of the greater part of goods. Though the importation of sugar exceeds a good deal what is necessary for the home consumption, the excess is inconsiderable, in comparison of what it used to be in tobacco.
Some goods, the particular objects of the jealousy of our own manufacturers, are prohibited to be imported for home consumption. They may, however, upon paying certain duties, be imported and warehoused for exportation. But upon such exportation no part of these duties is drawn back. Our manufacturers are unwilling, it seems, that even this restricted importation should be encouraged, and are afraid lest some part of these goods should be stolen out of the warehouse, and thus come into competition with their own. It is under these regulations only that we can import wrought silks, French cambrics and lawns, calicoes, painted, printed, stained, or dyed, etc.
We are unwilling even to be the carriers of French goods, and choose rather to forego a profit to ourselves than to suffer those whom we consider as our enemies to make any profit by our means. Not only half the old subsidy, but the second twenty-five per cent. is retained upon the exportation of all French goods.
By the fourth of the rules annexed to the old subsidy, the drawback allowed upon the exportation of all wines amounted to a great deal more than half the duties which were at that time paid upon their importation; and it seems at that time to have been the object of the legislature to give somewhat more than ordinary encouragement to the carrying trade in wine. Several of the other duties, too which were imposed either at the same time or subsequent to the old subsidy, what is called the additional duty, the new subsidy, the one-third and two-thirds subsidies, the impost 1692, the tonnage on wine, were allowed to be wholly drawn back upon exportation. All those duties, however, except the additional duty and impost 1692, being paid down in ready money upon importation, the interest of so large a sum occasioned an expense, which made it unreasonable to expect any profitable carrying trade in this article. Only a part, therefore of the duty called the impost on wine, and no part of the twenty-five pounds the ton upon French wines, or of the duties imposed in 1745, in 1763, and in 1778, were allowed to be drawn back upon exportation. The two imposts of five per cent. imposed in 1779 and 1781, upon all the former duties of customs, being allowed to be wholly drawn back upon the exportation of all other goods, were likewise allowed to be drawn back upon that of wine. The last duty that has been particularly imposed upon wine, that of 1780, is allowed to be wholly drawn back; an indulgence which, when so many heavy duties are retained, most probably could never occasion the exportation of a single ton of wine. These rules took place with regard to all places of lawful exportation, except the British colonies in America.
The 15th Charles II, chap. 7, called an act for the encouragement of trade, had given Great Britain the monopoly of supplying the colonies with all the commodities of the growth or manufacture of Europe, and consequently with wines. In a country of so extensive a coast as our North American and West Indian colonies, where our authority was always so very slender, and where the inhabitants were allowed to carry out in their own ships their non-enumerated commodities, at first to all parts of Europe, and afterwards to all parts of Europe south of Cape Finisterre, it is not very probable that this monopoly could ever be much respected; and they probably at all times found means of bringing back some cargo from the countries to which they were allowed to carry out one. They seem, however, to have found some difficulty in importing European wines from the places of their growth; and they could not well import them from Great Britain, where they were loaded with many heavy duties, of which a considerable part was not drawn back upon exportation. Madeira wine, not being an European commodity, could be imported directly into America and the West Indies, countries which, in all their non-enumerated commodities, enjoyed a free trade to the island of Madeira. These circumstances had probably introduced that general taste for Madeira wine, which our officers found established in all our colonies at the commencement of the war which began in 1755, and which they brought back with them to the mother country, where that wine had not been much in fashion before. Upon the conclusion of that war, in 1763 (by the 4th Geo. III, chap. 15, sect. 12), all the duties except £3, 10s. were allowed to be drawn back upon the exportation to the colonies of all wines, except French wines, to the commerce and consumption of which national prejudice would allow no sort of encouragement. The period between the granting of this indulgence and the revolt of our North American colonies, was probably too short to admit of any considerable change in the customs of those countries.
The same act which, in the drawbacks upon all wines, except French wines, thus favoured the colonies so much more than other countries, in those upon the greater part of other commodities, favoured them much less. Upon the exportation of the greater part of commodities to other countries, half the old subsidy was drawn back. But this law enacted, that no part of that duty should be drawn back upon the exportation to the colonies of any commodities of the growth or manufacture either of Europe or the East Indies, except wines, white calicoes, and muslins.
Drawbacks were, perhaps, originally granted for the encouragement of the carrying trade, which, as the freight of the ship is frequently paid by foreigners in money, was supposed to be peculiarly fitted for bringing gold and silver into the country. But though the carrying trade certainly deserves no peculiar encouragement, though the motive of the institution was, perhaps, abundantly foolish, the institution itself seems reasonable enough. Such drawbacks cannot force into this trade a greater share of the capital of the country than what would have gone to it of its own accord, had there been no duties upon importation; they only prevent its being excluded altogether by those duties. The carrying trade, though it deserves no preference, ought not to be precluded, but to be left free, like all other trades. It is a necessary resource to those capitals which cannot find employment, either in the agriculture or in the manufactures of the country, either in its home trade, or in its foreign trade of consumption.
The revenue of the customs, instead of suffering, profits from such drawbacks, by that part of the duty which is retained. If the whole duties had been retained, the foreign goods upon which they are paid could seldom have been exported, nor consequently imported, for want of a market. The duties, therefore, of which a part is retained, would never have been paid.
These reasons seem sufficiently to justify drawbacks, and would justify them, though the whole duties, whether upon the produce of domestic industry or upon foreign goods, were always drawn back upon exportation. The revenue of excise would, in this case indeed, suffer a little, and that of the customs a good deal more; but the natural balance of industry, the natural division and distribution of labour, which is always more or less disturbed by such duties, would be more nearly re-established by such a regulation.
These reasons, however, will justify drawbacks only upon exporting goods to those countries which are altogether foreign and independent, not to those in which our merchants and manufacturers enjoy a monopoly. A drawback, for example, upon the exportation of European goods to our American colonies, will not always occasion a greater exportation than what would have taken place without it. By means of the monopoly which our merchants and manufacturers enjoy there, the same quantity might frequently, perhaps, be sent thither, though the whole duties were retained. The drawback, therefore, may frequently be pure loss to the revenue of excise and customs, without altering the state of the trade, or rendering it in any respect more extensive. How far such drawbacks can be justified as a proper encouragement to the industry of our colonies, or how far it is advantageous to the mother country that they should be exempted from taxes which are paid by all the rest of their fellow-subjects, will appear hereafter, when I come to treat of colonies.
Drawbacks, however, it must always be understood, are useful only in those cases in which the goods, for the exportation of which they are given, are really exported to some foreign country, and not clandestinely re-imported into our own. That some drawbacks, particularly those upon tobacco, have frequently been abused in this manner, and have given occasion to many frauds, equally hurtful both to the revenue and to the fair trader, is well known.
English
OF DRAWBACKS.
Merchants and manufacturers are not satisfied with a monopoly of the home market: they also desire the widest possible foreign market for their goods. Their country has no jurisdiction over foreign nations and can therefore seldom obtain a monopoly for them there. They must generally content themselves with petitioning for certain incentives to export.
Of these incentives, what are called drawbacks seem the most reasonable. Allowing a merchant to recover on exportation all or part of an excise or inland duty imposed on domestic industry can never cause a greater quantity of goods to be exported than would have been exported if no duty had been imposed. Such incentives do not divert to a particular employment more of the country's capital than would go there of its own accord; they merely prevent the duty from driving part of that capital into other employments. They do not upset the balance that naturally establishes itself among the various employments of society, but keep the duty from upsetting it. They do not destroy, but preserve, what in most cases it is advantageous to preserve: the natural division and distribution of labor in society.
The same can be said of drawbacks on the re-exportation of imported foreign goods, which in Great Britain generally repay by far the greater part of the import duty. Under the second rule attached to the act of Parliament that imposed what is now called the old subsidy, every merchant, English or foreign, was allowed to recover half that duty upon exportation: the English merchant if he exported within twelve months, the foreign merchant if within nine months. Wines, currants, and wrought silks were the only goods outside this rule, having other and more favorable allowances. The duties imposed by this act of Parliament were at that time the only duties on imports of foreign goods. The period within which this and all other drawbacks could be claimed was later extended to three years (by 7 Geo. I. chap. 21. sect. 10.).
Most of the duties imposed since the old subsidy are refunded in full on exportation. This general rule, however, has a great many exceptions; the doctrine of drawbacks has become much less simple than it was when they were first introduced.
On the exportation of some foreign goods whose imports were expected greatly to exceed what home consumption required, all duties are refunded, without retaining even half the old subsidy. Before the revolt of our North American colonies, we held a monopoly of the tobacco of Maryland and Virginia. We imported about ninety-six thousand hogsheads, while home consumption was not supposed to exceed fourteen thousand. To facilitate the extensive exportation needed to dispose of the rest, all duties were refunded, provided the tobacco was exported within three years.
We still hold, if not a complete monopoly, then very nearly a monopoly of the sugar of our West Indian islands. Thus, if sugars are exported within a year, all the import duties are refunded; and if within three years, all are refunded except half the old subsidy, which continues to be retained on exports of most goods. Though sugar imports considerably exceed what is needed for home consumption, the surplus is small compared with what the surplus in tobacco used to be.
Certain goods, particular objects of jealousy to our manufacturers, may not be imported for home consumption. On paying certain duties, however, they may be imported and warehoused for export. But no part of those duties is refunded upon their exportation. Our manufacturers, it seems, do not want even this restricted importation to be encouraged, fearing that some of the goods might be stolen from the warehouse and thus compete with their own. Only under these regulations can we import wrought silks, French cambrics and lawns, calicoes that are painted, printed, stained, or dyed, etc.
We are unwilling even to carry French goods, preferring to forgo a profit ourselves rather than allow those we regard as enemies to profit by our means. Not only half the old subsidy but the second twenty-five per cent. is retained when any French goods are exported.
Under the fourth rule attached to the old subsidy, the drawback on exports of all wines amounted to considerably more than half the duties then paid on their importation. The legislature seems at that time to have intended to give the carrying trade in wine more than ordinary encouragement. Several other duties imposed at the same time as, or after, the old subsidy—the additional duty, the new subsidy, the one-third and two-thirds subsidies, the impost 1692, and the tonnage on wine—could also be recovered in full on exportation. All these duties except the additional duty and impost 1692, however, had to be paid in cash on importation. The interest on so large a sum was an expense that made it unreasonable to expect any profitable carrying trade in wine. Consequently, only part of the duty called the impost on wine, and none of the twenty-five pounds the ton on French wines or of the duties imposed in 1745, in 1763, and in 1778, could be recovered on exportation. The two imposts of five per cent. imposed in 1779 and 1781 on all earlier customs duties could be recovered in full on exports of all other goods, and likewise on exports of wine. The last duty imposed specifically on wine, that of 1780, can be recovered in full—an indulgence that, when so many heavy duties remain, could most likely never cause a single ton of wine to be exported. These rules applied to every place of lawful exportation except the British colonies in America.
The 15th Charles II, chap. 7, called an act for the encouragement of trade, had given Great Britain a monopoly on supplying the colonies with all goods grown or manufactured in Europe, and therefore with wines. In a region with coasts as extensive as those of our North American and West Indian colonies, where our authority was always so weak and the inhabitants were allowed to ship their non-enumerated commodities in their own vessels, first to every part of Europe and later to every part south of Cape Finisterre, this monopoly was unlikely ever to be strictly observed. They probably always found ways to bring some cargo back from countries to which they were permitted to carry one. They seem, however, to have encountered some difficulty in importing European wines from the countries where they were grown. Nor could they easily import them from Great Britain, where they bore many heavy duties, a considerable part of which was not refunded on exportation. Madeira wine, not being a European commodity, could be imported directly into America and the West Indies, whose non-enumerated commodities enjoyed free trade with the island of Madeira. These circumstances had probably established the general taste for Madeira wine that our officers found throughout our colonies at the beginning of the war that began in 1755, and that they brought home to the mother country, where the wine had not previously been much in fashion. At the end of that war, in 1763 (by the 4th Geo. III, chap. 15, sect. 12), all duties except £3, 10s. could be recovered on exports of wine to the colonies, apart from French wines, whose trade and consumption national prejudice would not allow to receive any encouragement. The time between this indulgence and the revolt of our North American colonies was probably too short for any considerable change in those countries' customs.
The same act that thus favored the colonies much more than other countries in the drawbacks on all wines except French wines favored them much less in those on most other commodities. On exports of most commodities to other countries, half the old subsidy was refunded. But this law provided that none of that duty should be refunded on exports to the colonies of commodities grown or manufactured in Europe or the East Indies, except wines, white calicoes, and muslins.
Drawbacks were perhaps originally granted to encourage the carrying trade, which was thought especially suited to bringing gold and silver into the country because foreigners often paid a ship's freight in money. Yet though the carrying trade certainly deserves no special encouragement, and though the motive for this policy was perhaps exceedingly foolish, the policy itself seems reasonable enough. Such drawbacks cannot force more of the country's capital into this trade than would have gone into it of its own accord in the absence of import duties; they only prevent those duties from shutting the trade out altogether. The carrying trade, though it deserves no preference, ought not to be excluded, but left free like every other trade. It provides a necessary outlet for capital that can find employment neither in the country's agriculture or manufactures, nor in its home trade or its foreign trade for domestic consumption.
Far from losing by such drawbacks, customs revenue gains from the part of the duty that is retained. Had all the duties been retained, the foreign goods on which they are paid could seldom have been exported, and consequently could seldom have been imported, for lack of a market. The duties of which a part is retained would therefore never have been paid.
These reasons seem sufficient to justify drawbacks, and would justify them even if all duties, whether on the produce of domestic industry or on foreign goods, were always refunded on exportation. Excise revenue would indeed suffer a little in that case, and customs revenue considerably more; but such a policy would come closer to restoring the natural balance of industry, the natural division and distribution of labor, which these duties always disturb to some degree.
These reasons, however, justify drawbacks only on exports to countries that are entirely foreign and independent, not to countries in which our merchants and manufacturers enjoy a monopoly. A drawback on exports of European goods to our American colonies, for example, will not always produce greater exports than would have occurred without it. Through the monopoly our merchants and manufacturers enjoy there, the same quantity might often be sent over even if all duties were retained. The drawback can therefore often be a pure loss to excise and customs revenue without changing the trade or enlarging it in any respect. Whether such drawbacks can be justified as a proper encouragement to the industry of our colonies, or whether it benefits the mother country to exempt them from taxes paid by all their fellow subjects, will become clear later, when I discuss colonies.
Drawbacks, however, must always be understood to be useful only when the goods for whose exportation they are granted are actually exported to a foreign country, rather than secretly re-imported into our own. It is well known that some drawbacks, particularly those on tobacco, have often been abused in this way and have given rise to many frauds, injurious alike to revenue and to honest traders.
Book IV, Chapter V, 1
18th-century English
OF BOUNTIES.
Bounties upon exportation are, in Great Britain, frequently petitioned for, and sometimes granted, to the produce of particular branches of domestic industry. By means of them, our merchants and manufacturers, it is pretended, will be enabled to sell their goods as cheap or cheaper than their rivals in the foreign market. A greater quantity, it is said, will thus be exported, and the balance of trade consequently turned more in favour of our own country. We cannot give our workmen a monopoly in the foreign, as we have done in the home market. We cannot force foreigners to buy their goods, as we have done our own countrymen. The next best expedient, it has been thought, therefore, is to pay them for buying. It is in this manner that the mercantile system proposes to enrich the whole country, and to put money into all our pockets, by means of the balance of trade.
Bounties, it is allowed, ought to be given to those branches of trade only which cannot be carried on without them. But every branch of trade in which the merchant can sell his goods for a price which replaces to him, with the ordinary profits of stock, the whole capital employed in preparing and sending them to market, can be carried on without a bounty. Every such branch is evidently upon a level with all the other branches of trade which are carried on without bounties, and cannot, therefore, require one more than they. Those trades only require bounties, in which the merchant is obliged to sell his goods for a price which does not replace to him his capital, together with the ordinary profit, or in which he is obliged to sell them for less than it really cost him to send them to market. The bounty is given in order to make up this loss, and to encourage him to continue, or, perhaps, to begin a trade, of which the expense is supposed to be greater than the returns, of which every operation eats up a part of the capital employed in it, and which is of such a nature, that if all other trades resembled it, there would soon be no capital left in the country.
The trades, it is to be observed, which are carried on by means of bounties, are the only ones which can be carried on between two nations for any considerable time together, in such a manner as that one of them shall always and regularly lose, or sell its goods for less than it really cost to send them to market. But if the bounty did not repay to the merchant what he would otherwise lose upon the price of his goods, his own interest would soon oblige him to employ his stock in another way, or to find out a trade in which the price of the goods would replace to him, with the ordinary profit, the capital employed in sending them to market. The effect of bounties, like that of all the other expedients of the mercantile system, can only be to force the trade of a country into a channel much less advantageous than that in which it would naturally run of its own accord.
The ingenious and well-informed author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade has shown very clearly, that since the bounty upon the exportation of corn was first established, the price of the corn exported, valued moderately enough, has exceeded that of the corn imported, valued very high, by a much greater sum than the amount of the whole bounties which have been paid during that period. This, he imagines, upon the true principles of the mercantile system, is a clear proof that this forced corn trade is beneficial to the nation, the value of the exportation exceeding that of the importation by a much greater sum than the whole extraordinary expense which the public has been at in order to get it exported. He does not consider that this extraordinary expense, or the bounty, is the smallest part of the expense which the exportation of corn really costs the society. The capital which the farmer employed in raising it must likewise be taken into the account. Unless the price of the corn, when sold in the foreign markets, replaces not only the bounty, but this capital, together with the ordinary profits of stock, the society is a loser by the difference, or the national stock is so much diminished. But the very reason for which it has been thought necessary to grant a bounty, is the supposed insufficiency of the price to do this.
The average price of corn, it has been said, has fallen considerably since the establishment of the bounty. That the average price of corn began to fall somewhat towards the end of the last century, and has continued to do so during the course of the sixty-four first years of the present, I have already endeavoured to show. But this event, supposing it to be real, as I believe it to be, must have happened in spite of the bounty, and cannot possibly have happened in consequence of it. It has happened in France, as well as in England, though in France there was not only no bounty, but, till 1764, the exportation of corn was subjected to a general prohibition. This gradual fall in the average price of grain, it is probable, therefore, is ultimately owing neither to the one regulation nor to the other, but to that gradual and insensible rise in the real value of silver, which, in the first book of this discourse, I have endeavoured to show, has taken place in the general market of Europe during the course of the present century. It seems to be altogether impossible that the bounty could ever contribute to lower the price of grain.
In years of plenty, it has already been observed, the bounty, by occasioning an extraordinary exportation, necessarily keeps up the price of corn in the home market above what it would naturally fall to. To do so was the avowed purpose of the institution. In years of scarcity, though the bounty is frequently suspended, yet the great exportation which it occasions in years of plenty, must frequently hinder, more or less, the plenty of one year from relieving the scarcity of another. Both in years of plenty and in years of scarcity, therefore, the bounty necessarily tends to raise the money price of corn somewhat higher than it otherwise would be in the home market.
That in the actual state of tillage the bounty must necessarily have this tendency, will not, I apprehend, be disputed by any reasonable person. But it has been thought by many people, that it tends to encourage tillage, and that in two different ways; first, by opening a more extensive foreign market to the corn of the farmer, it tends, they imagine, to increase the demand for, and consequently the production of, that commodity; and, secondly by securing to him a better price than he could otherwise expect in the actual state of tillage, it tends, they suppose, to encourage tillage. This double encouragement must they imagine, in a long period of years, occasion such an increase in the production of corn, as may lower its price in the home market, much more than the bounty can raise it in the actual state which tillage may, at the end of that period, happen to be in.
I answer, that whatever extension of the foreign market can be occasioned by the bounty must, in every particular year, be altogether at the expense of the home market; as every bushel of corn, which is exported by means of the bounty, and which would not have been exported without the bounty, would have remained in the home market to increase the consumption, and to lower the price of that commodity. The corn bounty, it is to be observed, as well as every other bounty upon exportation, imposes two different taxes upon the people; first, the tax which they are obliged to contribute, in order to pay the bounty; and, secondly, the tax which arises from the advanced price of the commodity in the home market, and which, as the whole body of the people are purchasers of corn, must, in this particular commodity, be paid by the whole body of the people. In this particular commodity, therefore, this second tax is by much the heaviest of the two. Let us suppose that, taking one year with another, the bounty of 5s. upon the exportation of the quarter of wheat raises the price of that commodity in the home market only 6d. the bushel, or 4s. the quarter higher than it otherwise would have been in the actual state of the crop. Even upon this very moderate supposition, the great body of the people, over and above contributing the tax which pays the bounty of 5s. upon every quarter of wheat exported, must pay another of 4s. upon every quarter which they themselves consume. But according to the very well informed author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade, the average proportion of the corn exported to that consumed at home, is not more than that of one to thirty-one. For every 5s. therefore, which they contribute to the payment of the first tax, they must contribute £6:4s. to the payment of the second. So very heavy a tax upon the first necessary of life-must either reduce the subsistence of the labouring poor, or it must occasion some augmentation in their pecuniary wages, proportionable to that in the pecuniary price of their subsistence. So far as it operates in the one way, it must reduce the ability of the labouring poor to educate and bring up their children, and must, so far, tend to restrain the population of the country. So far as it operates in the other, it must reduce the ability of the employers of the poor, to employ so great a number as they otherwise might do, and must so far tend to restrain the industry of the country. The extraordinary exportation of corn, therefore occasioned by the bounty, not only in every particular year diminishes the home, just as much as it extends the foreign market and consumption, but, by restraining the population and industry of the country, its final tendency is to stint and restrain the gradual extension of the home market; and thereby, in the long-run, rather to diminish than to augment the whole market and consumption of corn.
This enhancement of the money price of corn, however, it has been thought, by rendering that commodity more profitable to the farmer, must necessarily encourage its production.
I answer, that this might be the case, if the effect of the bounty was to raise the real price of corn, or to enable the farmer, with an equal quantity of it, to maintain a greater number of labourers in the same manner, whether liberal, moderate, or scanty, than other labourers are commonly maintained in his neighbourhood. But neither the bounty, it is evident, nor any other human institution, can have any such effect. It is not the real, but the nominal price of corn, which can in any considerable degree be affected by the bounty. And though the tax, which that institution imposes upon the whole body of the people, may be very burdensome to those who pay it, it is of very little advantage to those who receive it.
The real effect of the bounty is not so much to raise the real value of corn, as to degrade the real value of silver; or to make an equal quantity of it exchange for a smaller quantity, not only of corn, but of all other home made commodities; for the money price of corn regulates that of all other home made commodities.
It regulates the money price of labour, which must always be such as to enable the labourer to purchase a quantity of corn sufficient to maintain him and his family, either in the liberal, moderate, or scanty manner, in which the advancing, stationary, or declining, circumstances of the society, oblige his employers to maintain him.
It regulates the money price of all the other parts of the rude produce of land, which, in every period of improvement, must bear a certain proportion to that of corn, though this proportion is different in different periods. It regulates, for example, the money price of grass and hay, of butcher’s meat, of horses, and the maintenance of horses, of land carriage consequently, or of the greater part of the inland commerce of the country.
By regulating the money price of all the other parts of the rude produce of land, it regulates that of the materials of almost all manufactures; by regulating the money price of labour, it regulates that of manufacturing art and industry; and by regulating both, it regulates that of the complete manufacture. The money price of labour, and of every thing that is the produce, either of land or labour, must necessarily either rise or fall in proportion to the money price of corn.
Though in consequence of the bounty, therefore, the farmer should be enabled to sell his corn for 4s. the bushel, instead of 3s:6d. and to pay his landlord a money rent proportionable to this rise in the money price of his produce; yet if, in consequence of this rise in the price of corn, 4s. will purchase no more home made goods of any other kind than 3s. 6d. would have done before, neither the circumstances of the farmer, nor those of the landlord, will be much mended by this change. The farmer will not be able to cultivate much better; the landlord will not be able to live much better. In the purchase of foreign commodities, this enhancement in the price of corn may give them some little advantage. In that of home made commodities, it can give them none at all. And almost the whole expense of the farmer, and the far greater part even of that of the landlord, is in home made commodities.
That degradation in the value of silver, which is the effect of the fertility of the mines, and which operates equally, or very nearly equally, through the greater part of the commercial world, is a matter of very little consequence to any particular country. The consequent rise of all money prices, though it does not make those who receive them really richer, does not make them really poorer. A service of plate becomes really cheaper, and every thing else remains precisely of the same real value as before.
But that degradation in the value of silver, which, being the effect either of the peculiar situation or of the political institutions of a particular country, takes place only in that country, is a matter of very great consequence, which, far from tending to make anybody really richer, tends to make every body really poorer. The rise in the money price of all commodities, which is in this case peculiar to that country, tends to discourage more or less every sort of industry which is carried on within it, and to enable foreign nations, by furnishing almost all sorts of goods for a smaller quantity of silver than its own workmen can afford to do, to undersell them, not only in the foreign, but even in the home market.
It is the peculiar situation of Spain and Portugal, as proprietors of the mines, to be the distributers of gold and silver to all the other countries of Europe. Those metals ought naturally, therefore, to be somewhat cheaper in Spain and Portugal than in any other part of Europe. The difference, however, should be no more than the amount of the freight and insurance; and, on account of the great value and small bulk of those metals, their freight is no great matter, and their insurance is the same as that of any other goods of equal value. Spain and Portugal, therefore, could suffer very little from their peculiar situation, if they did not aggravate its disadvantages by their political institutions.
English
OF BOUNTIES.
In Great Britain, bounties on exports of the produce of particular branches of domestic industry are often petitioned for and sometimes granted. It is claimed that these will enable our merchants and manufacturers to sell their goods as cheaply as, or more cheaply than, their rivals in foreign markets. More goods, it is said, will thus be exported, turning the balance of trade further in our country's favor. We cannot give our workmen a monopoly in foreign markets as we have in the home market. We cannot force foreigners to buy their goods as we have forced our own countrymen. The next best expedient, it has therefore been thought, is to pay foreigners to buy them. This is how the mercantile system proposes to enrich the whole country, putting money into all our pockets through the balance of trade.
Bounties, it is conceded, ought to be given only to branches of trade that cannot be carried on without them. But any branch in which a merchant can sell his goods for a price that repays the entire capital employed in preparing and sending them to market, together with the ordinary profits of stock, can be carried on without a bounty. Such a branch is evidently on a level with all the other branches of trade conducted without bounties, and can no more require one than they do. Only those trades require bounties in which the merchant must sell his goods for a price that fails to repay his capital and the ordinary profit, or for less than it actually cost him to bring them to market. The bounty is given to make up this loss and encourage him to continue, or perhaps begin, a trade whose expenses are supposed to exceed its returns, whose every transaction consumes part of the capital invested in it, and which is of such a nature that, if all other trades resembled it, the country would soon have no capital left.
It should be observed that trades maintained by bounties are the only trades that can persist between two nations for any considerable time while one nation continually and regularly loses, selling its goods for less than it actually cost to bring them to market. If the bounty did not repay the merchant what he would otherwise lose on the price of his goods, his own interest would soon compel him to use his stock in another way, or to find a trade in which the price of the goods repaid, with the ordinary profit, the capital used in bringing them to market. Like all the other devices of the mercantile system, bounties can only force a country's trade into a channel much less advantageous than the one it would naturally follow of its own accord.
The ingenious and well-informed author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade has shown very clearly that, since the bounty on exports of corn was first established, the price of the corn exported, valued moderately enough, has exceeded that of the corn imported, valued very highly, by a sum much greater than the total bounties paid over that period. He believes that, by the true principles of the mercantile system, this clearly proves the forced corn trade benefits the nation: the value of exports exceeds that of imports by much more than the whole extraordinary expense the public has incurred to secure those exports. He overlooks the fact that this extraordinary expense, the bounty, is the smallest part of what exporting corn actually costs society. The capital the farmer used to grow it must also be counted. Unless the price received for the corn in foreign markets repays not only the bounty but also this capital, together with the ordinary profits of stock, society loses the difference: the national stock is diminished by that much. But the very reason a bounty has been thought necessary is the belief that the price is too low to do this.
It has been said that the average price of corn has fallen considerably since the bounty was established. I have already tried to show that the average price of corn began to fall somewhat toward the end of the last century, and continued to fall through the first sixty-four years of this one. But this development, assuming it is real, as I believe it is, must have occurred in spite of the bounty and cannot possibly have been caused by it. It occurred in France as well as in England, although France had no bounty and, until 1764, generally prohibited exports of corn. This gradual fall in the average price of grain is therefore probably owing in the end neither to one policy nor the other, but to the gradual and almost imperceptible rise in the real value of silver that, as I have tried to show in the first book of this work, has occurred across Europe's general market during the present century. It seems altogether impossible that the bounty could ever help lower the price of grain.
In years of plenty, as already observed, the bounty causes extraordinary exports and necessarily keeps the price of corn in the home market above the level to which it would naturally fall. That was the stated purpose of the policy. In years of scarcity, although the bounty is often suspended, the extensive exports it causes in plentiful years must often prevent, to some extent, one year's plenty from relieving another year's scarcity. In both plentiful and scarce years, therefore, the bounty necessarily tends to raise the money price of corn in the home market somewhat above what it would otherwise be.
I do not think any reasonable person will dispute that the bounty must have this effect under the present state of tillage. Many people, however, have thought it encourages tillage in two different ways. First, they suppose that by opening a wider foreign market for the farmer's corn, it increases demand and consequently production. Second, they suppose that by securing the farmer a better price than he could otherwise expect under the present state of tillage, it encourages tillage. Over many years, they imagine, this double encouragement must increase corn production so much that its price in the home market falls far more than the bounty can raise it in whatever state tillage happens to have reached by the end of that period.
I answer that any extension of the foreign market caused by the bounty must, in every single year, be entirely at the expense of the home market. Every bushel of corn exported because of the bounty, which would not otherwise have been exported, would have remained in the home market to increase consumption and lower the price of corn. The corn bounty, like every other bounty on exports, imposes two distinct taxes on the people: first, the tax they must contribute to pay the bounty; and second, the tax resulting from the higher price of corn in the home market, which, because everyone buys corn, must be paid by the whole population. In the case of corn, this second tax is much the heavier of the two. Suppose that, averaging one year with another, the bounty of 5s. on the exportation of a quarter of wheat raises its price in the home market only 6d. the bushel, or 4s. the quarter, above what it would otherwise be in the actual state of the crop. Even on this very modest assumption, the great body of the people, besides contributing the tax that pays a bounty of 5s. on every quarter of wheat exported, must pay another tax of 4s. on every quarter they consume themselves. But according to the very well-informed author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade, the average proportion of corn exported to corn consumed at home is no more than one to thirty-one. For every 5s. they contribute to the first tax, therefore, they must contribute £6:4s. to the second. So heavy a tax on the first necessity of life must either reduce the subsistence of the laboring poor or cause an increase in their money wages proportionate to the rise in the money price of their subsistence. To the extent that it acts in the first way, it reduces the ability of the laboring poor to educate and raise their children, and thus tends to restrain the country's population. To the extent that it acts in the second way, it reduces employers' ability to employ as many poor laborers as they otherwise could, and thus tends to restrain the country's industry. The extraordinary export of corn caused by the bounty, therefore, not only diminishes the home market and home consumption each year by exactly as much as it enlarges the foreign market and consumption, but, by restraining the country's population and industry, ultimately checks the gradual expansion of the home market. In the long run it tends to diminish, rather than increase, the total market for and consumption of corn.
It has been thought, however, that by making corn more profitable for the farmer, this increase in its money price must necessarily encourage its production.
I answer that this might be true if the bounty raised the real price of corn, or enabled the farmer to maintain more laborers with the same amount of corn, on the same scale—generous, moderate, or scanty—on which other laborers in his neighborhood are usually maintained. But neither the bounty nor any other human institution can evidently have such an effect. What the bounty can significantly affect is not the real price of corn but its nominal price. And though the tax that this policy imposes on the whole population may be very burdensome to those who pay it, it offers very little benefit to those who receive it.
The real effect of the bounty is less to raise the real value of corn than to lower the real value of silver: to make the same quantity of silver exchange for less, not only of corn but of every other domestically produced commodity. For the money price of corn governs the money prices of all other domestically produced commodities.
It governs the money price of labor, which must always enable the laborer to buy enough corn to support himself and his family on the generous, moderate, or scanty scale on which the advancing, stationary, or declining circumstances of society oblige his employers to maintain him.
It governs the money price of all the other raw produce of the land, which at every stage of improvement must bear a certain proportion to the price of corn, though that proportion differs from one stage to another. It governs, for example, the money price of grass and hay, butcher's meat, horses and their maintenance, and consequently land carriage, or the greater part of the country's inland commerce.
By governing the money price of all the other raw produce of the land, it governs the price of materials for almost all manufactures; by governing the money price of labor, it governs the price of manufacturing skill and industry; and by governing both, it governs the price of finished manufactures. The money price of labor and of everything produced by either land or labor must necessarily rise or fall in proportion to the money price of corn.
Suppose, therefore, that the bounty enables the farmer to sell his corn for 4s. the bushel instead of 3s:6d., and to pay his landlord a money rent proportionate to this rise in the money price of his produce. If, because corn has risen in price, 4s. will buy no more domestically produced goods of any other kind than 3s. 6d. bought before, this change will do little to improve the circumstances of either farmer or landlord. The farmer will not be able to cultivate much better; the landlord will not be able to live much better. In buying foreign commodities, this rise in the price of corn may give them some small advantage. In buying domestically produced goods it gives them none at all. And nearly all the farmer's spending, and by far the greater part even of the landlord's, is on domestically produced goods.
The fall in the value of silver that results from the fertility of the mines, and that operates equally or nearly equally throughout most of the commercial world, matters very little to any particular country. The resulting rise in all money prices does not make those who receive them really richer, but neither does it make them really poorer. A set of silverware becomes cheaper in real terms, and everything else remains of precisely the same real value as before.
But a fall in the value of silver that results from the particular circumstances or political institutions of one country, and takes place only there, is a matter of great consequence. Far from making anyone really richer, it tends to make everyone really poorer. The rise in money prices of all commodities, peculiar in this case to that country, tends to discourage to some degree every kind of industry conducted within it. It enables foreign nations, which can supply nearly all kinds of goods for less silver than its own workmen can afford to accept, to undersell those workmen not only abroad but even in the home market.
As owners of the mines, Spain and Portugal occupy the special position of distributing gold and silver to all the other countries of Europe. Those metals should therefore naturally be somewhat cheaper in Spain and Portugal than anywhere else in Europe. The difference, however, should be no more than the cost of freight and insurance. Because these metals have great value in small bulk, their freight is not considerable, and their insurance costs the same as that of any other goods of equal value. Spain and Portugal would therefore suffer very little from their special position if they did not compound its disadvantages through their political institutions.
Book IV, Chapter V, 2
18th-century English
Spain by taxing, and Portugal by prohibiting, the exportation of gold and silver, load that exportation with the expense of smuggling, and raise the value of those metals in other countries so much more above what it is in their own, by the whole amount of this expense. When you dam up a stream of water, as soon as the dam is full, as much water must run over the dam-head as if there was no dam at all. The prohibition of exportation cannot detain a greater quantity of gold and silver in Spain and Portugal, than what they can afford to employ, than what the annual produce of their land and labour will allow them to employ, in coin, plate, gilding, and other ornaments of gold and silver. When they have got this quantity, the dam is full, and the whole stream which flows in afterwards must run over. The annual exportation of gold and silver from Spain and Portugal, accordingly, is, by all accounts, notwithstanding these restraints, very near equal to the whole annual importation. As the water, however, must always be deeper behind the dam-head than before it, so the quantity of gold and silver which these restraints detain in Spain and Portugal, must, in proportion to the annual produce of their land and labour, be greater than what is to be found in other countries. The higher and stronger the dam-head, the greater must be the difference in the depth of water behind and before it. The higher the tax, the higher the penalties with which the prohibition is guarded, the more vigilant and severe the police which looks after the execution of the law, the greater must be the difference in the proportion of gold and silver to the annual produce of the land and labour of Spain and Portugal, and to that of other countries. It is said, accordingly, to be very considerable, and that you frequently find there a profusion of plate in houses, where there is nothing else which would in other countries be thought suitable or correspondent to this sort of magnificence. The cheapness of gold and silver, or, what is the same thing, the dearness of all commodities, which is the necessary effect of this redundancy of the precious metals, discourages both the agriculture and manufactures of Spain and Portugal, and enables foreign nations to supply them with many sorts of rude, and with almost all sorts of manufactured produce, for a smaller quantity of gold and silver than what they themselves can either raise or make them for at home. The tax and prohibition operate in two different ways. They not only lower very much the value of the precious metals in Spain and Portugal, but by detaining there a certain quantity of those metals which would otherwise flow over other countries, they keep up their value in those other countries somewhat above what it otherwise would be, and thereby give those countries a double advantage in their commerce with Spain and Portugal. Open the flood-gates, and there will presently be less water above, and more below the dam-head, and it will soon come to a level in both places. Remove the tax and the prohibition, and as the quantity of gold and silver will diminish considerably in Spain and Portugal, so it will increase somewhat in other countries; and the value of those metals, their proportion to the annual produce of land and labour, will soon come to a level, or very near to a level, in all. The loss which Spain and Portugal could sustain by this exportation of their gold and silver, would be altogether nominal and imaginary. The nominal value of their goods, and of the annual produce of their land and labour, would fall, and would be expressed or represented by a smaller quantity of silver than before; but their real value would be the same as before, and would be sufficient to maintain, command, and employ the same quantity of labour. As the nominal value of their goods would fall, the real value of what remained of their gold and silver would rise, and a smaller quantity of those metals would answer all the same purposes of commerce and circulation which had employed a greater quantity before. The gold and silver which would go abroad would not go abroad for nothing, but would bring back an equal value of goods of some kind or other. Those goods, too, would not be all matters of mere luxury and expense, to be consumed by idle people, who produce nothing in return for their consumption. As the real wealth and revenue of idle people would not be augmented by this extraordinary exportation of gold and silver, so neither would their consumption be much augmented by it. Those goods would probably, the greater part of them, and certainly some part of them, consist in materials, tools, and provisions, for the employment and maintenance of industrious people, who would reproduce, with a profit, the full value of their consumption. A part of the dead stock of the society would thus be turned into active stock, and would put into motion a greater quantity of industry than had been employed before. The annual produce of their land and labour would immediately be augmented a little, and in a few years would probably be augmented a great deal; their industry being thus relieved from one of the most oppressive burdens which it at present labours under.
The bounty upon the exportation of corn necessarily operates exactly in the same way as this absurd policy of Spain and Portugal. Whatever be the actual state of tillage, it renders our corn somewhat dearer in the home market than it otherwise would be in that state, and somewhat cheaper in the foreign; and as the average money price of corn regulates, more or less, that of all other commodities, it lowers the value of silver considerably in the one, and tends to raise it a little in the other. It enables foreigners, the Dutch in particular, not only to eat our corn cheaper than they otherwise could do, but sometimes to eat it cheaper than even our own people can do upon the same occasions; as we are assured by an excellent authority, that of Sir Matthew Decker. It hinders our own workmen from furnishing their goods for so small a quantity of silver as they otherwise might do, and enables the Dutch to furnish theirs for a smaller. It tends to render our manufactures somewhat dearer in every market, and theirs somewhat cheaper, than they otherwise would be, and consequently to give their industry a double advantage over our own.
The bounty, as it raises in the home market, not so much the real, as the nominal price of our corn; as it augments, not the quantity of labour which a certain quantity of corn can maintain and employ, but only the quantity of silver which it will exchange for; it discourages our manufactures, without rendering any considerable service, either to our farmers or country gentlemen. It puts, indeed, a little more money into the pockets of both, and it will perhaps be somewhat difficult to persuade the greater part of them that this is not rendering them a very considerable service. But if this money sinks in its value, in the quantity of labour, provisions, and home-made commodities of all different kinds which it is capable of purchasing, as much as it rises in its quantity, the service will be little more than nominal and imaginary.
There is, perhaps, but one set of men in the whole commonwealth to whom the bounty either was or could be essentially serviceable. These were the corn merchants, the exporters and importers of corn. In years of plenty, the bounty necessarily occasioned a greater exportation than would otherwise have taken place; and by hindering the plenty of the one year from relieving the scarcity of another, it occasioned in years of scarcity a greater importation than would otherwise have been necessary. It increased the business of the corn merchant in both; and in the years of scarcity, it not only enabled him to import a greater quantity, but to sell it for a better price, and consequently with a greater profit, than he could otherwise have made, if the plenty of one year had not been more or less hindered from relieving the scarcity of another. It is in this set of men, accordingly, that I have observed the greatest zeal for the continuance or renewal of the bounty.
Our country gentlemen, when they imposed the high duties upon the exportation of foreign corn, which in times of moderate plenty amount to a prohibition, and when they established the bounty, seem to have imitated the conduct of our manufacturers. By the one institution, they secured to themselves the monopoly of the home market, and by the other they endeavoured to prevent that market from ever being overstocked with their commodity. By both they endeavoured to raise its real value, in the same manner as our manufacturers had, by the like institutions, raised the real value of many different sorts of manufactured goods. They did not, perhaps, attend to the great and essential difference which nature has established between corn and almost every other sort of goods. When, either by the monopoly of the home market, or by a bounty upon exportation, you enable our woollen or linen manufacturers to sell their goods for somewhat a better price than they otherwise could get for them, you raise, not only the nominal, but the real price of those goods; you render them equivalent to a greater quantity of labour and subsistence; you increase not only the nominal, but the real profit, the real wealth and revenue of those manufacturers; and you enable them, either to live better themselves, or to employ a greater quantity of labour in those particular manufactures. You really encourage those manufactures, and direct towards them a greater quantity of the industry of the country than what would properly go to them of its own accord. But when, by the like institutions, you raise the nominal or money price of corn, you do not raise its real value; you do not increase the real wealth, the real revenue, either of our farmers or country gentlemen; you do not encourage the growth of corn, because you do not enable them to maintain and employ more labourers in raising it. The nature of things has stamped upon corn a real value, which cannot be altered by merely altering its money price. No bounty upon exportation, no monopoly of the home market, can raise that value. The freest competition cannot lower it, Through the world in general, that value is equal to the quantity of labour which it can maintain, and in every particular place it is equal to the quantity of labour which it can maintain in the way, whether liberal, moderate, or scanty, in which labour is commonly maintained in that place. Woollen or linen cloth are not the regulating commodities by which the real value of all other commodities must be finally measured and determined; corn is. The real value of every other commodity is finally measured and determined by the proportion which its average money price bears to the average money price of corn. The real value of corn does not vary with those variations in its average money price, which sometimes occur from one century to another; it is the real value of silver which varies with them.
Bounties upon the exportation of any homemade commodity are liable, first, to that general objection which may be made to all the different expedients of the mercantile system; the objection of forcing some part of the industry of the country into a channel less advantageous than that in which it would run of its own accord; and, secondly, to the particular objection of forcing it not only into a channel that is less advantageous, but into one that is actually disadvantageous; the trade which cannot be carried on but by means of a bounty being necessarily a losing trade. The bounty upon the exportation of corn is liable to this further objection, that it can in no respect promote the raising of that particular commodity of which it was meant to encourage the production. When our country gentlemen, therefore, demanded the establishment of the bounty, though they acted in imitation of our merchants and manufacturers, they did not act with that complete comprehension of their own interest, which commonly directs the conduct of those two other orders of people. They loaded the public revenue with a very considerable expense: they imposed a very heavy tax upon the whole body of the people; but they did not, in any sensible degree, increase the real value of their own commodity; and by lowering somewhat the real value of silver, they discouraged, in some degree, the general industry of the country, and, instead of advancing, retarded more or less the improvement of their own lands, which necessarily depend upon the general industry of the country.
To encourage the production of any commodity, a bounty upon production, one should imagine, would have a more direct operation than one upon exportation. It would, besides, impose only one tax upon the people, that which they must contribute in order to pay the bounty. Instead of raising, it would tend to lower the price of the commodity in the home market; and thereby, instead of imposing a second tax upon the people, it might, at least in part, repay them for what they had contributed to the first. Bounties upon production, however, have been very rarely granted. The prejudices established by the commercial system have taught us to believe, that national wealth arises more immediately from exportation than from production. It has been more favoured, accordingly, as the more immediate means of bringing money into the country. Bounties upon production, it has been said too, have been found by experience more liable to frauds than those upon exportation. How far this is true, I know not. That bounties upon exportation have been abused, to many fraudulent purposes, is very well known. But it is not the interest of merchants and manufacturers, the great inventors of all these expedients, that the home market should be overstocked with their goods; an event which a bounty upon production might sometimes occasion. A bounty upon exportation, by enabling them to send abroad their surplus part, and to keep up the price of what remains in the home market, effectually prevents this. Of all the expedients of the mercantile system, accordingly, it is the one of which they are the fondest. I have known the different undertakers of some particular works agree privately among themselves to give a bounty out of their own pockets upon the exportation of a certain proportion of the goods which they dealt in. This expedient succeeded so well, that it more than doubled the price of their goods in the home market, notwithstanding a very considerable increase in the produce. The operation of the bounty upon corn must have been wonderfully different, if it has lowered the money price of that commodity.
Something like a bounty upon production, however, has been granted upon some particular occasions. The tonnage bounties given to the white herring and whale fisheries may, perhaps, be considered as somewhat of this nature. They tend directly, it may be supposed, to render the goods cheaper in the home market than they otherwise would be. In other respects, their effects, it must be acknowledged, are the same as those of bounties upon exportation. By means of them, a part of the capital of the country is employed in bringing goods to market, of which the price does not repay the cost, together with the ordinary profits of stock.
But though the tonnage bounties to those fisheries do not contribute to the opulence of the nation, it may, perhaps, be thought that they contribute to its defence, by augmenting the number of its sailors and shipping. This, it may be alleged, may sometimes be done by means of such bounties, at a much smaller expense than by keeping up a great standing navy, if I may use such an expression, in the same way as a standing army.
English
Spain taxes the export of gold and silver, while Portugal prohibits it. Both measures burden export with the cost of smuggling, raising the value of those metals in other countries above their value at home by the full amount of that cost. When a stream is dammed, once the reservoir is full, as much water must flow over the dam as would have flowed without it. A prohibition on export cannot keep in Spain and Portugal more gold and silver than they can afford to employ—more than the annual produce of their land and labor allows them to use—in coin, plate, gilding, and other ornaments of gold and silver. Once they have that quantity, the reservoir is full, and every additional inflow must spill over. Accordingly, despite these restraints, the annual export of gold and silver from Spain and Portugal is, by all accounts, very nearly equal to the whole annual import. Yet water must always stand deeper behind the dam than below it. So, in proportion to the annual produce of their land and labor, the quantity of gold and silver retained by these restraints in Spain and Portugal must exceed what is found in other countries. The higher and stronger the dam, the greater the difference between the depths on either side. The higher the tax, the harsher the penalties protecting the prohibition, and the more vigilant and severe the police enforcing the law, the greater must be the difference between the proportion of gold and silver to the annual produce of land and labor in Spain and Portugal and the corresponding proportion elsewhere. That difference is said to be considerable: one often finds a profusion of plate in houses possessing nothing else that other countries would consider fitting for such magnificence. The cheapness of gold and silver—or, what amounts to the same thing, the high price of all commodities—necessarily follows from this excess of precious metals. It discourages agriculture and manufactures in Spain and Portugal, while allowing foreign nations to furnish them with many kinds of raw produce and almost every kind of manufactured product for less gold and silver than they themselves could use to grow or make them at home. The tax and prohibition work in two ways. They greatly reduce the value of precious metals in Spain and Portugal; and, by holding back metals that would otherwise flow into other countries, they keep their value in those countries somewhat higher than it would be, giving those countries a double advantage in trade with Spain and Portugal. Open the floodgates, and there will soon be less water above the dam and more below, until both sides approach the same level. Remove the tax and prohibition, and gold and silver will decrease considerably in Spain and Portugal and increase somewhat elsewhere. Their value—their proportion to the annual produce of land and labor—will soon become equal, or nearly so, everywhere. Any loss Spain and Portugal suffered through this export of their gold and silver would be merely nominal and imaginary. The nominal value of their goods and of the annual produce of their land and labor would fall, and would be expressed in a smaller quantity of silver than before. But their real value would remain unchanged, sufficient to maintain, command, and employ the same quantity of labor. As the nominal value of their goods fell, the real value of the gold and silver remaining at home would rise, and fewer of these metals would serve all the purposes of commerce and circulation that had previously required more. The gold and silver sent abroad would not be given away: they would bring back goods of equal value. Nor would all those goods be mere luxuries and expenses, consumed by idle people who produce nothing in return. Since this extraordinary export would not increase the real wealth and revenue of idle people, it would not substantially increase their consumption either. Most of the goods brought back, probably, and some of them certainly, would consist of materials, tools, and provisions to employ and support industrious people, who would reproduce the full value of what they consumed, together with a profit. Part of society’s dead stock would thus become active stock, setting more industry in motion than before. The annual produce of their land and labor would immediately increase a little and, within a few years, probably increase greatly, as their industry was relieved of one of the most oppressive burdens it now bears.
The bounty on corn exports necessarily works in precisely the same way as this absurd policy of Spain and Portugal. Whatever the current state of cultivation, it makes our corn somewhat dearer in the home market than it would otherwise be in that state, and somewhat cheaper abroad. And because the average money price of corn more or less governs that of all other commodities, the bounty considerably reduces the value of silver at home and tends to raise it a little abroad. It lets foreigners, particularly the Dutch, not only eat our corn more cheaply than they otherwise could but sometimes eat it more cheaply than our own people can in the same circumstances, as we are assured by an excellent authority, Sir Matthew Decker. It prevents our workmen from offering their goods for as little silver as they otherwise might, while enabling the Dutch to offer theirs for less. It tends to make our manufactures somewhat dearer in every market and theirs somewhat cheaper, giving their industry a double advantage over ours.
In the home market the bounty raises not so much the real as the nominal price of our corn. It increases not the amount of labor that a given quantity of corn can maintain and employ, but only the amount of silver for which it can be exchanged. Thus it discourages our manufactures without rendering any substantial service either to our farmers or to our country gentlemen. It does put a little more money in the pockets of both, and it may be hard to persuade most of them that this is not a substantial service. But if that money loses as much in value—in the labor, provisions, and domestically made goods of every kind it can buy—as its quantity increases, the benefit is little more than nominal and imaginary.
Perhaps only one group in the whole commonwealth has received, or could receive, any essential benefit from the bounty: the corn merchants, exporters and importers alike. In abundant years the bounty necessarily caused more corn to be exported than otherwise would have been. By preventing one year’s abundance from easing another year’s scarcity, it then made greater imports necessary in scarce years. It increased the corn merchant’s business in both circumstances; in scarce years it enabled him not only to import more, but to sell at a higher price and therefore a greater profit than he could have earned if one year’s abundance had not been prevented, to some extent, from relieving another year’s scarcity. Accordingly, it is among this group that I have observed the greatest zeal for continuing or renewing the bounty.
When our country gentlemen imposed high duties on the export of foreign corn—duties that amount to a prohibition in times of moderate plenty—and established the bounty, they seem to have copied our manufacturers. By the first measure they secured a monopoly of the home market; by the second they tried to prevent that market from ever being flooded with their commodity. Through both measures they sought to raise its real value, just as manufacturers had used similar measures to raise the real value of many kinds of manufactured goods. They may have overlooked the great and essential difference nature has established between corn and almost every other kind of goods. When a monopoly of the home market or an export bounty lets our woolen or linen manufacturers sell at a somewhat higher price than they otherwise could, it raises both the nominal and the real price of their goods. Those goods become equivalent to more labor and subsistence. The manufacturers gain not only in nominal but in real profit, real wealth, and revenue; they can either live better themselves or employ more labor in those manufactures. You genuinely encourage these manufactures and direct toward them more of the country’s industry than would naturally go there. But when similar measures raise the nominal or money price of corn, they do not raise its real value, increase the real wealth or revenue of farmers or country gentlemen, or encourage corn production: they do not enable its growers to maintain and employ more laborers. Nature has set upon corn a real value that a mere change in its money price cannot alter. No export bounty or monopoly of the home market can raise that value; the freest competition cannot lower it. Throughout the world in general, that value equals the quantity of labor corn can maintain; in each particular place, it equals the quantity of labor it can maintain at the customary level of subsistence there, whether generous, moderate, or scanty. Woolen and linen cloth are not the standards by which the real value of every other commodity must ultimately be measured and determined; corn is. The real value of every other commodity is ultimately measured and determined by the relation of its average money price to the average money price of corn. Corn’s real value does not change with the variations in its average money price that sometimes occur from century to century; it is the real value of silver that changes.
Bounties on the export of any homemade commodity face, first, the general objection applicable to all the devices of the mercantile system: they force some of the country’s industry into a less advantageous channel than it would naturally follow. They face, second, a particular objection: they force industry not merely into a less advantageous channel, but into an actually disadvantageous one, since a trade that cannot be carried on without a bounty must be a losing trade. The corn-export bounty faces the additional objection that it cannot in any way promote the raising of the very commodity whose production it was intended to encourage. Thus, when our country gentlemen demanded this bounty, they imitated our merchants and manufacturers without the thorough understanding of their own interests that commonly guides those other two groups. They burdened the public revenue with a very substantial expense and imposed a heavy tax on the whole people, yet did not noticeably increase the real value of their commodity. By somewhat lowering the real value of silver, they also discouraged the country’s industry to a degree; instead of advancing the improvement of their own lands, which necessarily depends on that general industry, they retarded it to some extent.
To encourage the production of a commodity, a bounty on production would seem to work more directly than one on export. It would also impose just one tax on the people: what they must contribute to fund the bounty. Rather than raise the commodity’s price in the home market, it would tend to lower it, and might thereby repay the people, at least in part, for their first contribution instead of imposing a second tax on them. Yet production bounties have been granted very rarely. The prejudices fostered by the commercial system have taught us that national wealth comes more directly from exports than from production. Exports have accordingly received more favor as the more immediate means of bringing money into the country. It has also been said that experience finds production bounties more open to fraud than export bounties. I do not know how far this is true. It is well known, however, that export bounties have been put to many fraudulent uses. But merchants and manufacturers, the great inventors of all these devices, have no interest in flooding the home market with their goods, as a production bounty might sometimes do. An export bounty lets them send their surplus abroad and preserve the price of what remains at home, effectively preventing that outcome. Hence, of all the mercantile system’s devices, this is the one they favor most. I have known operators of particular works to agree privately to pay, from their own pockets, a bounty on the export of a certain proportion of the goods they handled. This worked so well that it more than doubled the home-market price of their goods, despite a very substantial increase in output. The corn bounty must have behaved in a remarkably different fashion if it has lowered that commodity’s money price.
Something resembling a production bounty has, however, been granted on particular occasions. The tonnage bounties paid to the white-herring and whale fisheries may perhaps be regarded as such. They might be expected to make the goods cheaper in the home market than they would otherwise be. In other respects, admittedly, their effects match those of export bounties. They cause part of the country’s capital to be employed in bringing to market goods whose price does not repay their cost together with the ordinary profits of stock.
Though the tonnage bounties for these fisheries do not add to national wealth, it may be thought that they contribute to defense by increasing the number of sailors and ships. It may be argued that such bounties can sometimes achieve this at much less expense than maintaining a great standing navy, if I may use the expression, on the model of a standing army.
Book IV, Chapter V, 3
18th-century English
Notwithstanding these favourable allegations, however, the following considerations dispose me to believe, that in granting at least one of these bounties, the legislature has been very grossly imposed upon:
First, The herring-buss bounty seems too large.
From the commencement of the winter fishing 1771, to the end of the winter fishing 1781, the tonnage bounty upon the herring-buss fishery has been at thirty shillings the ton. During these eleven years, the whole number of barrels caught by the herring-buss fishery of Scotland amounted to 378,347. The herrings caught and cured at sea are called sea-sticks. In order to render them what are called merchantable herrings, it is necessary to repack them with an additional quantity of salt; and in this case, it is reckoned, that three barrels of sea-sticks are usually repacked into two barrels of merchantable herrings. The number of barrels of merchantable herrings, therefore, caught during these eleven years, will amount only, according to this account, to 252,231¼. During these eleven years, the tonnage bounties paid amounted to £155,463:11s. or 8s:2¼d. upon every barrel of sea-sticks, and to 12s:3¾d. upon every barrel of merchantable herrings.
The salt with which these herrings are cured is sometimes Scotch, and sometimes foreign salt; both which are delivered, free of all excise duty, to the fish-curers. The excise duty upon Scotch salt is at present 1s:6d., that upon foreign salt 10s. the bushel. A barrel of herrings is supposed to require about one bushel and one-fourth of a bushel foreign salt. Two bushels are the supposed average of Scotch salt. If the herrings are entered for exportation, no part of this duty is paid up; if entered for home consumption, whether the herrings were cured with foreign or with Scotch salt, only one shilling the barrel is paid up. It was the old Scotch duty upon a bushel of salt, the quantity which, at a low estimation, had been supposed necessary for curing a barrel of herrings. In Scotland, foreign salt is very little used for any other purpose but the curing of fish. But from the 5th April 1771 to the 5th April 1782, the quantity of foreign salt imported amounted to 936,974 bushels, at eighty-four pounds the bushel; the quantity of Scotch salt delivered from the works to the fish-curers, to no more than 168,226, at fifty-six pounds the bushel only. It would appear, therefore, that it is principally foreign salt that is used in the fisheries. Upon every barrel of herrings exported, there is, besides, a bounty of 2s:8d. and more than two-thirds of the buss-caught herrings are exported. Put all these things together, and you will find that, during these eleven years, every barrel of buss-caught herrings, cured with Scotch salt, when exported, has cost government 17s:11¾d.; and, when entered for home consumption, 14s:3¾d.; and that every barrel cured with foreign salt, when exported, has cost government £1:7:5¾d.; and, when entered for home consumption, £1:3:9¾d. The price of a barrel of good merchantable herrings runs from seventeen and eighteen to four and five-and-twenty shillings; about a guinea at an average. {See the accounts at the end of this Book.}
Secondly, The bounty to the white-herring fishery is a tonnage bounty, and is proportioned to the burden of the ship, not to her diligence or success in the fishery; and it has, I am afraid, been too common for the vessels to fit out for the sole purpose of catching, not the fish but the bounty. In the year 1759, when the bounty was at fifty shillings the ton, the whole buss fishery of Scotland brought in only four barrels of sea-sticks. In that year, each barrel of sea-sticks cost government, in bounties alone, £113:15s.; each barrel of merchantable herrings £159:7:6.
Thirdly, The mode of fishing, for which this tonnage bounty in the white herring fishery has been given (by busses or decked vessels from twenty to eighty tons burden ), seems not so well adapted to the situation of Scotland, as to that of Holland, from the practice of which country it appears to have been borrowed. Holland lies at a great distance from the seas to which herrings are known principally to resort, and can, therefore, carry on that fishery only in decked vessels, which can carry water and provisions sufficient for a voyage to a distant sea; but the Hebrides, or Western Islands, the islands of Shetland, and the northern and north-western coasts of Scotland, the countries in whose neighbourhood the herring fishery is principally carried on, are everywhere intersected by arms of the sea, which run up a considerable way into the land, and which, in the language of the country, are called sea-lochs. It is to these sea-lochs that the herrings principally resort during the seasons in which they visit these seas; for the visits of this, and, I am assured, of many other sorts of fish, are not quite regular and constant. A boat-fishery, therefore, seems to be the mode of fishing best adapted to the peculiar situation of Scotland, the fishers carrying the herrings on shore as fast as they are taken, to be either cured or consumed fresh. But the great encouragement which a bounty of 30s. the ton gives to the buss-fishery, is necessarily a discouragement to the boat-fishery, which, having no such bounty, cannot bring its cured fish to market upon the same terms as the buss-fishery. The boat-fishery; accordingly, which, before the establishment of the buss-bounty, was very considerable, and is said to have employed a number of seamen, not inferior to what the buss-fishery employs at present, is now gone almost entirely to decay. Of the former extent, however, of this now ruined and abandoned fishery, I must acknowledge that I cannot pretend to speak with much precision. As no bounty was-paid upon the outfit of the boat-fishery, no account was taken of it by the officers of the customs or salt duties.
Fourthly, In many parts of Scotland, during certain seasons of the year, herrings make no inconsiderable part of the food of the common people. A bounty which tended to lower their price in the home market, might contribute a good deal to the relief of a great number of our fellow-subjects, whose circumstances are by no means affluent. But the herring-bus bounty contributes to no such good purpose. It has ruined the boat fishery, which is by far the best adapted for the supply of the home market; and the additional bounty of 2s:8d. the barrel upon exportation, carries the greater part, more than two-thirds, of the produce of the buss-fishery abroad. Between thirty and forty years ago, before the establishment of the buss-bounty, 16s. the barrel, I have been assured, was the common price of white herrings. Between ten and fifteen years ago, before the boat-fishery was entirely ruined, the price was said to have run from seventeen to twenty shillings the barrel. For these last five years, it has, at an average, been at twenty-five shillings the barrel. This high price, however, may have been owing to the real scarcity of the herrings upon the coast of Scotland. I must observe, too, that the cask or barrel, which is usually sold with the herrings, and of which the price is included in all the foregoing prices, has, since the commencement of the American war, risen to about double its former price, or from about 3s. to about 6s. I must likewise observe, that the accounts I have received of the prices of former times, have been by no means quite uniform and consistent, and an old man of great accuracy and experience has assured me, that, more than fifty years ago, a guinea was the usual price of a barrel of good merchantable herrings; and this, I imagine, may still be looked upon as the average price. All accounts, however, I think, agree that the price has not been lowered in the home market in consequence of the buss-bounty.
When the undertakers of fisheries, after such liberal bounties have been bestowed upon them, continue to sell their commodity at the same, or even at a higher price than they were accustomed to do before, it might be expected that their profits should be very great; and it is not improbable that those of some individuals may have been so. In general, however, I have every reason to believe they have been quite otherwise. The usual effect of such bounties is, to encourage rash undertakers to adventure in a business which they do not understand; and what they lose by their own negligence and ignorance, more than compensates all that they can gain by the utmost liberality of government. In 1750, by the same act which first gave the bounty of 30s. the ton for the encouragement of the white herring fishery (the 23d Geo. II. chap. 24), a joint stock company was erected, with a capital of £500,000, to which the subscribers (over and above all other encouragements, the tonnage bounty just now mentioned, the exportation bounty of 2s:8d. the barrel, the delivery of both British and foreign salt duty free) were, during the space of fourteen years, for every hundred pounds which they subscribed and paid into the stock of the society, entitled to three pounds a-year, to be paid by the receiver-general of the customs in equal half-yearly payments. Besides this great company, the residence of whose governor and directors was to be in London, it was declared lawful to erect different fishing chambers in all the different out-ports of the kingdom, provided a sum not less than £10,000 was subscribed into the capital of each, to be managed at its own risk, and for its own profit and loss. The same annuity, and the same encouragements of all kinds, were given to the trade of those inferior chambers as to that of the great company. The subscription of the great company was soon filled up, and several different fishing chambers were erected in the different out-ports of the kingdom. In spite of all these encouragements, almost all those different companies, both great and small, lost either the whole or the greater part of their capitals; scarce a vestige now remains of any of them, and the white-herring fishery is now entirely, or almost entirely, carried on by private adventurers.
If any particular manufacture was necessary, indeed, for the defence of the society, it might not always be prudent to depend upon our neighbours for the supply; and if such manufacture could not otherwise be supported at home, it might not be unreasonable that all the other branches of industry should be taxed in order to support it. The bounties upon the exportation of British made sail-cloth, and British made gunpowder, may, perhaps, both be vindicated upon this principle.
But though it can very seldom be reasonable to tax the industry of the great body of the people, in order to support that of some particular class of manufacturers; yet, in the wantonness of great prosperity, when the public enjoys a greater revenue than it knows well what to do with, to give such bounties to favourite manufactures, may, perhaps, be as natural as to incur any other idle expense. In public, as well as in private expenses, great wealth, may, perhaps, frequently be admitted as an apology for great folly. But there must surely be something more than ordinary absurdity in continuing such profusion in times of general difficulty and distress.
What is called a bounty, is sometimes no more than a drawback, and, consequently, is not liable to the same objections as what is properly a bounty. The bounty, for example, upon refined sugar exported, may be considered as a drawback of the duties upon the brown and Muscovado sugars, from which it is made; the bounty upon wrought silk exported, a drawback of the duties upon raw and thrown silk imported; the bounty upon gunpowder exported, a drawback of the duties upon brimstone and saltpetre imported. In the language of the customs, those allowances only are called drawbacks which are given upon goods exported in the same form in which they are imported. When that form has been so altered by manufacture of any kind as to come under a new denomination, they are called bounties.
Premiums given by the public to artists and manufacturers, who excel in their particular occupations, are not liable to the same objections as bounties. By encouraging extraordinary dexterity and ingenuity, they serve to keep up the emulation of the workmen actually employed in those respective occupations, and are not considerable enough to turn towards any one of them a greater share of the capital of the country than what would go to it of its own accord. Their tendency is not to overturn the natural balance of employments, but to render the work which is done in each as perfect and complete as possible. The expense of premiums, besides, is very trifling, that of bounties very great. The bounty upon corn alone has sometimes cost the public, in one year, more than £300,000.
Bounties are sometimes called premiums, as drawbacks are sometimes called bounties. But we must, in all cases, attend to the nature of the thing, without paying any regard to the word.
Digression concerning the Corn Trade and Corn Laws.
I cannot conclude this chapter concerning bounties, without observing, that the praises which have been bestowed upon the law which establishes the bounty upon the exportation of corn, and upon that system of regulations which is connected with it, are altogether unmerited. A particular examination of the nature of the corn trade, and of the principal British laws which relate to it, will sufficiently demonstrate the truth of this assertion. The great importance of this subject must justify the length of the digression.
The trade of the corn merchant is composed of four different branches, which, though they may sometimes be all carried on by the same person, are, in their own nature, four separate and distinct trades. These are, first, the trade of the inland dealer; secondly, that of the merchant-importer for home consumption; thirdly, that of the merchant-exporter of home produce for foreign consumption; and, fourthly, that of the merchant-carrier, or of the importer of corn, in order to export it again.
I. The interest of the inland dealer, and that of the great body of the people, how opposite soever they may at first appear, are, even in years of the greatest scarcity, exactly the same. It is his interest to raise the price of his corn as high as the real scarcity of the season requires, and it can never be his interest to raise it higher. By raising the price, he discourages the consumption, and puts every body more or less, but particularly the inferior ranks of people, upon thrift and good management. If, by raising it too high, he discourages the consumption so much that the supply of the season is likely to go beyond the consumption of the season, and to last for some time after the next crop begins to come in, he runs the hazard, not only of losing a considerable part of his corn by natural causes, but of being obliged to sell what remains of it for much less than what he might have had for it several months before. If, by not raising the price high enough, he discourages the consumption so little, that the supply of the season is likely to fall short of the consumption of the season, he not only loses a part of the profit which he might otherwise have made, but he exposes the people to suffer before the end of the season, instead of the hardships of a dearth, the dreadful horrors of a famine. It is the interest of the people that their daily, weekly, and monthly consumption should be proportioned as exactly as possible to the supply of the season. The interest of the inland corn dealer is the same. By supplying them, as nearly as he can judge, in this proportion, he is likely to sell all his corn for the highest price, and with the greatest profit; and his knowledge of the state of the crop, and of his daily, weekly, and monthly sales, enables him to judge, with more or less accuracy, how far they really are supplied in this manner. Without intending the interest of the people, he is necessarily led, by a regard to his own interest, to treat them, even in years of scarcity, pretty much in the same manner as the prudent master of a vessel is sometimes obliged to treat his crew. When he foresees that provisions are likely to run short, he puts them upon short allowance. Though from excess of caution he should sometimes do this without any real necessity, yet all the inconveniencies which his crew can thereby suffer are inconsiderable, in comparison of the danger, misery, and ruin, to which they might sometimes be exposed by a less provident conduct. Though, from excess of avarice, in the same manner, the inland corn merchant should sometimes raise the price of his corn somewhat higher than the scarcity of the season requires, yet all the inconveniencies which the people can suffer from this conduct, which effectually secures them from a famine in the end of the season, are inconsiderable, in comparison of what they might have been exposed to by a more liberal way of dealing in the beginning of it the corn merchant himself is likely to suffer the most by this excess of avarice; not only from the indignation which it generally excites against him, but, though he should escape the effects of this indignation, from the quantity of corn which it necessarily leaves upon his hands in the end of the season, and which, if the next season happens to prove favourable, he must always sell for a much lower price than he might otherwise have had.
English
Despite these favorable arguments, the following considerations lead me to believe that, in granting at least one of these bounties, the legislature has been grossly deceived:
First, the herring-buss bounty seems too large.
From the beginning of winter fishing in 1771 to its end in 1781, the tonnage bounty for herring-buss fishing was thirty shillings per ton. During these eleven years, the Scottish herring-buss fishery caught a total of 378,347 barrels. Herrings caught and cured at sea are called sea-sticks. To make them what are called merchantable herrings, they must be repacked with additional salt; it is reckoned that three barrels of sea-sticks generally make two barrels of merchantable herrings. Thus, on this reckoning, only 252,231¼ barrels of merchantable herrings were caught during these eleven years. The tonnage bounties paid in that period totaled £155,463:11s., or 8s:2¼d. per barrel of sea-sticks and 12s:3¾d. per barrel of merchantable herrings.
These herrings are cured sometimes with Scotch salt and sometimes with foreign salt, both supplied to fish-curers free of all excise duty. The excise duty on Scotch salt is currently 1s:6d. per bushel; on foreign salt, 10s. A barrel of herrings supposedly requires about one and one-fourth bushels of foreign salt, or an average of two bushels of Scotch salt. When herrings are entered for export, none of this duty is paid; when entered for domestic consumption, only one shilling per barrel is paid, whether Scotch or foreign salt was used. This was the old Scotch duty on a bushel of salt, the amount that a low estimate had assumed necessary to cure a barrel of herrings. In Scotland foreign salt has little use other than curing fish. Yet between the 5th April 1771 and the 5th April 1782, 936,974 bushels of foreign salt were imported, at eighty-four pounds per bushel, while only 168,226 bushels of Scotch salt, at fifty-six pounds per bushel, were supplied from the works to fish-curers. Foreign salt, then, appears to be used principally in the fisheries. In addition, each barrel of herrings exported receives a bounty of 2s:8d., and more than two-thirds of the herrings caught by busses are exported. Taken together, these figures show that during those eleven years every exported barrel of buss-caught herrings cured with Scotch salt cost the government 17s:11¾d., and every such barrel entered for domestic consumption 14s:3¾d.; each exported barrel cured with foreign salt cost £1:7:5¾d., and each such barrel entered for domestic consumption £1:3:9¾d. A barrel of good merchantable herrings sells for anywhere from seventeen and eighteen to four and five-and-twenty shillings, about a guinea on average. [See the accounts at the end of this Book.]
Secondly, the bounty for the white-herring fishery is a tonnage bounty, proportioned to the ship’s burden rather than her diligence or success in fishing. I fear it has been all too common for vessels to fit out solely to catch, not fish, but the bounty. In 1759, when the bounty was fifty shillings a ton, the entire Scottish buss fishery brought in only four barrels of sea-sticks. That year, each barrel of sea-sticks cost the government £113:15s. in bounties alone; each barrel of merchantable herrings, £159:7:6.
Thirdly, the method of fishing subsidized by this tonnage bounty for white herrings—busses, or decked vessels of twenty to eighty tons burden—appears less suited to Scotland than to Holland, whose practice it seems to have copied. Holland is far from the seas where herrings chiefly gather, and therefore can pursue this fishery only with decked vessels carrying enough water and provisions for a voyage to distant waters. But the Hebrides, or Western Islands, the Shetland islands, and the northern and northwestern coasts of Scotland—the regions around which the herring fishery principally takes place—are everywhere cut by arms of the sea extending far inland, called sea-lochs in local speech. Herrings chiefly enter these sea-lochs during the seasons when they visit these waters; their visits, and those of many other kinds of fish, I am assured, are not perfectly regular or constant. Fishing by boat therefore seems best adapted to Scotland’s particular situation: fishers bring their herrings ashore as soon as they are caught, to be cured or eaten fresh. But the powerful encouragement that a bounty of 30s. a ton gives to buss fishing necessarily discourages boat fishing. Without a comparable bounty, the boat fishery cannot bring its cured fish to market on the same terms. Before the buss bounty was established, boat fishing was very substantial and is said to have employed no fewer sailors than buss fishing employs today. It has now fallen into almost complete decay. I must admit, however, that I cannot speak very precisely about the former extent of this now ruined and abandoned fishery. Because no bounty was paid for fitting out boats, the customs and salt-duty officers kept no account of it.
Fourthly, during certain seasons herrings form a significant part of the ordinary people’s food in many parts of Scotland. A bounty that lowered their price in the home market might greatly relieve many of our fellow subjects, who are far from prosperous. But the herring-buss bounty serves no such purpose. It has ruined boat fishing, by far the method best suited to supplying the home market; and the additional export bounty of 2s:8d. a barrel sends most of the buss fishery’s produce—more than two-thirds—abroad. I have been assured that between thirty and forty years ago, before the buss bounty, the usual price of white herrings was 16s. a barrel. Between ten and fifteen years ago, before boat fishing was entirely ruined, it reportedly ranged from seventeen to twenty shillings a barrel. For the past five years the average has been twenty-five shillings a barrel. This high price may, however, be due to a real scarcity of herrings off Scotland’s coast. I must also note that since the American war began, the cask or barrel, usually sold with the herrings and included in all the prices given above, has risen to about twice its former price, from about 3s. to about 6s. Moreover, the accounts I have received of earlier prices have been far from consistent: an old man of great accuracy and experience has assured me that more than fifty years ago a guinea was the usual price of a barrel of good merchantable herrings. This, I think, may still be taken as the average price. But all accounts, I believe, agree that the buss bounty has not lowered the home-market price.
When fishing operators, despite such generous bounties, continue to sell at the same price as before, or even a higher one, we might expect their profits to be very great; perhaps those of some individuals have been. In general, however, I have every reason to believe the contrary. Such bounties usually encourage rash operators to venture into a business they do not understand; their negligence and ignorance cost them more than the utmost generosity of government can give them. In 1750, the act that first awarded 30s. a ton to encourage the white-herring fishery (the 23d Geo. II. chap. 24) also established a joint-stock company with a capital of £500,000. Beyond all other inducements—the tonnage bounty already mentioned, the export bounty of 2s:8d. a barrel, and the duty-free supply of both British and foreign salt—subscribers who paid money into the company’s stock were entitled, for fourteen years, to three pounds a year for every hundred pounds subscribed, payable by the receiver-general of customs in equal half-yearly installments. In addition to this great company, whose governor and directors were to reside in London, separate fishing chambers could legally be established at every out-port in the kingdom, provided at least £10,000 was subscribed to each chamber’s capital. Each would operate at its own risk, for its own profit or loss. The trade of these smaller chambers received the same annuity and every other inducement given to the great company. The great company’s subscription was soon filled, and several chambers were established in the kingdom’s various out-ports. Despite all these incentives, nearly all the companies, large and small, lost all or most of their capital. Hardly a trace of any remains, and the white-herring fishery is now conducted entirely, or almost entirely, by private adventurers.
If a particular manufacture were necessary for society’s defense, it might indeed not always be prudent to rely on our neighbors for its supply. If it could not otherwise be supported at home, taxing all other branches of industry to support it might not be unreasonable. The bounties on exports of British-made sailcloth and British-made gunpowder might perhaps be defended on this ground.
Though taxing the industry of the great body of the people to support a particular class of manufacturers can very rarely be reasonable, prosperity may tempt a public with more revenue than it knows how to spend to give such bounties to favorite manufactures, just as it might incur any other idle expense. In public as in private expenditure, great wealth may often excuse great folly. But continuing such extravagance in a time of general hardship and distress must surely be absurd beyond the ordinary.
What is called a bounty is sometimes merely a drawback, and therefore not open to the objections properly directed against bounties. For example, the bounty on exports of refined sugar may be regarded as a drawback of duties on the brown and Muscovado sugars from which it is made; the bounty on wrought-silk exports, as a drawback of duties on imported raw and thrown silk; and the bounty on exported gunpowder, as a drawback of duties on imported brimstone and saltpeter. In customs terminology, only allowances on goods exported in the same form in which they were imported are called drawbacks. If manufacture changes their form enough to give them a new name, the allowances are called bounties.
Public prizes awarded to artists and manufacturers who excel at their respective occupations are not subject to the same objections as bounties. By encouraging exceptional skill and ingenuity, they sustain competition among workmen already employed in those occupations, yet are too small to divert into any one of them more of the country’s capital than would naturally go there. They tend not to overturn the natural balance of employments but to make the work done in each as perfect and complete as possible. Moreover, the cost of prizes is trifling, while that of bounties is immense. The corn bounty alone has sometimes cost the public more than £300,000 in a single year.
Bounties are sometimes called prizes, just as drawbacks are sometimes called bounties. In every case we must look to the nature of the thing, not its name.
Digression concerning the Corn Trade and Corn Laws.
I cannot end this chapter on bounties without observing that the praise bestowed on the law establishing the corn-export bounty, and on its associated system of regulations, is entirely undeserved. A closer examination of the corn trade and the chief British laws concerning it will sufficiently demonstrate this claim. The great importance of the subject must excuse the length of the digression.
The corn merchant’s trade has four branches. Though one person may sometimes undertake all four, they are by their nature distinct trades: first, that of the inland dealer; secondly, that of the importer for domestic consumption; thirdly, that of the exporter of domestic produce for foreign consumption; and fourthly, that of the carrying merchant, who imports corn in order to export it again.
I. The interest of the inland dealer and the interest of the people at large, however opposed they may initially appear, coincide exactly even in years of the greatest scarcity. It is in his interest to raise the price of his corn as high as the season’s actual scarcity requires, but never higher. By raising it he discourages consumption, obliging everyone to practice thrift and careful management to some degree, especially the poorer ranks. If he raises it so high that the season’s supply is likely to outlast the season’s consumption and remain when the next harvest begins, he risks both losing a substantial portion of his corn through natural causes and having to sell the rest for far less than he could have obtained several months earlier. If he fails to raise it enough, so that consumption is discouraged too little and the season’s supply will run short, he both forfeits some of the profit he could otherwise have made and exposes the people, before the season ends, not merely to the hardships of dearth but to the dreadful horrors of famine. The people’s interest is to make daily, weekly, and monthly consumption correspond as closely as possible to the season’s supply. The inland dealer’s interest is the same. By supplying them in this proportion as nearly as he can judge, he is likely to sell all his corn at the highest price and greatest profit. His knowledge of the harvest and his daily, weekly, and monthly sales enables him to estimate, with some accuracy, whether they are indeed being supplied in this way. Without seeking to serve the people’s interest, his own interest necessarily leads him, even in years of scarcity, to treat them much as a prudent ship’s master must sometimes treat his crew. When the master foresees a shortage of provisions, he puts the crew on reduced rations. If excess caution sometimes makes him do so needlessly, the discomfort they suffer is insignificant compared with the danger, misery, and ruin to which less foresight might expose them. Similarly, even if excessive avarice sometimes makes the inland merchant raise corn prices somewhat beyond what the season’s scarcity requires, the inconveniences the people suffer under a policy that effectively protects them from famine at the season’s end are insignificant beside what more liberal dealing at its beginning might bring upon them. The merchant himself is likely to suffer most from this excessive avarice: not only from the indignation it commonly arouses against him, but, even if he escapes its effects, from the corn it necessarily leaves on his hands at the season’s end. If the next season is favorable, he must sell that corn for far less than he otherwise could have obtained.
Book IV, Chapter V, 4
18th-century English
Were it possible, indeed, for one great company of merchants to possess themselves of the whole crop of an extensive country, it might perhaps be their interest to deal with it, as the Dutch are said to do with the spiceries of the Moluccas, to destroy or throw away a considerable part of it, in order to keep up the price of the rest. But it is scarce possible, even by the violence of law, to establish such an extensive monopoly with regard to corn; and wherever the law leaves the trade free, it is of all commodities the least liable to be engrossed or monopolised by the force a few large capitals, which buy up the greater part of it. Not only its value far exceeds what the capitals of a few private men are capable of purchasing; but, supposing they were capable of purchasing it, the manner in which it is produced renders this purchase altogether impracticable. As, in every civilized country, it is the commodity of which the annual consumption is the greatest; so a greater quantity of industry is annually employed in producing corn than in producing any other commodity. When it first comes from the ground, too, it is necessarily divided among a greater number of owners than any other commodity; and these owners can never be collected into one place, like a number of independent manufacturers, but are necessarily scattered through all the different corners of the country. These first owners either immediately supply the consumers in their own neighbourhood, or they supply other inland dealers, who supply those consumers. The inland dealers in corn, therefore, including both the farmer and the baker, are necessarily more numerous than the dealers in any other commodity; and their dispersed situation renders it altogether impossible for them to enter into any general combination. If, in a year of scarcity, therefore, any of them should find that he had a good deal more corn upon hand than, at the current price, he could hope to dispose of before the end of the season, he would never think of keeping up this price to his own loss, and to the sole benefit of his rivals and competitors, but would immediately lower it, in order to get rid of his corn before the new crop began to come in. The same motives, the same interests, which would thus regulate the conduct of any one dealer, would regulate that of every other, and oblige them all in general to sell their corn at the price which, according to the best of their judgment, was most suitable to the scarcity or plenty of the season.
Whoever examines, with attention, the history of the dearths and famines which have afflicted any part of Europe during either the course of the present or that of the two preceding centuries, of several of which we have pretty exact accounts, will find, I believe, that a dearth never has arisen from any combination among the inland dealers in corn, nor from any other cause but a real scarcity, occasioned sometimes, perhaps, and in some particular places, by the waste of war, but in by far the greatest number of cases by the fault of the seasons; and that a famine has never arisen from any other cause but the violence of government attempting, by improper means, to remedy the inconveniencies of a dearth.
In an extensive corn country, between all the different parts of which there is a free commerce and communication, the scarcity occasioned by the most unfavourable seasons can never be so great as to produce a famine; and the scantiest crop, if managed with frugality and economy, will maintain, through the year, the same number of people that are commonly fed in a more affluent manner by one of moderate plenty. The seasons most unfavourable to the crop are those of excessive drought or excessive rain. But as corn grows equally upon high and low lands, upon grounds that are disposed to be too wet, and upon those that are disposed to be too dry, either the drought or the rain, which is hurtful to one part of the country, is favourable to another; and though, both in the wet and in the dry season, the crop is a good deal less than in one more properly tempered; yet, in both, what is lost in one part of the country is in some measure compensated by what is gained in the other. In rice countries, where the crop not only requires a very moist soil, but where, in a certain period of its growing, it must be laid under water, the effects of a drought are much more dismal. Even in such countries, however, the drought is, perhaps, scarce ever so universal as necessarily to occasion a famine, if the government would allow a free trade. The drought in Bengal, a few years ago, might probably have occasioned a very great dearth. Some improper regulations, some injudicious restraints, imposed by the servants of the East India Company upon the rice trade, contributed, perhaps, to turn that dearth into a famine.
When the government, in order to remedy the inconveniencies of a dearth, orders all the dealers to sell their corn at what it supposes a reasonable price, it either hinders them from bringing it to market, which may sometimes produce a famine even in the beginning of the season; or, if they bring it thither, it enables the people, and thereby encourages them to consume it so fast as must necessarily produce a famine before the end of the season. The unlimited, unrestrained freedom of the corn trade, as it is the only effectual preventive of the miseries of a famine, so it is the best palliative of the inconveniencies of a dearth; for the inconveniencies of a real scarcity cannot be remedied; they can only be palliated. No trade deserves more the full protection of the law, and no trade requires it so much; because no trade is so much exposed to popular odium.
In years of scarcity, the inferior ranks of people impute their distress to the avarice of the corn merchant, who becomes the object of their hatred and indignation. Instead of making profit upon such occasions, therefore, he is often in danger of being utterly ruined, and of having his magazines plundered and destroyed by their violence. It is in years of scarcity, however, when prices are high, that the corn merchant expects to make his principal profit. He is generally in contract with some farmers to furnish him, for a certain number of years, with a certain quantity of corn, at a certain price. This contract price is settled according to what is supposed to be the moderate and reasonable, that is, the ordinary or average price, which, before the late years of scarcity, was commonly about 28s. for the quarter of wheat, and for that of other grain in proportion. In years of scarcity, therefore, the corn merchant buys a great part of his corn for the ordinary price, and sells it for a much higher. That this extraordinary profit, however, is no more than sufficient to put his trade upon a fair level with other trades, and to compensate the many losses which he sustains upon other occasions, both from the perishable nature of the commodity itself, and from the frequent and unforeseen fluctuations of its price, seems evident enough, from this single circumstance, that great fortunes are as seldom made in this as in any other trade. The popular odium, however, which attends it in years of scarcity, the only years in which it can be very profitable, renders people of character and fortune averse to enter into it. It is abandoned to an inferior set of dealers; and millers, bakers, meal-men, and meal-factors, together with a number of wretched hucksters, are almost the only middle people that, in the home market, come between the grower and the consumer.
The ancient policy of Europe, instead of discountenancing this popular odium against a trade so beneficial to the public, seems, on the contrary, to have authorised and encouraged it.
By the 5th and 6th of Edward VI cap. 14, it was enacted, that whoever should buy any corn or grain, with intent to sell it again, should be reputed an unlawful engrosser, and should, for the first fault, suffer two months imprisonment, and forfeit the value of the corn; for the second, suffer six months imprisonment, and forfeit double the value; and, for the third, be set in the pillory, suffer imprisonment during the king’s pleasure, and forfeit all his goods and chattels. The ancient policy of most other parts of Europe was no better than that of England.
Our ancestors seem to have imagined, that the people would buy their corn cheaper of the farmer than of the corn merchant, who, they were afraid, would require, over and above the price which he paid to the farmer, an exorbitant profit to himself. They endeavoured, therefore, to annihilate his trade altogether. They even endeavoured to hinder, as much as possible, any middle man of any kind from coming in between the grower and the consumer; and this was the meaning of the many restraints which they imposed upon the trade of those whom they called kidders, or carriers of corn; a trade which nobody was allowed to exercise without a licence, ascertaining his qualifications as a man of probity and fair dealing. The authority of three justices of the peace was, by the statute of Edward VI. necessary in order to grant this licence. But even this restraint was afterwards thought insufficient, and, by a statute of Elizabeth, the privilege of granting it was confined to the quarter-sessions.
The ancient policy of Europe endeavoured, in this manner, to regulate agriculture, the great trade of the country, by maxims quite different from those which it established with regard to manufactures, the great trade of the towns. By leaving a farmer no other customers but either the consumers or their immediate factors, the kidders and carriers of corn, it endeavoured to force him to exercise the trade, not only of a farmer, but of a corn merchant, or corn retailer. On the contrary, it, in many cases, prohibited the manufacturer from exercising the trade of a shopkeeper, or from selling his own goods by retail. It meant, by the one law, to promote the general interest of the country, or to render corn cheap, without, perhaps, its being well understood how this was to be done. By the other, it meant to promote that of a particular order of men, the shopkeepers, who would be so much undersold by the manufacturer, it was supposed, that their trade would be ruined, if he was allowed to retail at all.
The manufacturer, however, though he had been allowed to keep a shop, and to sell his own goods by retail, could not have undersold the common shopkeeper. Whatever part of his capital he might have placed in his shop, he must have withdrawn it from his manufacture. In order to carry on his business on a level with that of other people, as he must have had the profit of a manufacturer on the one part, so he must have had that of a shopkeeper upon the other. Let us suppose, for example, that in the particular town where he lived, ten per cent. was the ordinary profit both of manufacturing and shopkeeping stock; he must in this case have charged upon every piece of his own goods, which he sold in his shop, a profit of twenty per cent. When he carried them from his workhouse to his shop, he must have valued them at the price for which he could have sold them to a dealer or shopkeeper, who would have bought them by wholesale. If he valued them lower, he lost a part of the profit of his manufacturing capital. When, again, he sold them from his shop, unless he got the same price at which a shopkeeper would have sold them, he lost a part of the profit of his shop-keeping capital. Though he might appear, therefore, to make a double profit upon the same piece of goods, yet, as these goods made successively a part of two distinct capitals, he made but a single profit upon the whole capital employed about them; and if he made less than his profit, he was a loser, and did not employ his whole capital with the same advantage as the greater part of his neighbours.
What the manufacturer was prohibited to do, the farmer was in some measure enjoined to do; to divide his capital between two different employments; to keep one part of it in his granaries and stack-yard, for supplying the occasional demands of the market, and to employ the other in the cultivation of his land. But as he could not afford to employ the latter for less than the ordinary profits of farming stock, so he could as little afford to employ the former for less than the ordinary profits of mercantile stock. Whether the stock which really carried on the business of a corn merchant belonged to the person who was called a farmer, or to the person who was called a corn merchant, an equal profit was in both cases requisite, in order to indemnify its owner for employing it in this manner, in order to put his business on a level with other trades, and in order to hinder him from having an interest to change it as soon as possible for some other. The farmer, therefore, who was thus forced to exercise the trade of a corn merchant, could not afford to sell his corn cheaper than any other corn merchant would have been obliged to do in the case of a free competition.
The dealer who can employ his whole stock in one single branch of business, has an advantage of the same kind with the workman who can employ his whole labour in one single operation. As the latter acquires a dexterity which enables him, with the same two hands, to perform a much greater quantity of work, so the former acquires so easy and ready a method of transacting his business, of buying and disposing of his goods, that with the same capital he can transact a much greater quantity of business. As the one can commonly afford his work a good deal cheaper, so the other can commonly afford his goods somewhat cheaper, than if his stock and attention were both employed about a greater variety of objects. The greater part of manufacturers could not afford to retail their own goods so cheap as a vigilant and active shopkeeper, whose sole business it was to buy them by wholesale and to retail them again. The greater part of farmers could still less afford to retail their own corn, to supply the inhabitants of a town, at perhaps four or five miles distance from the greater part of them, so cheap as a vigilant and active corn merchant, whose sole business it was to purchase corn by wholesale, to collect it into a great magazine, and to retail it again.
The law which prohibited the manufacturer from exercising the trade of a shopkeeper, endeavoured to force this division in the employment of stock to go on faster than it might otherwise have done. The law which obliged the farmer to exercise the trade of a corn merchant, endeavoured to hinder it from going on so fast. Both laws were evident violations of natural liberty, and therefore unjust; and they were both, too, as impolitic as they were unjust. It is the interest of every society, that things of this kind should never either he forced or obstructed. The man who employs either his labour or his stock in a greater variety of ways than his situation renders necessary, can never hurt his neighbour by underselling him. He may hurt himself, and he generally does so. Jack-of-all-trades will never be rich, says the proverb. But the law ought always to trust people with the care of their own interest, as in their local situations they must generally be able to judge better of it than the legislature can do. The law, however, which obliged the farmer to exercise the trade of a corn merchant was by far the most pernicious of the two.
English
If one great company of merchants could possess the entire crop of an extensive country, it might perhaps serve their interest to treat it as the Dutch are said to treat the spices of the Moluccas: destroy or throw away a substantial portion to keep up the price of the rest. But even the force of law can scarcely establish so extensive a monopoly of corn. Wherever the law leaves the trade free, corn is less liable than any other commodity to be cornered or monopolized through the power of a few large capitals buying up most of it. Its value far exceeds the purchasing power of a few private individuals; and even if they could afford to buy it, the way it is produced would make the purchase altogether impracticable. In every civilized country, more of it is consumed annually than of any other commodity, and therefore more industry is employed each year in producing corn than in producing any other commodity. At harvest it is also necessarily divided among more owners than any other commodity. These owners cannot be gathered in one place like independent manufacturers, but are scattered across every corner of the country. They either supply consumers in their own neighborhood directly or supply other inland dealers who do so. Inland corn dealers, including both farmers and bakers, must therefore be more numerous than dealers in any other commodity; their scattered locations make any general combination among them impossible. Consequently, if in a year of scarcity one dealer found he had considerably more corn on hand than he could hope to sell at the current price before the season ended, he would never preserve that price at his own expense for the sole benefit of his rivals. He would immediately lower it to dispose of his corn before the new harvest arrived. The same motives and interests governing one dealer’s conduct would govern every other’s, compelling them in general to sell at the price they judged best suited to the season’s scarcity or abundance.
Anyone who carefully examines the history of the dearths and famines that have afflicted parts of Europe during the present century or the two preceding it—several of which are fairly well documented—will find, I believe, that dearth has never resulted from a combination of inland corn dealers. It has arisen only from real scarcity, sometimes perhaps caused locally by the devastation of war, but in the great majority of cases by the failure of the seasons. Famine, in turn, has arisen only when government uses improper means to remedy the hardships of dearth.
In a large corn-growing country where trade and communication are free among all its regions, scarcity caused by even the least favorable seasons can never be severe enough to produce famine. Even the poorest harvest, managed frugally and economically, will sustain throughout the year the same number of people that an ordinary harvest feeds more generously. Excessive drought and excessive rain are the seasons most unfavorable to the crop. But corn grows on both high and low ground, on land prone to excessive wetness and land prone to excessive dryness. The drought or rain harmful to one part of the country benefits another. Although both a wet and a dry season produce considerably less than one with more moderate weather, the gains in one region partly compensate for the losses in another. The effects of drought are far more dismal in rice-growing countries, where the crop needs not only very moist soil but, at a certain stage of growth, must be submerged. Even there, however, drought is perhaps hardly ever so universal that it must cause famine if the government permits free trade. The drought in Bengal some years ago might well have produced a very severe dearth. Some ill-judged regulations and restrictions imposed on the rice trade by servants of the East India Company perhaps helped turn that dearth into famine.
When government tries to remedy a dearth by ordering all dealers to sell corn at what it deems a reasonable price, it either deters them from bringing corn to market—which can produce famine even at the season’s beginning—or, if they do bring it, enables and encourages people to consume it so quickly that famine must come before the season ends. Complete, unrestrained freedom of the corn trade is the only effective safeguard against the misery of famine and the best means of easing the hardships of dearth. Real scarcity cannot be remedied; its hardships can only be alleviated. No trade more deserves the law’s full protection, and no trade needs it more, because none is so exposed to public hatred.
In scarce years, the poorer ranks blame their distress on the corn merchant’s greed, and he becomes the object of their hatred and indignation. Far from making a profit at such times, he is often in danger of complete ruin, with his storehouses plundered and destroyed by their violence. Yet scarce years, when prices are high, are precisely when he expects to make his main profit. He generally contracts with farmers to supply him with a fixed quantity of corn at a fixed price for a number of years. The contract price is set by what is thought a moderate and reasonable price—that is, the usual or average price—which, before the recent years of scarcity, was commonly about 28s. per quarter of wheat, and proportionately for other grain. In scarce years, then, the merchant buys much of his corn at the ordinary price and sells it at a far higher one. Yet this extraordinary profit seems no more than enough to put his trade on a fair footing with other trades and compensate for the many losses he suffers at other times, both because corn is perishable and because its price fluctuates frequently and unexpectedly. One fact alone seems to show this: great fortunes are as seldom made in this trade as in any other. But the public hatred directed at it in scarce years—the only years when it can be very profitable—deters people of standing and wealth from entering it. The trade is left to a lower class of dealers. Millers, bakers, meal-men, meal-factors, and a number of wretched hucksters are almost the only intermediaries between grower and consumer in the home market.
The old policy of Europe, instead of discouraging this public hatred of a trade so useful to the public, seems to have sanctioned and encouraged it.
Under the 5th and 6th of Edward VI cap. 14, anyone buying corn or grain with the intention of reselling it was to be deemed an unlawful engrosser. For the first offense he was to suffer two months’ imprisonment and forfeit the value of the corn; for the second, six months’ imprisonment and twice its value; and for the third, the pillory, imprisonment for as long as the king pleased, and the forfeiture of all his goods and chattels. The old policy of most other European countries was no better than England’s.
Our ancestors seem to have imagined that people would buy corn more cheaply from a farmer than from a corn merchant, whom they feared would demand an exorbitant profit above what he had paid the farmer. So they attempted to abolish the merchant’s trade altogether. Indeed, they tried as far as possible to prevent any middleman from coming between grower and consumer. This was the purpose of their many restrictions on those called kidders, or corn carriers. No one could pursue that trade without a license certifying his qualifications as an honest and fair dealer. A statute of Edward VI required the authority of three justices of the peace to grant such a license. Later this restriction was thought insufficient, and a statute of Elizabeth confined the power to grant it to the quarter-sessions.
In this way, the old policy of Europe attempted to regulate agriculture, the great trade of the countryside, by principles quite different from those it applied to manufactures, the great trade of towns. By leaving a farmer no customers other than consumers or their immediate agents, the kidders and corn carriers, it tried to force him to practice not only farming but also the trade of a corn merchant or retailer. Conversely, in many cases it forbade manufacturers to act as shopkeepers or sell their goods at retail. The first law was intended to promote the country’s general interest by making corn cheap, though perhaps no one clearly understood how it would do so. The second was intended to promote the interests of one particular group, the shopkeepers, whose trade, it was supposed, would be ruined by manufacturers underselling them if manufacturers could retail at all.
Yet even if a manufacturer had been allowed to keep a shop and retail his own goods, he could not have undersold an ordinary shopkeeper. Any capital he put into his shop would have to be withdrawn from manufacture. To conduct both activities on the same footing as other people, he would need a manufacturer’s profit on one part of his capital and a shopkeeper’s profit on the other. Suppose, for instance, that ten per cent. was the ordinary profit on both manufacturing and shopkeeping stock in his town. He would then have to charge twenty per cent. profit on every piece of his own goods sold in his shop. Upon moving it from his workshop to his shop he would have to value it at the wholesale price he could obtain from a dealer or shopkeeper. Valuing it lower would cost him part of the profit on his manufacturing capital. When he sold it in his own shop, he would likewise lose some of the profit on his shopkeeping capital unless he received the same price a shopkeeper would charge. He might thus appear to make a double profit on one piece of goods; but since those goods successively formed part of two distinct capitals, he would make only a single profit on the whole capital employed in them. If he earned less than his proper profit, he lost money and did not employ his whole capital as advantageously as most of his neighbors.
What manufacturers were forbidden to do, farmers were to some extent required to do: divide their capital between two different employments. They had to keep one part in their granaries and stackyards to meet the market’s occasional demands, and employ the other in cultivating their land. But just as they could not afford to employ the latter at less than the ordinary profits of farming stock, they could not afford to employ the former at less than the ordinary profits of mercantile stock. Whether the stock actually carrying on the corn merchant’s business belonged to someone called a farmer or to someone called a corn merchant, it needed to earn the same profit. Only that profit would compensate its owner for employing it this way, place his business on a level with other trades, and remove his incentive to change occupations as soon as possible. Thus a farmer compelled to practice the corn merchant’s trade could not afford to sell his corn more cheaply than any other corn merchant facing free competition.
A dealer who can devote all his stock to a single branch of business has the same kind of advantage as a workman who can devote all his labor to a single operation. The workman develops skill that lets him do far more work with the same two hands; the dealer develops such ease and speed in conducting business, buying and disposing of goods, that he can handle far more business with the same capital. Just as the first can generally offer his work much more cheaply, the second can generally offer his goods somewhat more cheaply than if his stock and attention were divided among a greater variety of pursuits. Most manufacturers could not retail their own goods as cheaply as an alert and active shopkeeper whose sole business was buying wholesale and reselling retail. Still less could most farmers retail their own corn to supply a town whose inhabitants might live four or five miles from most of them as cheaply as an alert and active corn merchant whose sole business was buying corn wholesale, collecting it in a large storehouse, and reselling it retail.
The law forbidding a manufacturer to act as a shopkeeper attempted to force this division of stock among employments to proceed faster than it otherwise would. The law requiring a farmer to act as a corn merchant attempted to prevent it from proceeding so fast. Both laws plainly violated natural liberty and were therefore unjust; they were also as unwise as they were unjust. It is in every society’s interest that such developments should neither be forced nor obstructed. Someone who employs his labor or stock in more kinds of work than his circumstances require can never harm his neighbor by underselling him. He may harm himself, and usually does. As the proverb says, a jack-of-all-trades will never be rich. But the law should always trust people to look after their own interests, since their local circumstances generally enable them to judge those interests better than a legislature can. The law compelling the farmer to act as a corn merchant was, however, by far the more harmful of the two.
Book IV, Chapter V, 5
18th-century English
It obstructed not only that division in the employment of stock which is so advantageous to every society, but it obstructed likewise the improvement and cultivation of the land. By obliging the farmer to carry on two trades instead of one, it forced him to divide his capital into two parts, of which one only could be employed in cultivation. But if he had been at liberty to sell his whole crop to a corn merchant as fast as he could thresh it out, his whole capital might have returned immediately to the land, and have been employed in buying more cattle, and hiring more servants, in order to improve and cultivate it better. But by being obliged to sell his corn by retail, he was obliged to keep a great part of his capital in his granaries and stack-yard through the year, and could not therefore cultivate so well as with the same capital he might otherwise have done. This law, therefore, necessarily obstructed the improvement of the land, and, instead of tending to render corn cheaper, must have tended to render it scarcer, and therefore dearer, than it would otherwise have been.
After the business of the farmer, that of the corn merchant is in reality the trade which, if properly protected and encouraged, would contribute the most to the raising of corn. It would support the trade of the farmer, in the same manner as the trade of the wholesale dealer supports that of the manufacturer.
The wholesale dealer, by affording a ready market to the manufacturer, by taking his goods off his hand as fast as he can make them, and by sometimes even advancing their price to him before he has made them, enables him to keep his whole capital, and sometimes even more than his whole capital, constantly employed in manufacturing, and consequently to manufacture a much greater quantity of goods than if he was obliged to dispose of them himself to the immediate consumers, or even to the retailers. As the capital of the wholesale merchant, too, is generally sufficient to replace that of many manufacturers, this intercourse between him and them interests the owner of a large capital to support the owners of a great number of small ones, and to assist them in those losses and misfortunes which might otherwise prove ruinous to them.
An intercourse of the same kind universally established between the farmers and the corn merchants, would be attended with effects equally beneficial to the farmers. They would be enabled to keep their whole capitals, and even more than their whole capitals constantly employed in cultivation. In case of any of those accidents to which no trade is more liable than theirs, they would find in their ordinary customer, the wealthy corn merchant, a person who had both an interest to support them, and the ability to do it; and they would not, as at present, be entirely dependent upon the forbearance of their landlord, or the mercy of his steward. Were it possible, as perhaps it is not, to establish this intercourse universally, and all at once; were it possible to turn all at once the whole farming stock of the kingdom to its proper business, the cultivation of land, withdrawing it from every other employment into which any part of it may be at present diverted; and were it possible, in order to support and assist, upon occasion, the operations of this great stock, to provide all at once another stock almost equally great; it is not, perhaps, very easy to imagine how great, how extensive, and how sudden, would be the improvement which this change of circumstances would alone produce upon the whole face of the country.
The statute of Edward VI. therefore, by prohibiting as much as possible any middle man from coming in between the grower and the consumer, endeavoured to annihilate a trade, of which the free exercise is not only the best palliative of the inconveniencies of a dearth, but the best preventive of that calamity; after the trade of the farmer, no trade contributing so much to the growing of corn as that of the corn merchant.
The rigour of this law was afterwards softened by several subsequent statutes, which successively permitted the engrossing of corn when the price of wheat should not exceed 20s. and 24s. 32s. and 40s. the quarter. At last, by the 15th of Charles II. c.7, the engrossing or buying of corn, in order to sell it again, as long as the price of wheat did not exceed 48s. the quarter, and that of other grain in proportion, was declared lawful to all persons not being forestallers, that is, not selling again in the same market within three months. All the freedom which the trade of the inland corn dealer has ever yet enjoyed was bestowed upon it by this statute. The statute of the twelfth of the present king, which repeals almost all the other ancient laws against engrossers and forestallers, does not repeal the restrictions of this particular statute, which therefore still continue in force.
This statute, however, authorises in some measure two very absurd popular prejudices.
First, It supposes, that when the price of wheat has risen so high as 48s. the quarter, and that of other grain in proportion, corn is likely to be so engrossed as to hurt the people. But, from what has been already said, it seems evident enough, that corn can at no price be so engrossed by the inland dealers as to hurt the people; and 48s. the quarter, besides, though it may be considered as a very high price, yet, in years of scarcity, it is a price which frequently takes place immediately after harvest, when scarce any part of the new crop can be sold off, and when it is impossible even for ignorance to suppose that any part of it can be so engrossed as to hurt the people.
Secondly, It supposes that there is a certain price at which corn is likely to be forestalled, that is, bought up in order to be sold again soon after in the same market, so as to hurt the people. But if a merchant ever buys up corn, either going to a particular market, or in a particular market, in order to sell it again soon after in the same market, it must be because he judges that the market cannot be so liberally supplied through the whole season as upon that particular occasion, and that the price, therefore, must soon rise. If he judges wrong in this, and if the price does not rise, he not only loses the whole profit of the stock which he employs in this manner, but a part of the stock itself, by the expense and loss which necessarily attend the storing and keeping of corn. He hurts himself, therefore, much more essentially than he can hurt even the particular people whom he may hinder from supplying themselves upon that particular market day, because they may afterwards supply themselves just as cheap upon any other market day. If he judges right, instead of hurting the great body of the people, he renders them a most important service. By making them feel the inconveniencies of a dearth somewhat earlier than they otherwise might do, he prevents their feeling them afterwards so severely as they certainly would do, if the cheapness of price encouraged them to consume faster than suited the real scarcity of the season. When the scarcity is real, the best thing that can be done for the people is, to divide the inconvenience of it as equally as possible, through all the different months and weeks and days of the year. The interest of the corn merchant makes him study to do this as exactly as he can; and as no other person can have either the same interest, or the same knowledge, or the same abilities, to do it so exactly as he, this most important operation of commerce ought to be trusted entirely to him; or, in other words, the corn trade, so far at least as concerns the supply of the home market, ought to be left perfectly free.
The popular fear of engrossing and forestalling may be compared to the popular terrors and suspicions of witchcraft. The unfortunate wretches accused of this latter crime were not more innocent of the misfortunes imputed to them, than those who have been accused of the former. The law which put an end to all prosecutions against witchcraft, which put it out of any man’s power to gratify his own malice by accusing his neighbour of that imaginary crime, seems effectually to have put an end to those fears and suspicions, by taking away the great cause which encouraged and supported them. The law which would restore entire freedom to the inland trade of corn, would probably prove as effectual to put an end to the popular fears of engrossing and forestalling.
The 15th of Charles II. c. 7, however, with all its imperfections, has, perhaps, contributed more, both to the plentiful supply of the home market, and to the increase of tillage, than any other law in the statute book. It is from this law that the inland corn trade has derived all the liberty and protection which it has ever yet enjoyed; and both the supply of the home market and the interest of tillage are much more effectually promoted by the inland, than either by the importation or exportation trade.
The proportion of the average quantity of all sorts of grain imported into Great Britain to that of all sorts of grain consumed, it has been computed by the author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade, does not exceed that of one to five hundred and seventy. For supplying the home market, therefore, the importance of the inland trade must be to that of the importation trade as five hundred and seventy to one.
The average quantity of all sorts of grain exported from Great Britain does not, according to the same author, exceed the one-and-thirtieth part of the annual produce. For the encouragement of tillage, therefore, by providing a market for the home produce, the importance of the inland trade must be to that of the exportation trade as thirty to one.
I have no great faith in political arithmetic, and I mean not to warrant the exactness of either of these computations. I mention them only in order to show of how much less consequence, in the opinion of the most judicious and experienced persons, the foreign trade of corn is than the home trade. The great cheapness of corn in the years immediately preceding the establishment of the bounty may, perhaps with reason, he ascribed in some measure to the operation of this statute of Charles II. which had been enacted about five-and-twenty years before, and which had, therefore, full time to produce its effect.
A very few words will sufficiently explain all that I have to say concerning the other three branches of the corn trade.
II. The trade of the merchant-importer of foreign corn for home consumption, evidently contributes to the immediate supply of the home market, and must so far be immediately beneficial to the great body of the people. It tends, indeed, to lower somewhat the average money price of corn, but not to diminish its real value, or the quantity of labour which it is capable of maintaining. If importation was at all times free, our farmers and country gentlemen would probably, one year with another, get less money for their corn than they do at present, when importation is at most times in effect prohibited; but the money which they got would be of more value, would buy more goods of all other kinds, and would employ more labour. Their real wealth, their real revenue, therefore, would be the same as at present, though it might be expressed by a smaller quantity of silver, and they would neither be disabled nor discouraged from cultivating corn as much as they do at present. On the contrary, as the rise in the real value of silver, in consequence of lowering the money price of corn, lowers somewhat the money price of all other commodities, it gives the industry of the country where it takes place some advantage in all foreign markets and thereby tends to encourage and increase that industry. But the extent of the home market for corn must be in proportion to the general industry of the country where it grows, or to the number of those who produce something else, and therefore, have something else, or, what comes to the same thing, the price of something else, to give in exchange for corn. But in every country, the home market, as it is the nearest and most convenient, so is it likewise the greatest and most important market for corn. That rise in the real value of silver, therefore, which is the effect of lowering the average money price of corn, tends to enlarge the greatest and most important market for corn, and thereby to encourage, instead of discouraging its growth.
By the 22d of Charles II. c. 13, the importation of wheat, whenever the price in the home market did not exceed 53s:4d. the quarter, was subjected to a duty of 16s. the quarter; and to a duty of 8s. whenever the price did not exceed £4. The former of these two prices has, for more than a century past, taken place only in times of very great scarcity; and the latter has, so far as I know, not taken place at all. Yet, till wheat has risen above this latter price, it was, by this statute, subjected to a very high duty; and, till it had risen above the former, to a duty which amounted to a prohibition. The importation of other sorts of grain was restrained at rates and by duties, in proportion to the value of the grain, almost equally high. Before the 13th of the present king, the following were the duties payable upon the importation of the different sorts of grain:
Grain. Duties. Duties Duties. Beans to 28s. per qr. 19s:10d. after till 40s. 16s:8d. then 12d. Barley to 28s. - 19s:10d. - 32s. 16s. - 12d. Malt is prohibited by the annual malt-tax bill. Oats to 16s. - 5s:10d. after - 9½d. Pease to 40s. - 16s: 0d. after - 9¾d. Rye to 36s. - 19s:10d. till 40s. 16s:8d - 12d. Wheat to 44s. - 21s: 9d. till 53s:4d. 17s. - 8s. till £4, and after that about 1s:4d. Buck-wheat to 32s. per qr. to pay 16s.
These different duties were imposed, partly by the 22d of Charles II. in place of the old subsidy, partly by the new subsidy, by the one-third and two-thirds subsidy, and by the subsidy 1747. Subsequent laws still further increased those duties.
The distress which, in years of scarcity, the strict execution of those laws might have brought upon the people, would probably have been very great; but, upon such occasions, its execution was generally suspended by temporary statutes, which permitted, for a limited time, the importation of foreign corn. The necessity of these temporary statutes sufficiently demonstrates the impropriety of this general one.
These restraints upon importation, though prior to the establishment of the bounty, were dictated by the same spirit, by the same principles, which afterwards enacted that regulation. How hurtful soever in themselves, these, or some other restraints upon importation, became necessary in consequence of that regulation. If, when wheat was either below 48s. the quarter, or not much above it, foreign corn could have been imported, either duty free, or upon paying only a small duty, it might have been exported again, with the benefit of the bounty, to the great loss of the public revenue, and to the entire perversion of the institution, of which the object was to extend the market for the home growth, not that for the growth of foreign countries.
English
It impeded not only that division in the employment of stock so beneficial to every society, but also the improvement and cultivation of the land. By forcing the farmer to practice two trades instead of one, it forced him to divide his capital into two parts, only one of which could be employed in cultivation. Had he been free to sell his entire crop to a corn merchant as quickly as he could thresh it, all his capital could have returned immediately to the land and gone toward buying more cattle and hiring more workers, so that he might improve and cultivate it better. Forced instead to sell his corn by retail, he had to keep a large part of his capital in his granaries and stackyard throughout the year, and could not cultivate as well as he otherwise might with the same capital. This law, therefore, necessarily hindered the improvement of the land and, far from making corn cheaper, must have made it scarcer and consequently dearer than it would otherwise have been.
After farming itself, the corn merchant's trade is in fact the one that, properly protected and encouraged, would contribute most to the growing of corn. It would support the farmer's trade just as the wholesale dealer's trade supports the manufacturer's.
By offering the manufacturer a ready market, taking his goods off his hands as fast as he can make them, and sometimes even advancing him their price before they are made, the wholesale dealer enables him to keep all his capital, and sometimes more than all of it, constantly employed in manufacturing. The manufacturer can thus produce far more goods than if he had to sell them himself to the consumers, or even to retailers. The wholesale merchant's capital, moreover, is generally sufficient to replace the capital of many manufacturers. Their dealings therefore give the owner of a large capital an interest in sustaining the owners of many small capitals, and in helping them through losses and misfortunes that might otherwise ruin them.
Dealings of the same kind, universally established between farmers and corn merchants, would benefit farmers equally. They could keep all their capital, and even more, constantly employed in cultivation. Should any of the accidents to which no trade is more exposed than theirs occur, they would find in their regular customer, the wealthy corn merchant, someone both interested in supporting them and able to do so. They would not, as they are now, depend entirely on the patience of their landlord or the mercy of his steward. If it were possible—as perhaps it is not—to establish such dealings everywhere and all at once; if all the farming stock of the kingdom could be turned at once to its proper work, cultivating land, and withdrawn from every other use to which some part of it is now diverted; and if another stock almost as large could at once be provided to support and assist the operations of this great stock when needed, it would perhaps be hard to imagine how great, how widespread, and how sudden an improvement this change alone would bring to the whole face of the country.
The statute of Edward VI., therefore, by barring as far as possible any middleman between grower and consumer, tried to destroy a trade whose free exercise is not only the best relief from the hardships of a dearth but the best means of preventing that calamity. After farming, no trade contributes more to growing corn than the corn merchant's.
The severity of this law was later softened by several successive statutes permitting corn to be engrossed when wheat did not exceed 20s. and 24s. 32s. and 40s. the quarter. Finally, under the 15th of Charles II. c.7, engrossing or buying corn for resale was declared lawful, so long as wheat did not exceed 48s. the quarter and other grain was priced proportionately, for anyone who was not a forestaller—that is, who did not resell in the same market within three months. This statute conferred all the freedom the inland corn dealer's trade has ever enjoyed. The statute of the twelfth of the present king, repealing almost all the other old laws against engrossers and forestallers, does not repeal this particular statute's restrictions, which therefore remain in force.
This statute, however, gives some sanction to two thoroughly absurd popular prejudices.
First, it supposes that when wheat reaches 48s. the quarter, with other grain priced proportionately, corn is likely to be engrossed to the people's detriment. But what has already been said makes it plain enough that inland dealers cannot engross corn at any price to the people's detriment. Besides, although 48s. the quarter may be considered very high, in years of scarcity that price often prevails immediately after harvest, when scarcely any of the new crop can yet have been sold. At such a time not even ignorance can suppose that any of it has been engrossed to the people's detriment.
Second, it supposes that there is a particular price at which corn is likely to be forestalled—that is, bought up for prompt resale in the same market—to the people's detriment. But if a merchant ever buys corn on its way to a particular market or in that market, intending to resell it there soon afterward, he must believe that the market cannot be as amply supplied throughout the season as it is on that occasion, and that the price will therefore soon rise. If he is mistaken, and the price fails to rise, he loses not only all the profit on the stock he employs this way but part of the stock itself, through the expenses and losses inevitably involved in storing and keeping corn. He therefore hurts himself far more seriously than he can hurt even the particular people whom he prevents from buying on that market day; they can later buy just as cheaply on any other market day. If he is right, far from harming the great body of the people, he performs a service of the highest importance. By making them feel the hardships of a dearth somewhat earlier than they otherwise would, he prevents them from feeling those hardships later as severely as they certainly would if low prices encouraged them to consume faster than the season's real scarcity warrants. Where scarcity is real, the best that can be done for the people is to distribute its hardship as evenly as possible among all the months, weeks, and days of the year. The corn merchant's interest leads him to study how to do this as precisely as he can. Since no one else can have the same interest, knowledge, or ability to do it so precisely, this most important operation of commerce ought to be entrusted entirely to him. In other words, the corn trade, at least in supplying the home market, ought to be left completely free.
The popular fear of engrossing and forestalling may be compared with popular fears and suspicions of witchcraft. The unfortunate people accused of that latter crime were no more responsible for the misfortunes attributed to them than those accused of the former. The law that ended prosecutions for witchcraft, and took away anyone's power to indulge his malice by accusing his neighbor of that imaginary crime, appears to have ended those fears and suspicions effectively by removing their chief source of encouragement and support. A law restoring complete freedom to the inland corn trade would probably be equally effective against the popular fears of engrossing and forestalling.
The 15th of Charles II. c. 7, despite all its defects, has perhaps done more than any other law in the statute book both to supply the home market abundantly and to increase tillage. To this law the inland corn trade owes all the liberty and protection it has yet enjoyed; and both the home market's supply and the interests of tillage are promoted far more effectively by inland trade than by either import or export trade.
The author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade has calculated that the ratio of the average quantity of all kinds of grain imported into Great Britain to that of all kinds consumed does not exceed one to five hundred and seventy. For supplying the home market, then, the inland trade must be to the import trade as five hundred and seventy to one.
According to the same author, the average quantity of all kinds of grain exported from Great Britain does not exceed one thirty-first of the annual produce. As a means of encouraging tillage by providing a market for domestic produce, therefore, the inland trade must be to the export trade as thirty to one.
I have little faith in political arithmetic and do not vouch for the precision of either calculation. I cite them only to show how much less important the foreign corn trade is than the home trade in the judgment of the most discerning and experienced people. The exceptionally low price of corn in the years just before the bounty was established may perhaps, with reason, be attributed in part to the operation of this statute of Charles II., enacted some five-and-twenty years earlier, and thus given ample time to take effect.
A few words will suffice to explain all I have to say about the other three branches of the corn trade.
II. The trade of merchants importing foreign corn for domestic consumption plainly contributes to the immediate supply of the home market and must, to that extent, immediately benefit the great body of the people. It does tend to lower the average money price of corn somewhat, but not its real value or the quantity of labor it can support. If importation were always free, our farmers and country gentlemen would probably receive less money for their corn on average than they do now, when importation is effectively prohibited most of the time. But the money they received would be worth more: it would buy more goods of every other kind and employ more labor. Their real wealth and real revenue would therefore remain as they are now, though expressed in less silver, and they would be neither less able nor less inclined to grow as much corn as they now grow. On the contrary, when the lower money price of corn raises the real value of silver, it also somewhat lowers the money prices of all other commodities. This gives the industry of the country where it happens some advantage in every foreign market and thus tends to encourage and expand that industry. Yet the extent of the home market for corn must be proportional to the country's general industry, or to the number of people who produce something else and therefore have something else—or its price—to offer for corn. In every country, moreover, the home market is not only the nearest and most convenient market for corn but also the largest and most important. The rise in the real value of silver resulting from a lower average money price of corn thus tends to enlarge corn's largest and most important market and so to encourage, not discourage, its cultivation.
Under the 22d of Charles II. c. 13, wheat imported when the home-market price did not exceed 53s:4d. the quarter was charged a duty of 16s. the quarter, and a duty of 8s. when the price did not exceed £4. The first of these prices has occurred in more than a century only during very great scarcities, and the second, so far as I know, has never occurred at all. Yet until wheat rose above that second price, this statute imposed a very high duty, and until it rose above the first, a duty tantamount to prohibition. Imports of other kinds of grain were restricted by price thresholds and duties almost as high in proportion to their value. Before the 13th of the present king, the import duties on the various kinds of grain were as follows:
Grain. Duties. Duties Duties. Beans to 28s. per qr. 19s:10d. after till 40s. 16s:8d. then 12d. Barley to 28s. - 19s:10d. - 32s. 16s. - 12d. Malt is prohibited by the annual malt-tax bill. Oats to 16s. - 5s:10d. after - 9½d. Pease to 40s. - 16s: 0d. after - 9¾d. Rye to 36s. - 19s:10d. till 40s. 16s:8d - 12d. Wheat to 44s. - 21s: 9d. till 53s:4d. 17s. - 8s. till £4, and after that about 1s:4d. Buck-wheat to 32s. per qr. to pay 16s.
These various duties were imposed partly by the 22d of Charles II. in place of the old subsidy, partly by the new subsidy, the one-third and two-thirds subsidy, and the subsidy 1747. Later laws increased them still further.
The hardship that strict enforcement of these laws might have inflicted on the people in years of scarcity would probably have been very great. On such occasions, however, temporary statutes generally suspended their enforcement and allowed foreign corn to be imported for a limited time. The need for these temporary statutes sufficiently demonstrates the folly of the general law.
Although these import restrictions predated the bounty, they sprang from the same spirit and the same principles that later enacted it. Harmful as they were in themselves, these or some other import restrictions became necessary because of the bounty. If foreign corn could have been imported duty-free, or at a low duty, when wheat was below 48s. the quarter or not much above it, it might have been exported again with the bounty. The public revenue would have suffered great loss, and an institution meant to expand the market for domestic crops, not foreign ones, would have been utterly turned against its purpose.
Book IV, Chapter V, 6
18th-century English
III. The trade of the merchant-exporter of corn for foreign consumption, certainly does not contribute directly to the plentiful supply of the home market. It does so, however, indirectly. From whatever source this supply maybe usually drawn, whether from home growth, or from foreign importation, unless more corn is either usually grown, or usually imported into the country, than what is usually consumed in it, the supply of the home market can never be very plentiful. But unless the surplus can, in all ordinary cases, be exported, the growers will be careful never to grow more, and the importers never to import more, than what the bare consumption of the home market requires. That market will very seldom be overstocked; but it will generally be understocked; the people, whose business it is to supply it, being generally afraid lest their goods should be left upon their hands. The prohibition of exportation limits the improvement and cultivation of the country to what the supply of its own inhabitants require. The freedom of exportation enables it to extend cultivation for the supply of foreign nations.
By the 12th of Charles II. c.4, the exportation of corn was permitted whenever the price of wheat did not exceed 40s. the quarter, and that of other grain in proportion. By the 15th of the same prince, this liberty was extended till the price of wheat exceeded 48s. the quarter; and by the 22d, to all higher prices. A poundage, indeed, was to be paid to the king upon such exportation; but all grain was rated so low in the book of rates, that this poundage amounted only, upon wheat to 1s., upon oats to 4d., and upon all other grain to 6d. the quarter. By the 1st of William and Mary, the act which established this bounty, this small duty was virtually taken off whenever the price of wheat did not exceed 48s. the quarter; and by the 11th and 12th of William III. c. 20, it was expressly taken off at all higher prices.
The trade of the merchant-exporter was, in this manner, not only encouraged by a bounty, but rendered much more free than that of the inland dealer. By the last of these statutes, corn could be engrossed at any price for exportation; but it could not be engrossed for inland sale, except when the price did not exceed 48s. the quarter. The interest of the inland dealer, however, it has already been shown, can never be opposite to that of the great body of the people. That of the merchant-exporter may, and in fact sometimes is. If, while his own country labours under a dearth, a neighbouring country should be afflicted with a famine, it might be his interest to carry corn to the latter country, in such quantities as might very much aggravate the calamities of the dearth. The plentiful supply of the home market was not the direct object of those statutes; but, under the pretence of encouraging agriculture, to raise the money price of corn as high as possible, and thereby to occasion, as much as possible, a constant dearth in the home market. By the discouragement of importation, the supply of that market; even in times of great scarcity, was confined to the home growth; and by the encouragement of exportation, when the price was so high as 48s. the quarter, that market was not, even in times of considerable scarcity, allowed to enjoy the whole of that growth. The temporary laws, prohibiting, for a limited time, the exportation of corn, and taking off, for a limited time, the duties upon its importation, expedients to which Great Britain has been obliged so frequently to have recourse, sufficiently demonstrate the impropriety of her general system. Had that system been good, she would not so frequently have been reduced to the necessity of departing from it.
Were all nations to follow the liberal system of free exportation and free importation, the different states into which a great continent was divided, would so far resemble the different provinces of a great empire. As among the different provinces of a great empire, the freedom of the inland trade appears, both from reason and experience, not only the best palliative of a dearth, but the most effectual preventive of a famine; so would the freedom of the exportation and importation trade be among the different states into which a great continent was divided. The larger the continent, the easier the communication through all the different parts of it, both by land and by water, the less would any one particular part of it ever be exposed to either of these calamities, the scarcity of any one country being more likely to be relieved by the plenty of some other. But very few countries have entirely adopted this liberal system. The freedom of the corn trade is almost everywhere more or less restrained, and in many countries is confined by such absurd regulations, as frequently aggravate the unavoidable misfortune of a dearth into the dreadful calamity of a famine. The demand of such countries for corn may frequently become so great and so urgent, that a small state in their neighbourhood, which happened at the same time to be labouring under some degree of dearth, could not venture to supply them without exposing itself to the like dreadful calamity. The very bad policy of one country may thus render it, in some measure, dangerous and imprudent to establish what would otherwise be the best policy in another. The unlimited freedom of exportation, however, would be much less dangerous in great states, in which the growth being much greater, the supply could seldom be much affected by any quantity or corn that was likely to be exported. In a Swiss canton, or in some of the little states in Italy, it may, perhaps, sometimes be necessary to restrain the exportation of corn. In such great countries as France or England, it scarce ever can. To hinder, besides, the farmer from sending his goods at all times to the best market, is evidently to sacrifice the ordinary laws of justice to an idea of public utility, to a sort of reasons of state; an act or legislative authority which ought to be exercised only, which can be pardoned only, in cases of the most urgent necessity. The price at which exportation of corn is prohibited, if it is ever to be prohibited, ought always to be a very high price.
The laws concerning corn may everywhere be compared to the laws concerning religion. The people feel themselves so much interested in what relates either to their subsistence in this life, or to their happiness in a life to come, that government must yield to their prejudices, and, in order to preserve the public tranquillity, establish that system which they approve of. It is upon this account, perhaps, that we so seldom find a reasonable system established with regard to either of those two capital objects.
IV. The trade of the merchant-carrier, or of the importer of foreign corn, in order to export it again, contributes to the plentiful supply of the home market. It is not, indeed, the direct purpose of his trade to sell his corn there; but he will generally be willing to do so, and even for a good deal less money than he might expect in a foreign market; because he saves in this manner the expense of loading and unloading, of freight and insurance. The inhabitants of the country which, by means of the carrying trade, becomes the magazine and storehouse for the supply of other countries, can very seldom be in want themselves. Though the carrying trade must thus contribute to reduce the average money price of corn in the home market, it would not thereby lower its real value; it would only raise somewhat the real value of silver.
The carrying trade was in effect prohibited in Great Britain, upon all ordinary occasions, by the high duties upon the importation of foreign corn, of the greater part of which there was no drawback; and upon extraordinary occasions, when a scarcity made it necessary to suspend those duties by temporary statutes, exportation was always prohibited. By this system of laws, therefore, the carrying trade was in effect prohibited.
That system of laws, therefore, which is connected with the establishment of the bounty, seems to deserve no part of the praise which has been bestowed upon it. The improvement and prosperity of Great Britain, which has been so often ascribed to those laws, may very easily be accounted for by other causes. That security which the laws in Great Britain give to every man, that he shall enjoy the fruits of his own labour, is alone sufficient to make any country flourish, notwithstanding these and twenty other absurd regulations of commerce; and this security was perfected by the Revolution, much about the same time that the bounty was established. The natural effort of every individual to better his own condition, when suffered to exert itself with freedom and security, is so powerful a principle, that it is alone, and without any assistance, not only capable of carrying on the society to wealth and prosperity, but of surmounting a hundred impertinent obstructions, with which the folly of human laws too often encumbers its operations: though the effect of those obstructions is always, more or less, either to encroach upon its freedom, or to diminish its security. In Great Britain industry is perfectly secure; and though it is far from being perfectly free, it is as free or freer than in any other part of Europe.
Though the period of the greatest prosperity and improvement of Great Britain has been posterior to that system of laws which is connected with the bounty, we must not upon that account, impute it to those laws. It has been posterior likewise to the national debt; but the national debt has most assuredly not been the cause of it.
Though the system of laws which is connected with the bounty, has exactly the same tendency with the practice of Spain and Portugal, to lower somewhat the value of the precious metals in the country where it takes place; yet Great Britain is certainly one of the richest countries in Europe, while Spain and Portugal are perhaps amongst the most beggarly. This difference of situation, however, may easily be accounted for from two different causes. First, the tax in Spain, the prohibition in Portugal of exporting gold and silver, and the vigilant police which watches over the execution of those laws, must, in two very poor countries, which between them import annually upwards of six millions sterling, operate not only more directly, but much more forcibly, in reducing the value of those metals there, than the corn laws can do in Great Britain. And, secondly, this bad policy is not in those countries counterbalanced by the general liberty and security of the people. Industry is there neither free nor secure; and the civil and ecclesiastical governments of both Spain and Portugal are such as would alone be sufficient to perpetuate their present state of poverty, even though their regulations of commerce were as wise as the greatest part of them are absurd and foolish.
The 13th of the present king, c. 43, seems to have established a new system with regard to the corn laws, in many respects better than the ancient one, but in one or two respects perhaps not quite so good.
By this statute, the high duties upon importation for home consumption are taken off, so soon as the price of middling wheat rises to 48s. the quarter; that of middling rye, pease, or beans, to 32s.; that of barley to 24s.; and that of oats to 16s.; and instead of them, a small duty is imposed of only 6d upon the quarter of wheat, and upon that or other grain in proportion. With regard to all those different sorts of grain, but particularly with regard to wheat, the home market is thus opened to foreign supplies, at prices considerably lower than before.
By the same statute, the old bounty of 5s. upon the exportation of wheat, ceases so soon as the price rises to 44s. the quarter, instead of 48s. the price at which it ceased before; that of 2s:6d. upon the exportation of barley, ceases so soon as the price rises to 22s. instead of 24s. the price at which it ceased before; that of 2s:6d. upon the exportation of oatmeal, ceases so soon as the price rises to 14s. instead of 15s. the price at which it ceased before. The bounty upon rye is reduced from 3s:6d. to 3s. and it ceases so soon as the price rises to 28s. instead of 32s. the price at which it ceased before. If bounties are as improper as I have endeavoured to prove them to be, the sooner they cease, and the lower they are, so much the better.
The same statute permits, at the lowest prices, the importation of corn in order to be exported again, duty free, provided it is in the mean time lodged in a warehouse under the joint locks of the king and the importer. This liberty, indeed, extends to no more than twenty-five of the different ports of Great Britain. They are, however, the principal ones; and there may not, perhaps, be warehouses proper for this purpose in the greater part of the others.
So far this law seems evidently an improvement upon the ancient system.
But by the same law, a bounty of 2s. the quarter is given for the exportation of oats, whenever the price does not exceed fourteen shillings. No bounty had ever been given before for the exportation of this grain, no more than for that of pease or beans.
By the same law, too, the exportation of wheat is prohibited so soon as the price rises to forty-four shillings the quarter; that of rye so soon as it rises to twenty-eight shillings; that of barley so soon as it rises to twenty-two shillings; and that of oats so soon as they rise to fourteen shillings. Those several prices seem all of them a good deal too low; and there seems to be an impropriety, besides, in prohibiting exportation altogether at those precise prices at which that bounty, which was given in order to force it, is withdrawn. The bounty ought certainly either to have been withdrawn at a much lower price, or exportation ought to have been allowed at a much higher.
So far, therefore, this law seems to be inferior to the ancient system. With all its imperfections, however, we may perhaps say of it what was said of the laws of Solon, that though not the best in itself, it is the best which the interest, prejudices, and temper of the times, would admit of. It may perhaps in due time prepare the way for a better.
English
III. The trade of the merchant who exports corn for foreign consumption certainly does not contribute directly to an abundant supply in the home market. It does, however, contribute indirectly. Whatever the usual source of that supply, whether domestic production or foreign imports, the home market can never be very plentifully supplied unless the country ordinarily grows or imports more corn than it ordinarily consumes. Yet unless the surplus can ordinarily be exported, growers will take care never to grow, and importers never to import, more than the home market's bare consumption requires. That market will very rarely have too much corn; more often it will have too little, since those whose business it is to supply it generally fear being left with unsold goods. Prohibiting exports limits the country's improvement and cultivation to what its own inhabitants require. Allowing exports enables cultivation to expand to supply foreign nations.
By the 12th of Charles II. c.4, exporting corn was permitted whenever wheat did not exceed 40s. the quarter, with other grain priced proportionately. By the 15th of the same prince, this freedom was extended until wheat exceeded 48s. the quarter; and by the 22d, to all higher prices. A poundage was indeed payable to the king on such exports, but grain was valued so low in the book of rates that this charge came to only 1s. on wheat, 4d. on oats, and 6d. the quarter on all other grain. By the 1st of William and Mary, the act establishing the bounty, this small duty was effectively removed whenever wheat did not exceed 48s. the quarter; and by the 11th and 12th of William III. c. 20, it was expressly removed at every higher price.
The exporting merchant's trade was thus not only encouraged by a bounty but made much freer than the inland dealer's. Under the last of these statutes, corn could be engrossed at any price for export, but not for inland sale unless the price did not exceed 48s. the quarter. Yet the inland dealer's interest, as has already been shown, can never conflict with that of the great body of the people. The exporter's interest can, and sometimes does. If a neighboring country were stricken by famine while his own suffered a dearth, he might find it profitable to send the neighboring country enough corn to make the dearth at home much worse. The direct purpose of these statutes was not an abundant home supply; rather, under the pretense of encouraging agriculture, they sought to raise the money price of corn as high as possible, thereby creating, as far as possible, a constant dearth in the home market. Discouraging imports confined that market, even in times of great scarcity, to the domestic crop; encouraging exports even when the price stood as high as 48s. the quarter kept that market, even in times of considerable scarcity, from enjoying the whole domestic crop. The temporary laws to which Great Britain has so often had to resort, barring corn exports for a limited time and removing import duties for a limited time, sufficiently show how unsound her general system is. Had it been good, she would not so often have needed to depart from it.
If every nation adopted the liberal system of free exports and imports, the different states of a great continent would in this respect resemble the provinces of a great empire. Reason and experience alike show that free inland trade among an empire's provinces is not only the best means of relieving a dearth but the most effective means of preventing a famine; free export and import trade would do the same among the states of a great continent. The larger that continent, and the easier it is to travel among all its parts by land and water, the less any one region would be exposed to either calamity: the scarcity of one country could more readily be relieved by another's abundance. But very few countries have fully adopted this liberal system. Freedom in the corn trade is restricted almost everywhere to some degree; in many countries regulations so absurd constrain it that they frequently turn the unavoidable hardship of a dearth into the dreadful calamity of a famine. Their need for corn may become so great and urgent that a small neighboring state, itself then suffering some degree of dearth, could not venture to supply them without exposing itself to the same dreadful calamity. The very bad policy of one country may thus make it somewhat dangerous and imprudent for another to adopt what would otherwise be the best policy. Unlimited freedom to export would, however, be far less dangerous in large states, where production is much greater and supplies could seldom be much affected by whatever quantity of corn was likely to be exported. In a Swiss canton or one of the little states of Italy, restricting corn exports might sometimes be necessary. In great countries such as France or England, it scarcely ever can be. To prevent farmers from sending their goods to the best market at all times is, moreover, plainly to sacrifice the ordinary rules of justice to an idea of public utility, to a kind of reason of state. Such an exercise of legislative authority ought to occur—and can be excused—only in the most urgent necessity. If exports of corn must ever be prohibited, the price triggering prohibition ought always to be very high.
Laws about corn can everywhere be compared to laws about religion. People feel so deeply concerned with both their sustenance in this life and their happiness in a life to come that government must yield to their prejudices and, to preserve public peace, establish the system they approve. This is perhaps why we so seldom find a reasonable system established for either of these two matters of the highest importance.
IV. The carrying merchant's trade—that of importing foreign corn for reexport—helps keep the home market abundantly supplied. Selling his corn there is not, indeed, the direct purpose of his trade; yet he will generally be willing to do so, even for considerably less money than he might expect abroad, because he thereby saves the costs of loading and unloading, freight, and insurance. The inhabitants of a country that becomes a depot and storehouse supplying other countries through the carrying trade can very seldom be in want themselves. Though the carrying trade must thus lower corn's average money price in the home market, it would not lower its real value; it would merely raise the real value of silver somewhat.
In Great Britain the carrying trade was effectively prohibited in ordinary circumstances by the high import duties on foreign corn, most of which were not refunded on reexport. In extraordinary circumstances, when scarcity made it necessary to suspend those duties temporarily, exports were invariably prohibited. This system of laws therefore effectively prohibited the carrying trade.
The system of laws associated with the establishment of the bounty, then, seems to deserve none of the praise bestowed on it. Other causes can readily account for the improvement and prosperity of Great Britain so often attributed to these laws. The assurance given by British laws that everyone will enjoy the fruits of his own labor is alone sufficient to make any country prosper in spite of these and twenty other absurd commercial regulations. That assurance was secured by the Revolution, at about the same time the bounty was established. Every individual's natural effort to improve his own condition, when allowed to operate with freedom and security, is so powerful a force that it alone, unaided, can not only carry society toward wealth and prosperity but overcome a hundred petty obstacles with which the folly of human laws so often encumbers it—though those obstacles always, to some degree, either encroach on its freedom or diminish its security. Industry in Great Britain is entirely secure; and although far from entirely free, it is as free as, or freer than, anywhere else in Europe.
Although the period of Great Britain's greatest prosperity and improvement came after the establishment of the system of laws associated with the bounty, we must not attribute that prosperity to those laws. It also came after the national debt; but the national debt most certainly did not cause it.
The laws associated with the bounty tend, exactly as the practices of Spain and Portugal do, to reduce somewhat the value of precious metals in the country where they operate. Yet Great Britain is certainly among Europe's richest countries, while Spain and Portugal are perhaps among its poorest. Two distinct causes readily explain this difference. First, Spain's tax on exporting gold and silver, Portugal's prohibition of it, and the vigilant policing that enforces these laws must work both more directly and much more powerfully to lower the metals' value in these two very poor countries—which together import upwards of six millions sterling each year—than the corn laws do in Great Britain. Second, in those countries this bad policy is not offset by the people's general freedom and security. Industry there is neither free nor secure; and the civil and ecclesiastical governments of both Spain and Portugal would alone suffice to perpetuate their present poverty even if their commercial regulations were as wise as most of them are absurd and foolish.
The 13th of the present king, c. 43, seems to have established a new system of corn laws, better than the old in many respects, though perhaps not quite so good in one or two.
Under this statute, the high duties on imports for domestic consumption end as soon as middling wheat rises to 48s. the quarter; middling rye, pease, or beans to 32s.; barley to 24s.; and oats to 16s. In their place a small duty of only 6d per quarter of wheat is imposed, with duties on other grain in proportion. For all these kinds of grain, particularly wheat, the home market is thereby opened to foreign supplies at prices substantially lower than before.
Under the same statute, the old bounty of 5s. on exported wheat ends as soon as the price rises to 44s. the quarter, rather than 48s. as before; the bounty of 2s:6d. on exported barley ends when the price reaches 22s. rather than 24s.; and the bounty of 2s:6d. on exported oatmeal ends at 14s. rather than 15s. The bounty on rye is reduced from 3s:6d. to 3s. and ends when the price reaches 28s. rather than 32s. If bounties are as ill-advised as I have tried to prove, the sooner they end, and the smaller they are, the better.
The same statute permits corn to be imported at even the lowest prices, duty-free, for reexport, provided it is meanwhile kept in a warehouse secured under the joint locks of the king and the importer. This freedom does extend to only twenty-five of Great Britain's ports; but these are the principal ones, and most of the others may not have warehouses suitable for the purpose.
So far this law is plainly an improvement on the old system.
But the same law also grants a bounty of 2s. the quarter on exported oats whenever the price does not exceed fourteen shillings. No bounty had previously been given for exports of this grain, any more than for pease or beans.
The same law also prohibits the export of wheat as soon as its price rises to forty-four shillings the quarter; of rye at twenty-eight shillings; of barley at twenty-two shillings; and of oats at fourteen shillings. All these prices seem considerably too low. Moreover, there seems something improper in prohibiting exports altogether at precisely the prices at which the bounty meant to force them is withdrawn. Either the bounty should certainly have been withdrawn at a much lower price, or exports should have remained permitted at a much higher one.
In this respect, therefore, the law seems inferior to the old system. Yet despite all its defects, perhaps we may say of it what was said of Solon's laws: though not the best in itself, it is the best that the interests, prejudices, and temper of the times would allow. In time it may perhaps prepare the way for a better one.
Book IV, Chapter VI, 1
18th-century English
OF TREATIES OF COMMERCE.
When a nation binds itself by treaty, either to permit the entry of certain goods from one foreign country which it prohibits from all others, or to exempt the goods of one country from duties to which it subjects those of all others, the country, or at least the merchants and manufacturers of the country, whose commerce is so favoured, must necessarily derive great advantage from the treaty. Those merchants and manufacturers enjoy a sort of monopoly in the country which is so indulgent to them. That country becomes a market, both more extensive and more advantageous for their goods: more extensive, because the goods of other nations being either excluded or subjected to heavier duties, it takes off a greater quantity of theirs; more advantageous, because the merchants of the favoured country, enjoying a sort of monopoly there, will often sell their goods for a better price than if exposed to the free competition of all other nations.
Such treaties, however, though they may be advantageous to the merchants and manufacturers of the favoured, are necessarily disadvantageous to those of the favouring country. A monopoly is thus granted against them to a foreign nation; and they must frequently buy the foreign goods they have occasion for, dearer than if the free competition of other nations was admitted. That part of its own produce with which such a nation purchases foreign goods, must consequently be sold cheaper; because, when two things are exchanged for one another, the cheapness of the one is a necessary consequence, or rather is the same thing, with the dearness of the other. The exchangeable value of its annual produce, therefore, is likely to be diminished by every such treaty. This diminution, however, can scarce amount to any positive loss, but only to a lessening of the gain which it might otherwise make. Though it sells its goods cheaper than it otherwise might do, it will not probably sell them for less than they cost; nor, as in the case of bounties, for a price which will not replace the capital employed in bringing them to market, together with the ordinary profits of stock. The trade could not go on long if it did. Even the favouring country, therefore, may still gain by the trade, though less than if there was a free competition.
Some treaties of commerce, however, have been supposed advantageous, upon principles very different from these; and a commercial country has sometimes granted a monopoly of this kind, against itself, to certain goods of a foreign nation, because it expected, that in the whole commerce between them, it would annually sell more than it would buy, and that a balance in gold and silver would be annually returned to it. It is upon this principle that the treaty of commerce between England and Portugal, concluded in 1703 by Mr Methuen, has been so much commended. The following is a literal translation of that treaty, which consists of three articles only.
ART. I. His sacred royal majesty of Portugal promises, both in his own name and that of his successors, to admit for ever hereafter, into Portugal, the woollen cloths, and the rest of the woollen manufactures of the British, as was accustomed, till they were prohibited by the law; nevertheless upon this condition:
ART. II. That is to say, that her sacred royal majesty of Great Britain shall, in her own name, and that of her successors, be obliged, for ever hereafter, to admit the wines of the growth of Portugal into Britain; so that at no time, whether there shall be peace or war between the kingdoms of Britain and France, any thing more shall be demanded for these wines by the name of custom or duty, or by whatsoever other title, directly or indirectly, whether they shall be imported into Great Britain in pipes or hogsheads, or other casks, than what shall be demanded for the like quantity or measure of French wine, deducting or abating a third part of the custom or duty. But if, at any time, this deduction or abatement of customs, which is to be made as aforesaid, shall in any manner be attempted and prejudiced, it shall be just and lawful for his sacred royal majesty of Portugal, again to prohibit the woollen cloths, and the rest of the British woollen manufactures.
ART. III. The most excellent lords the plenipotentiaries promise and take upon themselves, that their above named masters shall ratify this treaty; and within the space of two months the ratification shall be exchanged.
By this treaty, the crown of Portugal becomes bound to admit the English woollens upon the same footing as before the prohibition; that is, not to raise the duties which had been paid before that time. But it does not become bound to admit them upon any better terms than those of any other nation, of France or Holland, for example. The crown of Great Britain, on the contrary, becomes bound to admit the wines of Portugal, upon paying only two-thirds of the duty which is paid for those of France, the wines most likely to come into competition with them. So far this treaty, therefore, is evidently advantageous to Portugal, and disadvantageous to Great Britain.
It has been celebrated, however, as a masterpiece of the commercial policy of England. Portugal receives annually from the Brazils a greater quantity of gold than can be employed in its domestic commerce, whether in the shape of coin or of plate. The surplus is too valuable to be allowed to lie idle and locked up in coffers; and as it can find no advantageous market at home, it must, notwithstanding; any prohibition, be sent abroad, and exchanged for something for which there is a more advantageous market at home. A large share of it comes annually to England, in return either for English goods, or for those of other European nations that receive their returns through England. Mr Barretti was informed, that the weekly packet-boat from Lisbon brings, one week with another, more than £50,000 in gold to England. The sum had probably been exaggerated. It would amount to more than £2,600,000 a year, which is more than the Brazils are supposed to afford.
Our merchants were, some years ago, out of humour with the crown of Portugal. Some privileges which had been granted them, not by treaty, but by the free grace of that crown, at the solicitation, indeed, it is probable, and in return for much greater favours, defence and protection from the crown of Great Britain, had been either infringed or revoked. The people, therefore, usually most interested in celebrating the Portugal trade, were then rather disposed to represent it as less advantageous than it had commonly been imagined. The far greater part, almost the whole, they pretended, of this annual importation of gold, was not on account of Great Britain, but of other European nations; the fruits and wines of Portugal annually imported into Great Britain nearly compensating the value of the British goods sent thither.
Let us suppose, however, that the whole was on account of Great Britain, and that it amounted to a still greater sum than Mr Barretti seems to imagine; this trade would not, upon that account, be more advantageous than any other, in which, for the same value sent out, we received an equal value of consumable goods in return.
It is but a very small part of this importation which, it can be supposed, is employed as an annual addition, either to the plate or to the coin of the kingdom. The rest must all be sent abroad, and exchanged for consumable goods of some kind or other. But if those consumable goods were purchased directly with the produce of English industry, it would be more for the advantage of England, than first to purchase with that produce the gold of Portugal, and afterwards to purchase with that gold those consumable goods. A direct foreign trade of consumption is always more advantageous than a round-about one; and to bring the same value of foreign goods to the home market requires a much smaller capital in the one way than in the ether. If a smaller share of its industry, therefore, had been employed in producing goods fit for the Portugal market, and a greater in producing those lit for the other markets, where those consumable goods for which there is a demand in Great Britain are to be had, it would have been more for the advantage of England. To procure both the gold which it wants for its own use, and the consumable goods, would, in this way, employ a much smaller capital than at present. There would be a spare capital, therefore, to be employed for other purposes, in exciting an additional quantity of industry, and in raising a greater annual produce.
Though Britain were entirely excluded from the Portugal trade, it could find very little difficulty in procuring all the annual supplies of gold which it wants, either for the purposes of plate, or of coin, or of foreign trade. Gold, like every other commodity, is always somewhere or another to be got for its value by those who have that value to give for it. The annual surplus of gold in Portugal, besides, would still be sent abroad, and though not carried away by Great Britain, would be carried away by some other nation, which would be glad to sell it again for its price, in the same manner as Great Britain does at present. In buying gold of Portugal, indeed, we buy it at the first hand; whereas, in buying it of any other nation, except Spain, we should buy it at the second, and might pay somewhat dearer. This difference, however, would surely be too insignificant to deserve the public attention.
Almost all our gold, it is said, comes from Portugal. With other nations, the balance of trade is either against as, or not much in our favour. But we should remember, that the more gold we import from one country, the less we must necessarily import from all others. The effectual demand for gold, like that for every other commodity, is in every country limited to a certain quantity. If nine-tenths of this quantity are imported from one country, there remains a tenth only to be imported from all others. The more gold, besides, that is annually imported from some particular countries, over and above what is requisite for plate and for coin, the more must necessarily be exported to some others: and the more that most insignificant object of modern policy, the balance of trade, appears to be in our favour with some particular countries, the more it must necessarily appear to be against us with many others.
It was upon this silly notion, however, that England could not subsist without the Portugal trade, that, towards the end of the late war, France and Spain, without pretending either offence or provocation, required the king of Portugal to exclude all British ships from his ports, and, for the security of this exclusion, to receive into them French or Spanish garrisons. Had the king of Portugal submitted to those ignominious terms which his brother-in-law the king of Spain proposed to him, Britain would have been freed from a much greater inconveniency than the loss of the Portugal trade, the burden of supporting a very weak ally, so unprovided of every thing for his own defence, that the whole power of England, had it been directed to that single purpose, could scarce, perhaps, have defended him for another campaign. The loss of the Portugal trade would, no doubt, have occasioned a considerable embarrassment to the merchants at that time engaged in it, who might not, perhaps, have found out, for a year or two, any other equally advantageous method of employing their capitals; and in this would probably have consisted all the inconveniency which England could have suffered from this notable piece of commercial policy.
The great annual importation of gold and silver is neither for the purpose of plate nor of coin, but of foreign trade. A round-about foreign trade of consumption can be carried on more advantageously by means of these metals than of almost any other goods. As they are the universal instruments of commerce, they are more readily received in return for all commodities than any other goods; and, on account of their small bulk and great value, it costs less to transport them backward and forward from one place to another than almost any other sort of merchandize, and they lose less of their value by being so transported. Of all the commodities, therefore, which are bought in one foreign country, for no other purpose but to be sold or exchanged again for some other goods in another, there are none so convenient as gold and silver. In facilitating all the different round-about foreign trades of consumption which are carried on in Great Britain, consists the principal advantage of the Portugal trade; and though it is not a capital advantage, it is, no doubt, a considerable one.
That any annual addition which, it can reasonably be supposed, is made either to the plate or to the coin of the kingdom, could require but a very small annual importation of gold and silver, seems evident enough; and though we had no direct trade with Portugal, this small quantity could always, somewhere or another, be very easily got.
Though the goldsmiths trade be very considerable in Great Britain, the far greater part of the new plate which they annually sell, is made from other old plate melted down; so that the addition annually made to the whole plate of the kingdom cannot be very great, and could require but a very small annual importation.
English
ON TREATIES OF COMMERCE.
When a nation binds itself by treaty either to admit certain goods from one foreign country while excluding them from every other, or to exempt one country's goods from duties imposed on those of every other country, the favored country—or at least its merchants and manufacturers—must necessarily gain a great advantage from the treaty. Those merchants and manufacturers enjoy a kind of monopoly in the country granting them this privilege. That country becomes both a larger and a more profitable market for their goods: larger because, with other nations' goods excluded or charged heavier duties, it buys more of theirs; more profitable because the favored country's merchants, enjoying a kind of monopoly there, can often sell at a better price than they could under free competition from all other nations.
Yet such treaties, though they may benefit the favored country's merchants and manufacturers, necessarily disadvantage those of the country granting the favor. A foreign nation is given a monopoly at their expense, and they must often pay more for the foreign goods they need than if other nations were free to compete. The portion of the favoring nation's produce with which it buys foreign goods must consequently sell more cheaply: when two things are exchanged, one thing's cheapness necessarily follows from—or rather is identical with—the other's dearness. The exchangeable value of its annual produce is thus likely to be reduced by every such treaty. This reduction, however, can scarcely mean an actual loss, only a smaller gain than might otherwise be made. Though the nation sells its goods for less than it otherwise might, it will probably not sell them below cost or, as under bounties, at a price insufficient to replace the capital employed in bringing them to market together with the ordinary profits of stock. The trade could not last long if it did. Even the nation granting the favor, therefore, may still gain by the trade, though less than it would under free competition.
Some commercial treaties, however, have been thought beneficial on very different grounds. A commercial country has sometimes granted foreign goods this kind of monopoly against its own interests because it expected, in the total commerce between the two countries, to sell more each year than it bought and to receive an annual balance in gold and silver. It is on this principle that the commercial treaty concluded between England and Portugal in 1703 by Mr Methuen has been so highly praised. The following is a literal translation of that treaty, which has only three articles.
ART. I. His sacred royal majesty of Portugal promises, both in his own name and in the name of his successors, to admit into Portugal forever hereafter the woolen cloths and other woolen manufactures of the British, as was customary before the law prohibited them; nevertheless, on this condition:
ART. II. Her sacred royal majesty of Great Britain shall, in her own name and that of her successors, be bound forever hereafter to admit into Britain wines grown in Portugal. At no time, whether the kingdoms of Britain and France are at peace or at war, shall any custom, duty, or other charge, directly or indirectly, be demanded for these wines, whether imported into Great Britain in pipes, hogsheads, or other casks, beyond what is demanded for an equal quantity or measure of French wine less one-third of that custom or duty. But if anyone at any time attempts in any way to impair this deduction or abatement of customs, as provided above, his sacred royal majesty of Portugal shall be entitled to prohibit once more the woolen cloths and other British woolen manufactures.
ART. III. The most excellent lords plenipotentiary promise and undertake that their above-named sovereigns shall ratify this treaty, and that the ratifications shall be exchanged within two months.
By this treaty the crown of Portugal is bound to admit English woolens on the same terms as before the prohibition: that is, not to raise the duties previously paid. It is not bound to admit them on better terms than those offered to any other nation, France or Holland, for example. The crown of Great Britain, by contrast, is bound to admit Portuguese wines on payment of only two-thirds the duty charged on French wines, their most likely competitors. In this respect, therefore, the treaty is plainly advantageous to Portugal and disadvantageous to Great Britain.
Nevertheless it has been celebrated as a masterpiece of English commercial policy. Portugal annually receives from the Brazils more gold than its domestic commerce can employ, whether as coin or as plate. The surplus is too valuable to be left idle and locked in coffers; unable to find a profitable market at home, it must be sent abroad in spite of any prohibition and exchanged for something that has a better market at home. A large portion comes to England every year in payment either for English goods or for goods of other European nations whose returns pass through England. Mr Barretti was told that, on average, the weekly packet boat from Lisbon brings more than £50,000 in gold to England. The figure was probably exaggerated: it would total more than £2,600,000 a year, more than the Brazils are supposed to produce.
Some years ago our merchants were displeased with the crown of Portugal. Certain privileges granted to them not by treaty but by that crown's free grace—probably at the request of the British crown, and in return for far greater favors in the form of defense and protection—had been infringed or revoked. The people ordinarily most interested in praising the Portugal trade were therefore inclined at the time to portray it as less profitable than commonly supposed. Almost all of this yearly import of gold, they claimed, was on account not of Great Britain but of other European nations, while the Portuguese fruit and wine imported into Great Britain each year nearly made up the value of the British goods sent to Portugal.
But suppose that the whole import was on account of Great Britain and amounted to even more than Mr Barretti appears to imagine. This would not make the trade more advantageous than any other in which goods sent out for the same value brought back an equal value of consumable goods.
Only a very small portion of this imported gold can be supposed to add each year to the kingdom's plate or coin. All the rest must be sent abroad and exchanged for consumable goods of one kind or another. But England would be better off buying those consumable goods directly with the produce of English industry than first buying Portuguese gold with that produce and then buying the goods with the gold. Direct foreign trade in goods for consumption is always more advantageous than indirect trade: to bring the same value of foreign goods into the home market requires much less capital by the first route than by the second. If less of our industry had therefore been employed in producing goods suitable for the Portugal market, and more in producing goods suitable for the other markets where the consumable goods wanted in Great Britain can be obtained, England would have benefited. Obtaining both the gold needed for its own use and those consumable goods would then employ much less capital than it does now. Capital would consequently remain available for other purposes, to stimulate more industry and raise a greater annual produce.
Even if Britain were excluded entirely from the Portugal trade, it would have little difficulty obtaining all the gold it needs each year for plate, coin, or foreign trade. Gold, like any other commodity, can always be obtained somewhere at its value by those who have that value to offer. Portugal's annual surplus of gold would still be sent abroad; if Great Britain did not take it, some other nation would and would gladly sell it again for its price, just as Great Britain now does. In buying gold from Portugal, to be sure, we buy it firsthand; buying it from any other nation except Spain would mean buying it secondhand, perhaps at a somewhat higher price. Surely this difference would be too slight to merit public concern.
Nearly all our gold, it is said, comes from Portugal. Our balance of trade with other nations is either against us or only slightly in our favor. But we should remember that the more gold we import from one country, the less we must necessarily import from all the others. Like the effective demand for any other commodity, a country's effective demand for gold is limited to a certain quantity. If nine-tenths of it is imported from one country, only one-tenth remains to be imported from all the others. Moreover, the more gold we import each year from certain countries beyond what we need for plate and coin, the more we must export to others. Thus the more the balance of trade—that most insignificant concern of modern policy—appears in our favor with some countries, the more it must necessarily appear against us with many others.
Yet it was on this foolish idea, that England could not survive without the Portugal trade, that France and Spain, toward the end of the late war, demanded without even alleging an offense or provocation that the king of Portugal exclude every British ship from his ports and admit French or Spanish garrisons to secure that exclusion. Had the king of Portugal accepted the humiliating terms proposed by his brother-in-law the king of Spain, Britain would have been rid of an inconvenience much greater than losing the Portugal trade: the burden of supporting an exceedingly weak ally, so ill provided with everything needed for his own defense that even the whole power of England, directed solely to that purpose, might scarcely have defended him for another campaign. Losing the Portugal trade would undoubtedly have caused serious difficulty for merchants then engaged in it, who might not have found another equally profitable use for their capitals for a year or two. That would probably have been the whole inconvenience England suffered from this remarkable piece of commercial policy.
The great annual import of gold and silver serves neither plate nor coin but foreign trade. Indirect foreign trade in goods for consumption can be conducted more advantageously with these metals than with almost any other goods. As the universal instruments of commerce, they are more readily accepted in exchange for all commodities than any other goods; and their high value in a small bulk makes them cheaper to carry back and forth between places than almost any other merchandise, with less loss of value in transit. Of all commodities bought in one foreign country solely to be sold or exchanged for other goods in another, therefore, none are as convenient as gold and silver. The chief advantage of the Portugal trade lies in facilitating all the various indirect foreign trades in goods for consumption conducted in Great Britain. Though this is not a decisive advantage, it is certainly a considerable one.
It seems plain enough that any annual addition that could reasonably be supposed to be made to the kingdom's plate or coin would call for only a very small annual import of gold and silver. Even without direct trade with Portugal, that small quantity could always readily be obtained somewhere.
Although the goldsmiths' trade is considerable in Great Britain, by far the greater part of the new plate they sell each year is made from old plate melted down. The annual addition to the kingdom's entire stock of plate therefore cannot be very great and would require only a very small annual import.
Book IV, Chapter VI, 2
18th-century English
It is the same case with the coin. Nobody imagines, I believe, that even the greater part of the annual coinage, amounting, for ten years together, before the late reformation of the gold coin, to upwards of £800,000 a-year in gold, was an annual addition to the money before current in the kingdom. In a country where the expense of the coinage is defrayed by the government, the value of the coin, even when it contains its full standard weight of gold and silver, can never be much greater than that of an equal quantity of those metals uncoined, because it requires only the trouble of going to the mint, and the delay, perhaps, of a few weeks, to procure for any quantity of uncoined gold and silver an equal quantity of those metals in coin; but in every country the greater part of the current coin is almost always more or less worn, or otherwise degenerated from its standard. In Great Britain it was, before the late reformation, a good deal so, the gold being more than two per cent., and the silver more than eight per cent. below its standard weight. But if forty-four guineas and a-half, containing their full standard weight, a pound weight of gold, could purchase very little more than a pound weight of uncoined gold; forty-four guineas and a-half, wanting a part of their weight, could not purchase a pound weight, and something was to be added, in order to make up the deficiency. The current price of gold bullion at market, therefore, instead of being the same with the mint price, or £46:14:6, was then about £47:14s., and sometimes about £48. When the greater part of the coin, however, was in this degenerate condition, forty four guineas and a-half, fresh from the mint, would purchase no more goods in the market than any other ordinary guineas; because, when they came into the coffers of the merchant, being confounded with other money, they could not afterwards be distinguished without more trouble than the difference was worth. Like other guineas, they were worth no more than £46:14:6. If thrown into the melting pot, however, they produced, without any sensible loss, a pound weight of standard gold, which could be sold at any time for between £47:14s. and £48, either in gold or silver, as fit for all the purposes of coin as that which had been melted down. There was an evident profit, therefore, in melting down new-coined money; and it was done so instantaneously, that no precaution of government could prevent it. The operations of the mint were, upon this account, somewhat like the web of Penelope; the work that was done in the day was undone in the night. The mint was employed, not so much in making daily additions to the coin, as in replacing the very best part of it, which was daily melted down.
Were the private people who carry their gold and silver to the mint to pay themselves for the coinage, it would add to the value of those metals, in the same manner as the fashion does to that of plate. Coined gold and silver would be more valuable than uncoined. The seignorage, if it was not exorbitant, would add to the bullion the whole value of the duty; because, the government having everywhere the exclusive privilege of coining, no coin can come to market cheaper than they think proper to afford it. If the duty was exorbitant, indeed, that is, if it was very much above the real value of the labour and expense requisite for coinage, false coiners, both at home and abroad, might be encouraged, by the great difference between the value of bullion and that of coin, to pour in so great a quantity of counterfeit money as might reduce the value of the government money. In France, however, though the seignorage is eight per cent., no sensible inconveniency of this kind is found to arise from it. The dangers to which a false coiner is everywhere exposed, if he lives in the country of which he counterfeits the coin, and to which his agents or correspondents are exposed, if he lives in a foreign country, are by far too great to be incurred for the sake of a profit of six or seven per cent.
The seignorage in France raises the value of the coin higher than in proportion to the quantity of pure gold which it contains. Thus, by the edict of January 1726, the mint price of fine gold of twenty-four carats was fixed at seven hundred and forty livres nine sous and one denier one-eleventh the mark of eight Paris ounces. {See Dictionnaire des Monnoies, tom. ii. article Seigneurage, p. 439, par 81. Abbot de Bazinghen, Conseiller-Commissaire en la Cour des Monnoies à Paris.} The gold coin of France, making an allowance for the remedy of the mint, contains twenty-one carats and three-fourths of fine gold, and two carats one-fourth of alloy. The mark of standard gold, therefore, is worth no more than about six hundred and seventy-one livres ten deniers. But in France this mark of standard gold is coined into thirty louis d’ors of twenty-four livres each, or into seven hundred and twenty livres. The coinage, therefore, increases the value of a mark of standard gold bullion, by the difference between six hundred and seventy-one livres ten deniers and seven hundred and twenty livres, or by forty-eight livres nineteen sous and two deniers.
A seignorage will, in many cases, take away altogether, and will in all cases diminish, the profit of melting down the new coin. This profit always arises from the difference between the quantity of bullion which the common currency ought to contain and that which it actually does contain. If this difference is less than the seignorage, there will be loss instead of profit. If it is equal to the seignorage, there will be neither profit nor loss. If it is greater than the seignorage, there will, indeed, be some profit, but less than if there was no seignorage. If, before the late reformation of the gold coin, for example, there had been a seignorage of five per cent. upon the coinage, there would have been a loss of three per cent. upon the melting down of the gold coin. If the seignorage had been two per cent., there would have been neither profit nor loss. If the seignorage had been one per cent., there would have been a profit but of one per cent. only, instead of two per cent. Wherever money is received by tale, therefore, and not by weight, a seignorage is the most effectual preventive of the melting down of the coin, and, for the same reason, of its exportation. It is the best and heaviest pieces that are commonly either melted down or exported, because it is upon such that the largest profits are made.
The law for the encouragement of the coinage, by rendering it duty-free, was first enacted during the reign of Charles II. for a limited time, and afterwards continued, by different prolongations, till 1769, when it was rendered perpetual. The bank of England, in order to replenish their coffers with money, are frequently obliged to carry bullion to the mint; and it was more for their interest, they probably imagined, that the coinage should be at the expense of the government than at their own. It was probably out of complaisance to this great company, that the government agreed to render this law perpetual. Should the custom of weighing gold, however, come to be disused, as it is very likely to be on account of its inconveniency; should the gold coin of England come to be received by tale, as it was before the late recoinage this great company may, perhaps, find that they have, upon this, as upon some other occasions, mistaken their own interest not a little.
Before the late recoinage, when the gold currency of England was two per cent. below its standard weight, as there was no seignorage, it was two per cent. below the value of that quantity of standard gold bullion which it ought to have contained. When this great company, therefore, bought gold bullion in order to have it coined, they were obliged to pay for it two per cent. more than it was worth after the coinage. But if there had been a seignorage of two per cent. upon the coinage, the common gold currency, though two per cent. below its standard weight, would, notwithstanding, have been equal in value to the quantity of standard gold which it ought to have contained; the value of the fashion compensating in this case the diminution of the weight. They would, indeed, have had the seignorage to pay, which being two per cent., their loss upon the whole transaction would have been two per cent., exactly the same, but no greater than it actually was.
If the seignorage had been five per cent. and the gold currency only two per cent. below its standard weight, the bank would, in this case, have gained three per cent. upon the price of the bullion; but as they would have had a seignorage of five per cent. to pay upon the coinage, their loss upon the whole transaction would, in the same manner, have been exactly two per cent.
If the seignorage had been only one per cent., and the gold currency two per cent. below its standard weight, the bank would, in this case, have lost only one per cent. upon the price of the bullion; but as they would likewise have had a seignorage of one per cent. to pay, their loss upon the whole transaction would have been exactly two per cent., in the same manner as in all other cases.
If there was a reasonable seignorage, while at the same time the coin contained its full standard weight, as it has done very nearly since the late recoinage, whatever the bank might lose by the seignorage, they would gain upon the price of the bullion; and whatever they might gain upon the price of the bullion, they would lose by the seignorage. They would neither lose nor gain, therefore, upon the whole transaction, and they would in this, as in all the foregoing cases, be exactly in the same situation as if there was no seignorage.
When the tax upon a commodity is so moderate as not to encourage smuggling, the merchant who deals in it, though he advances, does not properly pay the tax, as he gets it back in the price of the commodity. The tax is finally paid by the last purchaser or consumer. But money is a commodity, with regard to which every man is a merchant. Nobody buys it but in order to sell it again; and with regard to it there is, in ordinary cases, no last purchaser or consumer. When the tax upon coinage, therefore, is so moderate as not to encourage false coining, though every body advances the tax, nobody finally pays it; because every body gets it back in the advanced value of the coin.
A moderate seignorage, therefore, would not, in any case, augment the expense of the bank, or of any other private persons who carry their bullion to the mint in order to be coined; and the want of a moderate seignorage does not in any case diminish it. Whether there is or is not a seignorage, if the currency contains its full standard weight, the coinage costs nothing to anybody; and if it is short of that weight, the coinage must always cost the difference between the quantity of bullion which ought to be contained in it, and that which actually is contained in it.
The government, therefore, when it defrays the expense of coinage, not only incurs some small expense, but loses some small revenue which it might get by a proper duty; and neither the bank, nor any other private persons, are in the smallest degree benefited by this useless piece of public generosity.
The directors of the bank, however, would probably be unwilling to agree to the imposition of a seignorage upon the authority of a speculation which promises them no gain, but only pretends to insure them from any loss. In the present state of the gold coin, and as long as it continues to be received by weight, they certainly would gain nothing by such a change. But if the custom of weighing the gold coin should ever go into disuse, as it is very likely to do, and if the gold coin should ever fall into the same state of degradation in which it was before the late recoinage, the gain, or more properly the savings, of the bank, in consequence of the imposition of a seignorage, would probably be very considerable. The bank of England is the only company which sends any considerable quantity of bullion to the mint, and the burden of the annual coinage falls entirely, or almost entirely, upon it. If this annual coinage had nothing to do but to repair the unavoidable losses and necessary wear and tear of the coin, it could seldom exceed fifty thousand, or at most a hundred thousand pounds. But when the coin is degraded below its standard weight, the annual coinage must, besides this, fill up the large vacuities which exportation and the melting pot are continually making in the current coin. It was upon this account, that during the ten or twelve years immediately preceding the late reformation of the gold coin, the annual coinage amounted, at an average, to more than £850,000. But if there had been a seignorage of four or five per cent. upon the gold coin, it would probably, even in the state in which things then were, have put an effectual stop to the business both of exportation and of the melting pot. The bank, instead of losing every year about two and a half per cent. upon the bullion which was to be coined into more than eight hundred and fifty thousand pounds, or incurring an annual loss of more than £21,250 pounds, would not probably have incurred the tenth part of that loss.
The revenue allotted by parliament for defraying the expense of the coinage is but fourteen thousand pounds a-year; and the real expense which it costs the government, or the fees of the officers of the mint, do not, upon ordinary occasions, I am assured, exceed the half of that sum. The saving of so very small a sum, or even the gaining of another, which could not well be much larger, are objects too inconsiderable, it may be thought, to deserve the serious attention of government. But the saving of eighteen or twenty thousand pounds a-year, in case of an event which is not improbable, which has frequently happened before, and which is very likely to happen again, is surely an object which well deserves the serious attention, even of so great a company as the bank of England.
Some of the foregoing reasonings and observations might, perhaps, have been more properly placed in those chapters of the first book which treat of the origin and use of money, and of the difference between the real and the nominal price of commodities. But as the law for the encouragement of coinage derives its origin from those vulgar prejudices which have been introduced by the mercantile system, I judged it more proper to reserve them for this chapter. Nothing could be more agreeable to the spirit of that system than a sort of bounty upon the production of money, the very thing which, it supposes, constitutes the wealth of every nation. It is one of its many admirable expedients for enriching the country.
English
The same is true of coin. No one imagines, I believe, that even the greater part of the annual coinage—which for ten years before the recent reform of the gold coin amounted to upwards of £800,000 a year in gold—was added each year to the money already circulating in the kingdom. Where the government pays for coinage, the value of a coin, even one containing its full standard weight of gold or silver, can never greatly exceed that of the same quantity of uncoined metal: anyone can obtain coin for uncoined gold or silver merely by taking it to the mint and waiting, perhaps, a few weeks. Yet in every country most circulating coin is almost always worn to some degree, or otherwise fallen below the standard. In Great Britain before the recent reform, this was decidedly so: gold was more than two per cent., and silver more than eight per cent., below its standard weight. Now if forty-four guineas and a half, at their full standard weight of a pound of gold, could buy scarcely more than a pound of uncoined gold, forty-four guineas and a half that had lost some weight could not buy a pound without an additional payment to make up the difference. The market price of gold bullion, therefore, instead of equaling the mint price of £46:14:6, was then about £47:14s., and sometimes about £48. Yet when most coin was in this diminished state, forty four guineas and a half fresh from the mint bought no more goods than the same number of ordinary guineas. Once they entered a merchant's coffers and mingled with the rest, distinguishing them afterward would cost more trouble than the difference was worth. Like other guineas, they were worth no more than £46:14:6. Melted down, however, they yielded, with no perceptible loss, a pound of standard gold, which could always be sold for between £47:14s. and £48, in gold or silver equally suitable for all the purposes of coin as the metal just melted. Melting new coin thus offered an obvious profit, and happened so promptly that no government precaution could prevent it. The mint's operations were rather like Penelope's weaving: the day's work was undone at night. Instead of adding daily to the coin, the mint was chiefly replacing its finest part, which was melted down daily.
If private people bringing gold and silver to the mint had to pay for coinage themselves, it would increase the value of those metals just as workmanship increases the value of plate. Coined gold and silver would be worth more than uncoined. Provided it was not excessive, the seignorage would add the whole amount of the charge to the bullion's value, for the government everywhere holds the exclusive right to coin, and no coin can reach the market more cheaply than it chooses to supply it. If the charge were excessive, however—that is, far above the actual labor and expense of coinage—the great difference between bullion and coin might induce counterfeiters at home and abroad to flood the market with enough false money to lower the value of government coin. Yet in France, where the seignorage is eight per cent., no appreciable inconvenience of this sort appears. The dangers facing a counterfeiter who lives in the country whose coin he imitates, or his agents and correspondents if he lives abroad, are far too great to risk for a profit of six or seven per cent.
In France, seignorage raises the coin's value beyond what the amount of pure gold in it would warrant. The edict of January 1726, for example, fixed the mint price of fine gold of twenty-four carats at seven hundred and forty livres nine sous and one denier one-eleventh for the mark of eight Paris ounces. [See Dictionnaire des Monnoies, tom. ii. article Seigneurage, p. 439, par 81. Abbot de Bazinghen, Conseiller-Commissaire en la Cour des Monnoies à Paris.] Allowing for the mint's permitted variation, French gold coin contains twenty-one carats and three-fourths of fine gold and two carats one-fourth of alloy. A mark of standard gold is therefore worth only about six hundred and seventy-one livres ten deniers. In France, however, this mark is coined into thirty louis d’ors of twenty-four livres apiece, or seven hundred and twenty livres. Coinage thus increases the value of a mark of standard gold bullion by the difference between six hundred and seventy-one livres ten deniers and seven hundred and twenty livres: forty-eight livres nineteen sous and two deniers.
Seignorage will often eliminate the profit from melting new coin altogether, and will always reduce it. That profit arises from the difference between the bullion ordinary circulating coin ought to contain and the bullion it actually contains. If the difference is smaller than the seignorage, melting brings a loss; if equal, neither profit nor loss; if larger, some profit remains, but less than without seignorage. If, for example, before the recent reform of gold coin, coinage had carried a seignorage of five per cent., melting gold coin would have brought a loss of three per cent. At two per cent. seignorage there would have been neither profit nor loss. At one per cent. there would have been a profit of only one per cent., rather than two per cent. Wherever money is accepted by count rather than weight, seignorage is therefore the most effective safeguard against melting coin, and, for the same reason, against exporting it. It is generally the best and heaviest pieces that are melted or exported, since they yield the greatest profit.
The law encouraging coinage by making it duty-free was first enacted for a limited period under Charles II., and then extended repeatedly until 1769, when it was made permanent. To replenish its coffers, the bank of England is often obliged to take bullion to the mint; its directors probably thought it better that the government should pay for coinage than that they should. Probably to oblige this great company, the government agreed to make the law permanent. Yet if the practice of weighing gold falls out of use, as its inconvenience makes quite likely, and English gold coin again comes to be accepted by count as it was before the recent recoinage, this great company may discover that here, as on other occasions, it has seriously mistaken its own interest.
Before the recent recoinage, English gold currency was two per cent. below standard weight; with no seignorage, its value was therefore two per cent. below that of the standard gold bullion it ought to have contained. When this great company bought bullion to have it coined, it consequently paid two per cent. more for it than the resulting coin was worth. With a seignorage of two per cent., however, the common gold currency, though two per cent. short of standard weight, would still have equaled in value the standard quantity it ought to have contained: the value added by coinage would have made up for the lost weight. The bank would indeed have paid the seignorage of two per cent., so its loss on the entire transaction would have been exactly two per cent.—the same as its actual loss, and no greater.
If seignorage had been five per cent. while gold currency was only two per cent. below standard weight, the bank would have gained three per cent. on the price of bullion. But having to pay five per cent. seignorage for coinage, it would again have lost exactly two per cent. on the transaction as a whole.
If seignorage had been only one per cent. while gold currency was two per cent. below standard weight, the bank would have lost only one per cent. on the bullion's price. But it would also have paid one per cent. seignorage, making its loss on the entire transaction exactly two per cent., as in every other case.
If a reasonable seignorage were charged while coin held its full standard weight, as it has very nearly done since the recent recoinage, whatever the bank lost on seignorage it would gain on the bullion's price, and whatever it gained on the bullion's price it would lose on seignorage. On the transaction as a whole it would neither gain nor lose; here, as in all the preceding cases, its position would be exactly what it would have been without seignorage.
When a tax on a commodity is moderate enough not to encourage smuggling, a merchant dealing in it advances the tax but does not truly pay it: he recovers it in the commodity's price. The final purchaser or consumer pays it. Money, however, is a commodity in which every person is a merchant. No one buys it except to sell it again, and ordinarily there is no final purchaser or consumer. Thus when a tax on coinage is moderate enough not to encourage counterfeiting, everybody advances the tax but nobody finally pays it, because everybody recovers it through the coin's increased value.
A moderate seignorage, then, would never increase the expense of the bank or of any other private person bringing bullion to the mint for coinage; nor does the absence of such a seignorage ever reduce that expense. Whether seignorage is charged or not, if the currency contains its full standard weight, coinage costs nobody anything. If it falls short of that weight, coinage must always cost the difference between the bullion it ought to contain and the bullion it does contain.
When the government pays for coinage, therefore, it not only incurs a small expense but forfeits the small revenue a proper charge might bring; neither the bank nor any other private person benefits in the least from this useless act of public generosity.
The bank's directors, however, would probably be reluctant to agree to seignorage on the strength of a theory promising them no gain, merely protection against loss. Given the present state of gold coin, and while it continues to be accepted by weight, they would certainly gain nothing from the change. But if weighing gold coin ever goes out of fashion, as seems very likely, and the coin again falls as far below standard as it did before the recent recoinage, seignorage would probably bring the bank a very considerable gain—or, more properly, saving. The bank of England is the only company that sends a substantial quantity of bullion to the mint, and the burden of annual coinage falls wholly, or almost wholly, upon it. If annual coinage merely had to replace the inevitable losses and ordinary wear of coin, it would seldom exceed fifty thousand, or at most a hundred thousand pounds. But when coin has fallen below standard weight, annual coinage must also fill the great gaps that export and the melting pot continually leave in circulating money. For this reason, during the ten or twelve years immediately before the recent reform of gold coin, annual coinage averaged more than £850,000. A seignorage of four or five per cent. on gold coin would probably have stopped both export and melting effectively even under the conditions then prevailing. Instead of losing about two and a half per cent. each year on the bullion coined into more than eight hundred and fifty thousand pounds—an annual loss of more than £21,250 pounds—the bank probably would not have suffered a tenth of that loss.
Parliament allocates only fourteen thousand pounds a year to cover the expense of coinage; and I am assured that the actual cost to the government, the fees of the mint officers, ordinarily does not exceed half that amount. Saving so small a sum, or even gaining another unlikely to be much larger, might seem too insignificant to deserve the government's serious attention. But saving eighteen or twenty thousand pounds a year if an event occurs that is not improbable, has often happened before, and is very likely to happen again, surely deserves the serious attention even of a company as great as the bank of England.
Some of the preceding arguments and observations might perhaps have belonged more properly in the chapters of the first book concerning the origin and use of money and the difference between commodities' real and nominal prices. But since the law encouraging coinage springs from the common prejudices introduced by the mercantile system, I thought it more appropriate to reserve them for this chapter. Nothing could better suit the spirit of that system than a kind of bounty for producing money—the very thing it supposes to constitute the wealth of every nation. It is one of the system's many admirable devices for enriching the country.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 1
18th-century English
OF COLONIES.
PART I. Of the Motives for Establishing New Colonies.
The interest which occasioned the first settlement of the different European colonies in America and the West Indies, was not altogether so plain and distinct as that which directed the establishment of those of ancient Greece and Rome.
All the different states of ancient Greece possessed, each of them, but a very small territory; and when the people in anyone of them multiplied beyond what that territory could easily maintain, a part of them were sent in quest of a new habitation, in some remote and distant part of the world; the warlike neighbours who surrounded them on all sides, rendering it difficult for any of them to enlarge very much its territory at home. The colonies of the Dorians resorted chiefly to Italy and Sicily, which, in the times preceding the foundation of Rome, were inhabited by barbarous and uncivilized nations; those of the Ionians and Aeolians, the two other great tribes of the Greeks, to Asia Minor and the islands of the Aegean sea, of which the inhabitants sewn at that time to have been pretty much in the same state as those of Sicily and Italy. The mother city, though she considered the colony as a child, at all times entitled to great favour and assistance, and owing in return much gratitude and respect, yet considered it as an emancipated child, over whom she pretended to claim no direct authority or jurisdiction. The colony settled its own form of government, enacted its own laws, elected its own magistrates, and made peace or war with its neighbours, as an independent state, which had no occasion to wait for the approbation or consent of the mother city. Nothing can be more plain and distinct than the interest which directed every such establishment.
Rome, like most of the other ancient republics, was originally founded upon an agrarian law, which divided the public territory, in a certain proportion, among the different citizens who composed the state. The course of human affairs, by marriage, by succession, and by alienation, necessarily deranged this original division, and frequently threw the lands which had been allotted for the maintenance of many different families, into the possession of a single person. To remedy this disorder, for such it was supposed to be, a law was made, restricting the quantity of land which any citizen could possess to five hundred jugera; about 350 English acres. This law, however, though we read of its having been executed upon one or two occasions, was either neglected or evaded, and the inequality of fortunes went on continually increasing. The greater part of the citizens had no land; and without it the manners and customs of those times rendered it difficult for a freeman to maintain his independency. In the present times, though a poor man has no land of his own, if he has a little stock, he may either farm the lands of another, or he may carry on some little retail trade; and if he has no stock, he may find employment either as a country labourer, or as an artificer. But among the ancient Romans, the lands of the rich were all cultivated by slaves, who wrought under an overseer, who was likewise a slave; so that a poor freeman had little chance of being employed either as a farmer or as a labourer. All trades and manufactures, too, even the retail trade, were carried on by the slaves of the rich for the benefit of their masters, whose wealth, authority, and protection, made it difficult for a poor freeman to maintain the competition against them. The citizens, therefore, who had no land, had scarce any other means of subsistence but the bounties of the candidates at the annual elections. The tribunes, when they had a mind to animate the people against the rich and the great, put them in mind of the ancient divisions of lands, and represented that law which restricted this sort of private property as the fundamental law of the republic. The people became clamorous to get land, and the rich and the great, we may believe, were perfectly determined not to give them any part of theirs. To satisfy them in some measure, therefore, they frequently proposed to send out a new colony. But conquering Rome was, even upon such occasions, under no necessity of turning out her citizens to seek their fortune, if one may so, through the wide world, without knowing where they were to settle. She assigned them lands generally in the conquered provinces of Italy, where, being within the dominions of the republic, they could never form any independent state, but were at best but a sort of corporation, which, though it had the power of enacting bye-laws for its own government, was at all times subject to the correction, jurisdiction, and legislative authority of the mother city. The sending out a colony of this kind not only gave some satisfaction to the people, but often established a sort of garrison, too, in a newly conquered province, of which the obedience might otherwise have been doubtful. A Roman colony, therefore, whether we consider the nature of the establishment itself, or the motives for making it, was altogether different from a Greek one. The words, accordingly, which in the original languages denote those different establishments, have very different meanings. The Latin word (colonia) signifies simply a plantation. The Greek word (apoixia), on the contrary, signifies a separation of dwelling, a departure from home, a going out of the house. But though the Roman colonies were, in many respects, different from the Greek ones, the interest which prompted to establish them was equally plain and distinct. Both institutions derived their origin, either from irresistible necessity, or from clear and evident utility.
The establishment of the European colonies in America and the West Indies arose from no necessity; and though the utility which has resulted from them has been very great, it is not altogether so clear and evident. It was not understood at their first establishment, and was not the motive, either of that establishment, or of the discoveries which gave occasion to it; and the nature, extent, and limits of that utility, are not, perhaps, well understood at this day.
The Venetians, during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, carried on a very advantageous commerce in spiceries and other East India goods, which they distributed among the other nations of Europe. They purchased them chiefly in Egypt, at that time under the dominion of the Mamelukes, the enemies of the Turks, of whom the Venetians were the enemies; and this union of interest, assisted by the money of Venice, formed such a connexion as gave the Venetians almost a monopoly of the trade.
The great profits of the Venetians tempted the avidity of the Portuguese. They had been endeavouring, during the course of the fifteenth century, to find out by sea a way to the countries from which the Moors brought them ivory and gold dust across the desert. They discovered the Madeiras, the Canaries, the Azores, the Cape de Verd islands, the coast of Guinea, that of Loango, Congo, Angola, and Benguela, and, finally, the Cape of Good Hope. They had long wished to share in the profitable traffic of the Venetians, and this last discovery opened to them a probable prospect of doing so. In 1497, Vasco de Gamo sailed from the port of Lisbon with a fleet of four ships, and, after a navigation of eleven months, arrived upon the coast of Indostan; and thus completed a course of discoveries which had been pursued with great steadiness, and with very little interruption, for near a century together.
Some years before this, while the expectations of Europe were in suspense about the projects of the Portuguese, of which the success appeared yet to be doubtful, a Genoese pilot formed the yet more daring project of sailing to the East Indies by the west. The situation of those countries was at that time very imperfectly known in Europe. The few European travellers who had been there, had magnified the distance, perhaps through simplicity and ignorance; what was really very great, appearing almost infinite to those who could not measure it; or, perhaps, in order to increase somewhat more the marvellous of their own adventures in visiting regions so immensely remote from Europe. The longer the way was by the east, Columbus very justly concluded, the shorter it would be by the west. He proposed, therefore, to take that way, as both the shortest and the surest, and he had the good fortune to convince Isabella of Castile of the probability of his project. He sailed from the port of Palos in August 1492, near five years before the expedition of Vasco de Gamo set out from Portugal; and, after a voyage of between two and three months, discovered first some of the small Bahama or Lucyan islands, and afterwards the great island of St. Domingo.
But the countries which Columbus discovered, either in this or in any of his subsequent voyages, had no resemblance to those which he had gone in quest of. Instead of the wealth, cultivation, and populousness of China and Indostan, he found, in St. Domingo, and in all the other parts of the new world which he ever visited, nothing but a country quite covered with wood, uncultivated, and inhabited only by some tribes of naked and miserable savages. He was not very willing, however, to believe that they were not the same with some of the countries described by Marco Polo, the first European who had visited, or at least had left behind him any description of China or the East Indies; and a very slight resemblance, such as that which he found between the name of Cibao, a mountain in St. Domingo, and that of Cipange, mentioned by Marco Polo, was frequently sufficient to make him return to this favourite prepossession, though contrary to the clearest evidence. In his letters to Ferdinand and Isabella, he called the countries which he had discovered the Indies. He entertained no doubt but that they were the extremity of those which had been described by Marco Polo, and that they were not very distant from the Ganges, or from the countries which had been conquered by Alexander. Even when at last convinced that they were different, he still flattered himself that those rich countries were at no great distance; and in a subsequent voyage, accordingly, went in quest of them along the coast of Terra Firma, and towards the Isthmus of Darien.
In consequence of this mistake of Columbus, the name of the Indies has stuck to those unfortunate countries ever since; and when it was at last clearly discovered that the new were altogether different from the old Indies, the former were called the West, in contradistinction to the latter, which were called the East Indies.
It was of importance to Columbus, however, that the countries which he had discovered, whatever they were, should be represented to the court of Spain as of very great consequence; and, in what constitutes the real riches of every country, the animal and vegetable productions of the soil, there was at that time nothing which could well justify such a representation of them.
The cori, something between a rat and a rabbit, and supposed by Mr Buffon to be the same with the aperea of Brazil, was the largest viviparous quadruped in St. Domingo. This species seems never to have been very numerous; and the dogs and cats of the Spaniards are said to have long ago almost entirely extirpated it, as well as some other tribes of a still smaller size. These, however, together with a pretty large lizard, called the ivana or iguana, constituted the principal part of the animal food which the land afforded.
The vegetable food of the inhabitants, though, from their want of industry, not very abundant, was not altogether so scanty. It consisted in Indian corn, yams, potatoes, bananas, etc., plants which were then altogether unknown in Europe, and which have never since been very much esteemed in it, or supposed to yield a sustenance equal to what is drawn from the common sorts of grain and pulse, which have been cultivated in this part of the world time out of mind.
The cotton plant, indeed, afforded the material of a very important manufacture, and was at that time, to Europeans, undoubtedly the most valuable of all the vegetable productions of those islands. But though, in the end of the fifteenth century, the muslins and other cotton goods of the East Indies were much esteemed in every part of Europe, the cotton manufacture itself was not cultivated in any part of it. Even this production, therefore, could not at that time appear in the eyes of Europeans to be of very great consequence.
Finding nothing, either in the animals or vegetables of the newly discovered countries which could justify a very advantageous representation of them, Columbus turned his view towards their minerals; and in the richness of their productions of this third kingdom, he flattered himself he had found a full compensation for the insignificancy of those of the other two. The little bits of gold with which the inhabitants ornamented their dress, and which, he was informed, they frequently found in the rivulets and torrents which fell from the mountains, were sufficient to satisfy him that those mountains abounded with the richest gold mines. St. Domingo, therefore, was represented as a country abounding with gold, and upon that account (according to the prejudices not only of the present times, but of those times), an inexhaustible source of real wealth to the crown and kingdom of Spain. When Columbus, upon his return from his first voyage, was introduced with a sort of triumphal honours to the sovereigns of Castile and Arragon, the principal productions of the countries which he had discovered were carried in solemn procession before him. The only valuable part of them consisted in some little fillets, bracelets, and other ornaments of gold, and in some bales of cotton. The rest were mere objects of vulgar wonder and curiosity; some reeds of an extraordinary size, some birds of a very beautiful plumage, and some stuffed skins of the huge alligator and manati; all of which were preceded by six or seven of the wretched natives, whose singular colour and appearance added greatly to the novelty of the show.
In consequence of the representations of Columbus, the council of Castile determined to take possession of the countries of which the inhabitants were plainly incapable of defending themselves. The pious purpose of converting them to Christianity sanctified the injustice of the project. But the hope of finding treasures of gold there was the sole motive which prompted to undertake it; and to give this motive the greater weight, it was proposed by Columbus, that the half of all the gold and silver that should be found there, should belong to the crown. This proposal was approved of by the council.
English
Of Colonies.
Part I. Of the Motives for Establishing New Colonies.
The interest behind the first settlements of the various European colonies in America and the West Indies was not nearly so clear as the interest that guided the founding of those of ancient Greece and Rome.
Each state of ancient Greece possessed only a small territory. When its population grew beyond what that territory could readily support, some of its people were sent to seek a new home in a distant part of the world, since warlike neighbors on every side made it difficult for a state to expand much at home. Dorian colonies went chiefly to Italy and Sicily, inhabited before the founding of Rome by nations considered barbarous and uncivilized. Those of the Ionians and Aeolians, the other two great Greek peoples, went to Asia Minor and the islands of the Aegean Sea, whose inhabitants seem then to have been in much the same condition as those of Sicily and Italy. The mother city regarded its colony as a child, entitled always to great favor and assistance and owing gratitude and respect in return; but it regarded that child as emancipated and claimed no direct power or jurisdiction over it. The colony established its own government, made its own laws, elected its own magistrates, and made peace or war with its neighbors as an independent state, without awaiting the mother city's consent or approval. The interest guiding every such settlement could hardly be clearer.
Rome, like most ancient republics, was originally founded on an agrarian law dividing public land in fixed proportions among its citizens. Marriage, inheritance, and transfer of property inevitably upset this original division, frequently bringing land intended to support many families into one person's hands. To remedy what was thought a disorder, a law limited each citizen's holdings to five hundred jugera, about 350 English acres. Though we read of the law being enforced once or twice, it was either neglected or evaded, and inequality of fortune kept growing. Most citizens owned no land, and under the customs of the day a freeman without land could hardly maintain his independence. Today a poor man who has no land but some stock may farm another's property or keep a small retail business; without stock he may find work as a country laborer or artisan. Among the ancient Romans, however, rich men's lands were worked entirely by slaves under overseers who were slaves themselves; a poor freeman had little hope of employment as either farmer or laborer. All trades and manufactures, even retail trade, were also carried on by the rich men's slaves for their masters' benefit. Their masters' wealth, authority, and protection made it difficult for a poor freeman to compete. Landless citizens therefore had scarcely any livelihood beyond the gifts of candidates at annual elections. When tribunes wanted to stir the people against the rich and powerful, they recalled the old distribution of land and portrayed the restriction on private holdings as the republic's fundamental law. The people clamored for land, while the rich and powerful, we may suppose, were fully resolved not to surrender any of theirs. They often proposed sending out a new colony to satisfy the people in some measure. But even then conquering Rome had no need to cast its citizens out to seek their fortunes, as it were, across the wide world with no idea where they would settle. She generally allotted them land in conquered Italian provinces. Within the republic's dominions, they could never form an independent state, but at best a kind of corporation with power to make its own bylaws, always subject to the mother city's correction, jurisdiction, and legislative authority. Sending such a colony out not only gave the people some satisfaction but often set up a kind of garrison in a newly conquered province whose obedience might otherwise be uncertain. A Roman colony was thus entirely different from a Greek one, whether in its form or in the motives for founding it. The original words for these establishments accordingly have quite different meanings: the Latin word (colonia) means simply a plantation; the Greek (apoixia), by contrast, a separation of dwellings, a departure from home, a going out of the house. Yet despite the many differences between Roman and Greek colonies, the interest prompting their establishment was equally plain: both institutions arose either from irresistible necessity or from clear, evident usefulness.
European colonies in America and the West Indies arose from no necessity. And although they have proved highly useful, the nature of that usefulness is not so clear. It was not understood when they were first founded, and it motivated neither their founding nor the discoveries that led to it; even today the nature, extent, and limits of their usefulness may not be well understood.
In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the Venetians conducted a highly profitable trade in spices and other East Indian goods, distributing them among the nations of Europe. They bought most of these goods in Egypt, then ruled by the Mamelukes, who were enemies of the Turks, as were the Venetians. This common interest, aided by Venetian money, established a connection that gave Venice nearly a monopoly of the trade.
Venetian profits aroused the Portuguese appetite. Throughout the fifteenth century, they had sought a sea route to the countries from which the Moors brought them ivory and gold dust across the desert. They discovered the Madeiras, the Canaries, the Azores, the Cape de Verd islands, the coasts of Guinea, Loango, Congo, Angola, and Benguela, and finally the Cape of Good Hope. They had long wanted a share in Venice's profitable trade, and the last discovery offered a promising prospect of it. In 1497, Vasco de Gamo sailed from Lisbon with four ships and, after eleven months at sea, reached the coast of Indostan. He thus completed a series of discoveries pursued steadily, with very little interruption, for nearly a century.
Some years earlier, while Europe waited to learn whether the Portuguese enterprise would succeed, a Genoese pilot conceived the still bolder plan of sailing west to the East Indies. Europeans then knew the position of those countries only imperfectly. The few European travelers who had visited them had exaggerated the distance, perhaps through innocent ignorance, since a distance genuinely very great seemed almost infinite to those unable to measure it; or perhaps to make their own adventures in such remote regions more marvelous. The longer the route to them by the east, Columbus quite reasonably concluded, the shorter the route by the west. He therefore proposed the western route as both shortest and safest, and succeeded in convincing Isabella of Castile that his plan was plausible. He sailed from Palos in August 1492, nearly five years before Vasco de Gamo's expedition left Portugal, and after between two and three months at sea discovered first some of the small Bahama or Lucyan islands and then the great island of St. Domingo.
The countries Columbus found on this and all his later voyages bore no resemblance to those he had sought. In place of the wealth, cultivation, and population of China and Indostan, in St. Domingo and every other part of the new world he visited he found a land wholly covered in woods, uncultivated and inhabited only by tribes of naked, impoverished people he considered savages. Still, he was reluctant to believe these lands were not among those described by Marco Polo, the first European to visit—or at least to leave an account of—China or the East Indies. The slightest similarity, such as that between Cibao, a mountain in St. Domingo, and Cipange, mentioned by Marco Polo, often drew him back to his favorite conviction in defiance of the clearest evidence. In letters to Ferdinand and Isabella, he called the lands he found the Indies. He had no doubt that they lay at the edge of Marco Polo's countries, not far from the Ganges or the lands conquered by Alexander. Even when at last persuaded they were different, he still hoped the wealthy lands lay close by, and on a subsequent voyage sought them along the coast of Terra Firma toward the Isthmus of Darien.
Because of Columbus's mistake, the name Indies has clung to those unfortunate countries ever since. Once it became clear that the new lands were entirely distinct from the old Indies, they were called the West Indies to distinguish them from the East Indies.
For Columbus, however, it mattered that whatever lands he had found should appear to the Spanish court immensely important. Yet in the animal and vegetable products of the soil—the real wealth of every country—there was then little to justify such a description.
The cori, an animal something between a rat and a rabbit, which Mr Buffon thought the same as the Brazilian aperea, was the largest live-bearing quadruped in St. Domingo. The species never seems to have been numerous; Spanish dogs and cats are said long ago to have almost exterminated it and several smaller species besides. These animals, together with a fairly large lizard called the ivana or iguana, made up most of the animal food the land supplied.
The inhabitants' plant foods, though not abundant because of their want of industry, were not quite so scarce. They included Indian corn, yams, potatoes, bananas, etc.—plants then entirely unknown in Europe, where they have never since been held in high esteem or thought to provide nourishment equal to the common grains and pulses cultivated there since time immemorial.
The cotton plant did supply the material for an important manufacture and was undoubtedly then the most valuable of these islands' plants to Europeans. But although East Indian muslins and other cotton goods were highly prized throughout Europe at the end of the fifteenth century, cotton manufacturing itself was practiced nowhere in Europe. Even this product, therefore, could not then have seemed very important to Europeans.
Finding nothing in the animals or plants of these newly discovered lands to support a glowing account, Columbus turned to minerals, hoping that the riches of this third kingdom would fully compensate for the insignificance of the other two. The little pieces of gold the inhabitants wore as ornaments, which he learned were often found in streams and torrents flowing down the mountains, convinced him the mountains held immensely rich gold mines. He therefore described St. Domingo as abounding in gold and, on that account—in keeping with the prejudices of his time as well as ours—as an inexhaustible source of real wealth for the crown and kingdom of Spain. When Columbus returned from his first voyage and was presented with a kind of triumphal honor to the sovereigns of Castile and Arragon, the principal products of the lands he had discovered were carried before him in solemn procession. The only valuable things were a few narrow bands, bracelets, and other gold ornaments, and some bales of cotton. The rest were mere objects of popular wonder and curiosity: exceptionally large reeds, birds with beautiful plumage, and stuffed skins of the huge alligator and manati. Ahead of them all walked six or seven of the unfortunate natives, whose unfamiliar color and appearance added greatly to the spectacle's novelty.
On the strength of Columbus's accounts, the council of Castile resolved to take possession of lands whose inhabitants were plainly unable to defend themselves. The pious purpose of converting them to Christianity sanctified the injustice of the scheme. Its only real motive, however, was the hope of finding stores of gold; and to strengthen that motive Columbus proposed that half of all the gold and silver discovered there should belong to the crown. The council approved his proposal.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 2
18th-century English
As long as the whole, or the greater part of the gold which the first adventurers imported into Europe was got by so very easy a method as the plundering of the defenceless natives, it was not perhaps very difficult to pay even this heavy tax; but when the natives were once fairly stript of all that they had, which, in St. Domingo, and in all the other countries discovered by Columbus, was done completely in six or eight years, and when, in order to find more, it had become necessary to dig for it in the mines, there was no longer any possibility of paying this tax. The rigorous exaction of it, accordingly, first occasioned, it is said, the total abandoning of the mines of St. Domingo, which have never been wrought since. It was soon reduced, therefore, to a third; then to a fifth; afterwards to a tenth; and at last to a twentieth part of the gross produce of the gold mines. The tax upon silver continued for a long time to be a fifth of the gross produce. It was reduced to a tenth only in the course of the present century. But the first adventurers do not appear to have been much interested about silver. Nothing less precious than gold seemed worthy of their attention.
All the other enterprizes of the Spaniards in the New World, subsequent to those of Columbus, seem to have been prompted by the same motive. It was the sacred thirst of gold that carried Ovieda, Nicuessa, and Vasco Nugnes de Balboa, to the Isthmus of Darien; that carried Cortes to Mexico, Almagro and Pizarro to Chili and Peru. When those adventurers arrived upon any unknown coast, their first inquiry was always if there was any gold to be found there; and according to the information which they received concerning this particular, they determined either to quit the country or to settle in it.
Of all those expensive and uncertain projects, however, which bring bankruptcy upon the greater part of the people who engage in them, there is none, perhaps, more perfectly ruinous than the search after new silver and gold mines. It is, perhaps, the most disadvantageous lottery in the world, or the one in which the gain of those who draw the prizes bears the least proportion to the loss of those who draw the blanks; for though the prizes are few, and the blanks many, the common price of a ticket is the whole fortune of a very rich man. Projects of mining, instead of replacing the capital employed in them, together with the ordinary profits of stock, commonly absorb both capital and profit. They are the projects, therefore, to which, of all others, a prudent lawgiver, who desired to increase the capital of his nation, would least choose to give any extraordinary encouragement, or to turn towards them a greater share of that capital than what would go to them of its own accord. Such, in reality, is the absurd confidence which almost all men have in their own good fortune, that wherever there is the least probability of success, too great a share of it is apt to go to them of its own accord.
But though the judgment of sober reason and experience concerning such projects has always been extremely unfavourable, that of human avidity has commonly been quite otherwise. The same passion which has suggested to so many people the absurd idea of the philosopher’s stone, has suggested to others the equally absurd one of immense rich mines of gold and silver. They did not consider that the value of those metals has, in all ages and nations, arisen chiefly from their scarcity, and that their scarcity has arisen from the very small quantities of them which nature has anywhere deposited in one place, from the hard and intractable substances with which she has almost everywhere surrounded those small quantities, and consequently from the labour and expense which are everywhere necessary in order to penetrate, and get at them. They flattered themselves that veins of those metals might in many places be found, as large and as abundant as those which are commonly found of lead, or copper, or tin, or iron. The dream of Sir Waiter Raleigh, concerning the golden city and country of El Dorado, may satisfy us, that even wise men are not always exempt from such strange delusions. More than a hundred years after the death of that great man, the Jesuit Gumila was still convinced of the reality of that wonderful country, and expressed, with great warmth, and, I dare say, with great sincerity, how happy he should be to carry the light of the gospel to a people who could so well reward the pious labours of their missionary.
In the countries first discovered by the Spaniards, no gold and silver mines are at present known which are supposed to be worth the working. The quantities of those metals which the first adventurers are said to have found there, had probably been very much magnified, as well as the fertility of the mines which were wrought immediately after the first discovery. What those adventurers were reported to have found, however, was sufficient to inflame the avidity of all their countrymen. Every Spaniard who sailed to America expected to find an El Dorado. Fortune, too, did upon this what she has done upon very few other occasions. She realized in some measure the extravagant hopes of her votaries; and in the discovery and conquest of Mexico and Peru (of which the one happened about thirty, and the other about forty, years after the first expedition of Columbus), she presented them with something not very unlike that profusion of the precious metals which they sought for.
A project of commerce to the East Indies, therefore, gave occasion to the first discovery of the West. A project of conquest gave occasion to all the establishments of the Spaniards in those newly discovered countries. The motive which excited them to this conquest was a project of gold and silver mines; and a course of accidents which no human wisdom could foresee, rendered this project much more successful than the undertakers had any reasonable grounds for expecting.
The first adventurers of all the other nations of Europe who attempted to make settlements in America, were animated by the like chimerical views; but they were not equally successful. It was more than a hundred years after the first settlement of the Brazils, before any silver, gold, or diamond mines, were discovered there. In the English, French, Dutch, and Danish colonies, none have ever yet been discovered, at least none that are at present supposed to be worth the working. The first English settlers in North America, however, offered a fifth of all the gold and silver which should be found there to the king, as a motive for granting them their patents. In the patents of Sir Waiter Raleigh, to the London and Plymouth companies, to the council of Plymouth, etc. this fifth was accordingly reserved to the crown. To the expectation of finding gold and silver mines, those first settlers, too, joined that of discovering a north-west passage to the East Indies. They have hitherto been disappointed in both.
PART II. Causes of the Prosperity of New Colonies.
The colony of a civilized nation which takes possession either of a waste country, or of one so thinly inhabited that the natives easily give place to the new settlers, advances more rapidly to wealth and greatness than any other human society.
The colonies carry out with them a knowledge of agriculture and of other useful arts, superior to what can grow up of its own accord, in the course of many centuries, among savage and barbarous nations. They carry out with them, too, the habit of subordination, some notion of the regular government which takes place in their own country, of the system of laws which support it, and of a regular administration of justice; and they naturally establish something of the same kind in the new settlement. But among savage and barbarous nations, the natural progress of law and government is still slower than the natural progress of arts, after law and government have been so far established as is necessary for their protection. Every colonist gets more land than he can possibly cultivate. He has no rent, and scarce any taxes, to pay. No landlord shares with him in its produce, and, the share of the sovereign is commonly but a trifle. He has every motive to render as great as possible a produce which is thus to be almost entirely his own. But his land is commonly so extensive, that, with all his own industry, and with all the industry of other people whom he can get to employ, he can seldom make it produce the tenth part of what it is capable of producing. He is eager, therefore, to collect labourers from all quarters, and to reward them with the most liberal wages. But those liberal wages, joined to the plenty and cheapness of land, soon make those labourers leave him, in order to become landlords themselves, and to reward with equal liberality other labourers, who soon leave them for the same reason that they left their first master. The liberal reward of labour encourages marriage. The children, during the tender years of infancy, are well fed and properly taken care of; and when they are grown up, the value of their labour greatly overpays their maintenance. When arrived at maturity, the high price of labour, and the low price of land, enable them to establish themselves in the same manner as their fathers did before them.
In other countries, rent and profit eat up wages, and the two superior orders of people oppress the inferior one; but in new colonies, the interest of the two superior orders obliges them to treat the inferior one with more generosity and humanity, at least where that inferior one is not in a state of slavery. Waste lands, of the greatest natural fertility, are to be had for a trifle. The increase of revenue which the proprietor, who is always the undertaker, expects from their improvement, constitutes his profit, which, in these circumstances, is commonly very great; but this great profit cannot be made, without employing the labour of other people in clearing and cultivating the land; and the disproportion between the great extent of the land and the small number of the people, which commonly takes place in new colonies, makes it difficult for him to get this labour. He does not, therefore, dispute about wages, but is willing to employ labour at any price. The high wages of labour encourage population. The cheapness and plenty of good land encourage improvement, and enable the proprietor to pay those high wages. In those wages consists almost the whole price of the land; and though they are high, considered as the wages of labour, they are low, considered as the price of what is so very valuable. What encourages the progress of population and improvement, encourages that of real wealth and greatness.
The progress of many of the ancient Greek colonies towards wealth and greatness seems accordingly to have been very rapid. In the course of a century or two, several of them appear to have rivalled, and even to have surpassed, their mother cities. Syracuse and Agrigentum in Sicily, Tarentum and Locri in Italy, Ephesus and Miletus in Lesser Asia, appear, by all accounts, to have been at least equal to any of the cities of ancient Greece. Though posterior in their establishment, yet all the arts of refinement, philosophy, poetry, and eloquence, seem to have been cultivated as early, and to have been improved as highly in them as in any part of the mother country. The schools of the two oldest Greek philosophers, those of Thales and Pythagoras, were established, it is remarkable, not in ancient Greece, but the one in an Asiatic, the other in an Italian colony. All those colonies had established themselves in countries inhabited by savage and barbarous nations, who easily gave place to the new settlers. They had plenty of good land; and as they were altogether independent of the mother city, they were at liberty to manage their own affairs in the way that they judged was most suitable to their own interest.
The history of the Roman colonies is by no means so brilliant. Some of them, indeed, such as Florence, have, in the course of many ages, and after the fall of the mother city, grown up to be considerable states. But the progress of no one of them seems ever to have been very rapid. They were all established in conquered provinces, which in most cases had been fully inhabited before. The quantity of land assigned to each colonist was seldom very considerable, and, as the colony was not independent, they were not always at liberty to manage their own affairs in the way that they judged was most suitable to their own interest.
In the plenty of good land, the European colonies established in America and the West Indies resemble, and even greatly surpass, those of ancient Greece. In their dependency upon the mother state, they resemble those of ancient Rome; but their great distance from Europe has in all of them alleviated more or less the effects of this dependency. Their situation has placed them less in the view, and less in the power of their mother country. In pursuing their interest their own way, their conduct has upon many occasions been overlooked, either because not known or not understood in Europe; and upon some occasions it has been fairly suffered and submitted to, because their distance rendered it difficult to restrain it. Even the violent and arbitrary government of Spain has, upon many occasions, been obliged to recall or soften the orders which had been given for the government of her colonies, for fear of a general insurrection. The progress of all the European colonies in wealth, population, and improvement, has accordingly been very great.
English
So long as all, or most, of the gold brought to Europe by the first adventurers was obtained by the easy means of robbing defenseless natives, even this heavy tax may not have been very hard to pay. Once the natives had been stripped of everything they possessed—as happened completely in St. Domingo and the other countries Columbus discovered within six or eight years—and finding more gold required digging in mines, it became impossible to pay. Strict enforcement of the tax is said to have caused the complete abandonment of the mines of St. Domingo, which have never been worked since. It was soon lowered to a third, then a fifth, afterward a tenth, and finally a twentieth of the gross output of the gold mines. The tax on silver long remained a fifth of gross output and was reduced to a tenth only in the present century. The first adventurers, however, seem to have had little interest in silver. Nothing less precious than gold seemed worth their attention.
The same motive appears to have driven all the Spaniards' other ventures in the New World after Columbus. A sacred thirst for gold carried Ovieda, Nicuessa, and Vasco Nugnes de Balboa to the Isthmus of Darien; Cortes to Mexico; and Almagro and Pizarro to Chili and Peru. When these adventurers reached an unknown coast, their first question was always whether gold could be found there. What they heard on this point determined whether they stayed or left.
Of all the costly and uncertain ventures that bankrupt most of those who undertake them, perhaps none is so thoroughly ruinous as the search for new silver and gold mines. It may be the world's worst lottery, the one where the winnings of those drawing prizes are smallest in proportion to the losses of those drawing blanks. Though the prizes are few and the blanks many, the usual ticket price is the entire fortune of a very rich man. Mining ventures, rather than restoring the capital invested together with the ordinary profits of stock, commonly swallow both capital and profit. Of all enterprises, then, these are the ones a prudent lawgiver seeking to increase the nation's capital would be least inclined to encourage specially or to direct toward them any more of that capital than would flow there on its own. Indeed, nearly everyone has such absurd faith in personal good fortune that wherever success is even faintly possible, too much capital is likely to flow there without encouragement.
Yet while sober reason and experience have always judged these projects most unfavorably, human greed has usually judged them otherwise. The passion that inspired so many people with the absurd notion of a philosopher's stone inspired others with the equally absurd notion of immensely rich gold and silver mines. They overlooked the fact that these metals have been valuable in every age and country chiefly because they are scarce. Their scarcity arises from the tiny quantities nature has deposited in any one place, from the hard, resistant materials she has almost everywhere packed around those quantities, and therefore from the labor and expense everywhere required to reach them. They imagined veins of precious metal could be found in many places as large and plentiful as veins of lead, copper, tin, or iron. Sir Waiter Raleigh's dream of the golden city and country of El Dorado shows that even wise men are not always immune to such extraordinary delusions. More than a hundred years after his death, the Jesuit Gumila still believed in that marvelous country. With great warmth and, I dare say, great sincerity, he declared how happy he would be to bring the light of the gospel to a people so well able to reward their missionary's pious labors.
In the countries first discovered by the Spaniards, no gold or silver mines are now known that are thought worth working. Reports of the quantities of these metals found by the first adventurers were probably greatly exaggerated, as was the fertility of the mines worked immediately after the discovery. What the adventurers were said to have found, however, was enough to inflame the appetite of all their countrymen. Every Spaniard who sailed to America expected to discover an El Dorado. And Fortune did something she has done on very few other occasions: she fulfilled her devotees' extravagant hopes to some degree. With the discovery and conquest of Mexico and Peru—the first about thirty years, the second about forty years, after Columbus's first expedition—she gave them something not unlike the abundance of precious metals they sought.
A plan for trade with the East Indies thus led to the first discovery of the West. A plan of conquest led to all the Spanish settlements in the newly discovered lands. What spurred the conquest was a scheme for finding gold and silver mines; and a succession of accidents beyond the foresight of human wisdom made that scheme far more successful than its promoters had any reasonable grounds to expect.
The first adventurers from all the other European nations attempting to settle in America were inspired by similar fantasies, but were less successful. More than a hundred years passed after the first settlement of the Brazils before mines of silver, gold, or diamonds were discovered there. None have yet been found in the English, French, Dutch, or Danish colonies—or at least none now thought worth working. The first English settlers in North America nevertheless offered the king a fifth of all gold and silver discovered there to induce him to grant their patents. Accordingly, the patents of Sir Waiter Raleigh, of the London and Plymouth companies, of the council of Plymouth, etc. reserved this fifth for the crown. Alongside their hopes of finding gold and silver mines, these first settlers hoped to discover a north-west passage to the East Indies. So far, both hopes have been disappointed.
Part II. Causes of the Prosperity of New Colonies.
When the colony of a civilized nation takes possession of unoccupied land, or of land so thinly inhabited that the natives easily give way to the newcomers, it grows rich and powerful faster than any other human society.
The colonists bring knowledge of agriculture and other useful arts superior to anything that could arise spontaneously over many centuries among peoples they regard as savage and barbarous. They bring, too, the habit of accepting authority, some idea of the orderly government of their homeland, of the legal system supporting it, and of a regular administration of justice; naturally they establish something similar in their new settlement. Among peoples considered savage and barbarous, however, laws and government develop naturally even more slowly than useful arts develop once laws and government have been established far enough to protect them. Every colonist acquires more land than he can possibly cultivate. He pays no rent and hardly any taxes. No landlord claims a share of its produce, and the sovereign's share is ordinarily trifling. He has every reason to make the harvest, almost entirely his own, as great as possible. But his land is usually so extensive that even with all his own efforts and all the help he can employ, he can seldom make it yield a tenth of its potential. He therefore eagerly seeks laborers everywhere and offers the most generous wages. Yet those wages, together with plentiful, cheap land, soon lead the laborers to leave him and become landowners themselves, offering equally generous wages to other laborers, who soon leave in their turn for the same reason. Generous pay encourages marriage. Children are well fed and properly cared for in infancy; when they grow up, their labor is worth much more than their upkeep. As adults, high wages and low land prices enable them to establish themselves just as their fathers did.
Elsewhere, rent and profit consume wages and the two upper orders oppress the lower. In new colonies, however, the interests of the upper orders compel them to treat the lower more generously and humanely, at least where that lower order is not enslaved. Fertile, unoccupied land can be obtained for next to nothing. The additional revenue the owner, who is always the entrepreneur, expects from improving it is his profit, ordinarily very large in these circumstances. But he cannot obtain that profit without employing others to clear and cultivate the land. The vast amount of land relative to the small population typical of new colonies makes such workers hard to find. He does not haggle over wages but is willing to employ labor at any price. High wages encourage population growth. Cheap and plentiful good land encourages improvement and enables the owner to pay those high wages. Nearly the entire price of the land consists of those wages; high as wages for labor, they are low as the price of something so valuable. What promotes population growth and improvement also promotes real wealth and power.
Accordingly, many ancient Greek colonies seem to have grown rich and powerful very quickly. Within a century or two, several appear to have rivaled or even surpassed their mother cities. Syracuse and Agrigentum in Sicily, Tarentum and Locri in Italy, and Ephesus and Miletus in Lesser Asia were, by all accounts, at least equal to any cities in ancient Greece. Though founded later, they seem to have developed all the refined arts, philosophy, poetry, and eloquence, as early and to as high a degree as anywhere in the mother country. Remarkably, the schools of the two oldest Greek philosophers, Thales and Pythagoras, were founded not in ancient Greece but one in an Asiatic colony and the other in an Italian one. All these colonies were established in lands inhabited by peoples they considered savage and barbarous, who easily gave way to the new settlers. Good land was abundant, and complete independence from the mother city left them free to manage their affairs as they thought best served their interests.
The history of the Roman colonies is far less brilliant. Some, such as Florence, eventually became considerable states, but only after many ages and the fall of the mother city. None appears ever to have advanced very quickly. All were founded in conquered provinces, usually already fully populated. Each colonist was seldom allotted much land; and since the colony was not independent, its people could not always manage their affairs in the way they judged best for themselves.
In their abundance of good land, the European colonies founded in America and the West Indies resemble, and far surpass, those of ancient Greece. In their dependence on a mother state, they resemble those of ancient Rome. But their great distance from Europe has lessened the effects of that dependence to some extent in every case. They have been less visible to their mother countries and less subject to their power. As the colonists pursued their interests in their own way, their conduct was often overlooked because it was unknown or misunderstood in Europe. Sometimes it was openly tolerated and accepted because the distance made restraint difficult. Even Spain's violent and arbitrary government has often had to withdraw or soften orders concerning its colonies for fear of a general uprising. Accordingly, all the European colonies have made great progress in wealth, population, and improvement.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 3
18th-century English
The crown of Spain, by its share of the gold and silver, derived some revenue from its colonies from the moment of their first establishment. It was a revenue, too, of a nature to excite in human avidity the most extravagant expectation of still greater riches. The Spanish colonies, therefore, from the moment of their first establishment, attracted very much the attention of their mother country; while those of the other European nations were for a long time in a great measure neglected. The former did not, perhaps, thrive the better in consequence of this attention, nor the latter the worse in consequence of this neglect. In proportion to the extent of the country which they in some measure possess, the Spanish colonies are considered as less populous and thriving than those of almost any other European nation. The progress even of the Spanish colonies, however, in population and improvement, has certainly been very rapid and very great. The city of Lima, founded since the conquest, is represented by Ulloa as containing fifty thousand inhabitants near thirty years ago. Quito, which had been but a miserable hamlet of Indians, is represented by the same author as in his time equally populous. Gemel i Carreri, a pretended traveller, it is said, indeed, but who seems everywhere to have written upon extreme good information, represents the city of Mexico as containing a hundred thousand inhabitants; a number which, in spite of all the exaggerations of the Spanish writers, is probably more than five times greater than what it contained in the time of Montezuma. These numbers exceed greatly those of Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, the three greatest cities of the English colonies. Before the conquest of the Spaniards, there were no cattle fit for draught, either in Mexico or Peru. The lama was their only beast of burden, and its strength seems to have been a good deal inferior to that of a common ass. The plough was unknown among them. They were ignorant of the use of iron. They had no coined money, nor any established instrument of commerce of any kind. Their commerce was carried on by barter. A sort of wooden spade was their principal instrument of agriculture. Sharp stones served them for knives and hatchets to cut with; fish bones, and the hard sinews of certain animals, served them with needles to sew with; and these seem to have been their principal instruments of trade. In this state of things, it seems impossible that either of those empires could have been so much improved or so well cultivated as at present, when they are plentifully furnished with all sorts of European cattle, and when the use of iron, of the plough, and of many of the arts of Europe, have been introduced among them. But the populousness of every country must be in proportion to the degree of its improvement and cultivation. In spite of the cruel destruction of the natives which followed the conquest, these two great empires are probably more populous now than they ever were before; and the people are surely very different; for we must acknowledge, I apprehend, that the Spanish creoles are in many respects superior to the ancient Indians.
After the settlements of the Spaniards, that of the Portuguese in Brazil is the oldest of any European nation in America. But as for a long time after the first discovery neither gold nor silver mines were found in it, and as it afforded upon that account little or no revenue to the crown, it was for a long time in a great measure neglected; and during this state of neglect, it grew up to be a great and powerful colony. While Portugal was under the dominion of Spain, Brazil was attacked by the Dutch, who got possession of seven of the fourteen provinces into which it is divided. They expected soon to conquer the other seven, when Portugal recovered its independency by the elevation of the family of Braganza to the throne. The Dutch, then, as enemies to the Spaniards, became friends to the Portuguese, who were likewise the enemies of the Spaniards. They agreed, therefore, to leave that part of Brazil which they had not conquered to the king of Portugal, who agreed to leave that part which they had conquered to them, as a matter not worth disputing about, with such good allies. But the Dutch government soon began to oppress the Portuguese colonists, who, instead of amusing themselves with complaints, took arms against their new masters, and by their own valour and resolution, with the connivance, indeed, but without any avowed assistance from the mother country, drove them out of Brazil. The Dutch, therefore, finding it impossible to keep any part of the country to themselves, were contented that it should be entirely restored to the crown of Portugal. In this colony there are said to be more than six hundred thousand people, either Portuguese or descended from Portuguese, creoles, mulattoes, and a mixed race between Portuguese and Brazilians. No one colony in America is supposed to contain so great a number of people of European extraction.
Towards the end of the fifteenth, and during the greater part of the sixteenth century, Spain and Portugal were the two great naval powers upon the ocean; for though the commerce of Venice extended to every part of Europe, its fleet had scarce ever sailed beyond the Mediterranean. The Spaniards, in virtue of the first discovery, claimed all America as their own; and though they could not hinder so great a naval power as that of Portugal from settling in Brazil, such was at that time the terror of their name, that the greater part of the other nations of Europe were afraid to establish themselves in any other part of that great continent. The French, who attempted to settle in Florida, were all murdered by the Spaniards. But the declension of the naval power of this latter nation, in consequence of the defeat or miscarriage of what they called their invincible armada, which happened towards the end of the sixteenth century, put it out of their power to obstruct any longer the settlements of the other European nations. In the course of the seventeenth century, therefore, the English, French, Dutch, Danes, and Swedes, all the great nations who had any ports upon the ocean, attempted to make some settlements in the new world.
The Swedes established themselves in New Jersey; and the number of Swedish families still to be found there sufficiently demonstrates, that this colony was very likely to prosper, had it been protected by the mother country. But being neglected by Sweden, it was soon swallowed up by the Dutch colony of New York, which again, in 1674, fell under the dominion of the English.
The small islands of St. Thomas and Santa Cruz, are the only countries in the new world that have ever been possessed by the Danes. These little settlements, too, were under the government of an exclusive company, which had the sole right, both of purchasing the surplus produce of the colonies, and of supplying them with such goods of other countries as they wanted, and which, therefore, both in its purchases and sales, had not only the power of oppressing them, but the greatest temptation to do so. The government of an exclusive company of merchants is, perhaps, the worst of all governments for any country whatever. It was not, however, able to stop altogether the progress of these colonies, though it rendered it more slow and languid. The late king of Denmark dissolved this company, and since that time the prosperity of these colonies has been very great.
The Dutch settlements in the West, as well as those in the East Indies, were originally put under the government of an exclusive company. The progress of some of them, therefore, though it has been considerable in comparison with that of almost any country that has been long peopled and established, has been languid and slow in comparison with that of the greater part of new colonies. The colony of Surinam, though very considerable, is still inferior to the greater part of the sugar colonies of the other European nations. The colony of Nova Belgia, now divided into the two provinces of New York and New Jersey, would probably have soon become considerable too, even though it had remained under the government of the Dutch. The plenty and cheapness of good land are such powerful causes of prosperity, that the very worst government is scarce capable of checking altogether the efficacy of their operation. The great distance, too, from the mother country, would enable the colonists to evade more or less, by smuggling, the monopoly which the company enjoyed against them. At present, the company allows all Dutch ships to trade to Surinam, upon paying two and a-half per cent. upon the value of their cargo for a license; and only reserves to itself exclusively, the direct trade from Africa to America, which consists almost entirely in the slave trade. This relaxation in the exclusive privileges of the company, is probably the principal cause of that degree of prosperity which that colony at present enjoys. Curacoa and Eustatia, the two principal islands belonging to the Dutch, are free ports, open to the ships of all nations; and this freedom, in the midst of better colonies, whose ports are open to those of one nation only, has been the great cause of the prosperity of those two barren islands.
The French colony of Canada was, during the greater part of the last century, and some part of the present, under the government of an exclusive company. Under so unfavourable an administration, its progress was necessarily very slow, in comparison with that of other new colonies; but it became much more rapid when this company was dissolved, after the fall of what is called the Mississippi scheme. When the English got possession of this country, they found in it near double the number of inhabitants which father Charlevoix had assigned to it between twenty and thirty years before. That jesuit had travelled over the whole country, and had no inclination to represent it as less inconsiderable than it really was.
The French colony of St. Domingo was established by pirates and freebooters, who, for a long time, neither required the protection, nor acknowledged the authority of France; and when that race of banditti became so far citizens as to acknowledge this authority, it was for a long time necessary to exercise it with very great gentleness. During this period, the population and improvement of this colony increased very fast. Even the oppression of the exclusive company, to which it was for some time subjected with all the other colonies of France, though it no doubt retarded, had not been able to stop its progress altogether. The course of its prosperity returned as soon as it was relieved from that oppression. It is now the most important of the sugar colonies of the West Indies, and its produce is said to be greater than that of all the English sugar colonies put together. The other sugar colonies of France are in general all very thriving.
But there are no colonies of which the progress has been more rapid than that of the English in North America.
Plenty of good land, and liberty to manage their own affairs their own way, seem to be the two great causes of the prosperity of all new colonies.
In the plenty of good land, the English colonies of North America, though no doubt very abundantly provided, are, however, inferior to those of the Spaniards and Portuguese, and not superior to some of those possessed by the French before the late war. But the political institutions of the English colonies have been more favourable to the improvement and cultivation of this land, than those of the other three nations.
First, The engrossing of uncultivated land, though it has by no means been prevented altogether, has been more restrained in the English colonies than in any other. The colony law, which imposes upon every proprietor the obligation of improving and cultivating, within a limited time, a certain proportion of his lands, and which, in case of failure, declares those neglected lands grantable to any other person; though it has not perhaps been very strictly executed, has, however, had some effect.
Secondly, In Pennsylvania there is no right of primogeniture, and lands, like moveables, are divided equally among all the children of the family. In three of the provinces of New England, the oldest has only a double share, as in the Mosaical law. Though in those provinces, therefore, too great a quantity of land should sometimes be engrossed by a particular individual, it is likely, in the course of a generation or two, to be sufficiently divided again. In the other English colonies, indeed, the right of primogeniture takes place, as in the law of England: But in all the English colonies, the tenure of the lands, which are all held by free soccage, facilitates alienation; and the grantee of an extensive tract of land generally finds it for his interest to alienate, as fast as he can, the greater part of it, reserving only a small quit-rent. In the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, what is called the right of majorazzo takes place in the succession of all those great estates to which any title of honour is annexed. Such estates go all to one person, and are in effect entailed and unalienable. The French colonies, indeed, are subject to the custom of Paris, which, in the inheritance of land, is much more favourable to the younger children than the law of England. But, in the French colonies, if any part of an estate, held by the noble tenure of chivalry and homage, is alienated, it is, for a limited time, subject to the right of redemption, either by the heir of the superior, or by the heir of the family; and all the largest estates of the country are held by such noble tenures, which necessarily embarrass alienation. But, in a new colony, a great uncultivated estate is likely to be much more speedily divided by alienation than by succession. The plenty and cheapness of good land, it has already been observed, are the principal causes of the rapid prosperity of new colonies. The engrossing of land, in effect, destroys this plenty and cheapness. The engrossing of uncultivated land, besides, is the greatest obstruction to its improvement; but the labour that is employed in the improvement and cultivation of land affords the greatest and most valuable produce to the society. The produce of labour, in this case, pays not only its own wages and the profit of the stock which employs it, but the rent of the land too upon which it is employed. The labour of the English colonies, therefore, being more employed in the improvement and cultivation of land, is likely to afford a greater and more valuable produce than that of any of the other three nations, which, by the engrossing of land, is more or less diverted towards other employments.
English
The Spanish crown received some revenue from its colonies, through its share of their gold and silver, from the moment they were founded. Moreover, this was a kind of revenue likely to stir human greed to the most extravagant hopes of still greater wealth. From their first establishment, therefore, the Spanish colonies drew much attention from their mother country, while those of other European nations were long left largely neglected. The former perhaps prospered no more for this attention, nor the latter any less for the neglect. In relation to the extent of the country they occupy to some degree, the Spanish colonies are regarded as less populous and prosperous than those of almost any other European nation. Yet even their growth in population and improvement has certainly been both rapid and great. Ulloa describes Lima, founded since the conquest, as having fifty thousand inhabitants nearly thirty years ago. He describes Quito, once only a wretched Indian hamlet, as equally populous in his own time. Gemel i Carreri—allegedly a pretended traveler, though he appears everywhere to have written from remarkably good information—describes the city of Mexico as having a hundred thousand inhabitants. Despite all the exaggerations of Spanish writers, that is probably more than five times its population under Montezuma. These figures greatly exceed the populations of Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, the three largest cities in the English colonies. Before the Spanish conquest, neither Mexico nor Peru had cattle suited to drawing loads. The lama was their only beast of burden, and its strength appears to have been considerably less than a common ass's. They did not know the plow or the use of iron. They had neither coined money nor any established medium of commerce; their trade was conducted by barter. A kind of wooden spade was their chief agricultural tool. Sharp stones served as knives and hatchets for cutting; fish bones and the tough sinews of certain animals served as sewing needles. These appear to have been their chief implements of work. In such circumstances, it seems impossible that either empire was as improved or as well cultivated as it is now, when both have ample supplies of every kind of European cattle and have acquired the use of iron, the plow, and many European arts. A country's population, however, must be proportionate to its degree of improvement and cultivation. Despite the cruel destruction of native peoples following the conquest, these two great empires are probably more populous now than ever before. The people, to be sure, are very different; for I think we must acknowledge that the Spanish creoles are in many respects superior to the ancient Indians.
After the Spanish settlements, the Portuguese settlement in Brazil is the oldest made by any European nation in America. But for a long time after its discovery no gold or silver mines were found there, and consequently it yielded the crown little or no revenue. It was therefore largely neglected for many years; during that neglect it grew into a great and powerful colony. While Portugal was under Spanish dominion, the Dutch attacked Brazil and took seven of its fourteen provinces. They expected soon to conquer the other seven, when Portugal regained its independence through the elevation of the house of Braganza to the throne. The Dutch, being enemies of Spain, then became friends of the Portuguese, who were also Spain's enemies. They accordingly agreed to leave the unconquered part of Brazil to the king of Portugal; he agreed to leave their conquests to them, as a matter not worth disputing with such good allies. But the Dutch government soon began oppressing the Portuguese colonists. Instead of contenting themselves with complaints, the colonists took up arms against their new masters and, by their own courage and determination—with the mother country's tacit consent, indeed, but without its open help—drove them out of Brazil. Finding they could retain no part of the country, the Dutch accepted its complete restoration to the Portuguese crown. This colony is said to contain more than six hundred thousand people: Portuguese, people of Portuguese descent, creoles, mulattoes, and people of mixed Portuguese and Brazilian ancestry. No single colony in America is thought to contain so many people of European descent.
Toward the end of the fifteenth century and through most of the sixteenth, Spain and Portugal were the two great oceanic naval powers. Venice traded throughout Europe, but its fleet had scarcely sailed beyond the Mediterranean. By virtue of their first discovery the Spaniards claimed all America as their own. They could not prevent a naval power as great as Portugal from settling in Brazil, but their name then inspired such fear that most other European nations hesitated to settle anywhere else on that vast continent. The Spaniards murdered all the French who tried to settle in Florida. Toward the end of the sixteenth century, however, the defeat or failure of what the Spaniards called their invincible armada weakened their naval power so much that they could no longer obstruct settlements by other European nations. Thus in the seventeenth century the English, French, Dutch, Danes, and Swedes—all the major nations with ocean ports—attempted settlements in the new world.
The Swedes settled in New Jersey. The number of Swedish families still found there is sufficient evidence that this colony would very likely have prospered if its mother country had protected it. Neglected by Sweden, however, it was soon absorbed by the Dutch colony of New York, which in turn came under English dominion in 1674.
The small islands of St. Thomas and Santa Cruz are the only territories the Danes have ever held in the new world. These small settlements, too, were governed by an exclusive company, which alone had the right both to purchase the colonies' surplus produce and to supply the foreign goods they needed. In both buying and selling, then, it had not only the power to oppress them but the strongest temptation to do so. The government of an exclusive merchant company is perhaps the worst government any country can have. It could not altogether halt these colonies' progress, though it made that progress slower and weaker. The late king of Denmark dissolved the company, and since then the colonies have prospered greatly.
The Dutch settlements in the West, like those in the East Indies, were originally placed under an exclusive company's government. Though the progress of some of them has been considerable beside that of almost any long-settled and populated country, it has been slow and weak beside that of most new colonies. Surinam, though a substantial colony, is still less developed than most other European nations' sugar colonies. Nova Belgia, now divided into the two provinces of New York and New Jersey, would probably soon have become substantial as well, even if it had remained under Dutch rule. Abundant cheap good land is so powerful a source of prosperity that even the worst government can scarcely suppress its effects altogether. The great distance from the mother country would also have allowed colonists, through smuggling, to evade the company's monopoly to some extent. The company now permits all Dutch ships to trade with Surinam upon payment of two and a-half per cent. of their cargo's value for a license. It reserves for itself only the direct trade from Africa to America, consisting almost entirely of the slave trade. This easing of its exclusive privileges is probably the principal cause of the prosperity the colony now enjoys. Curacoa and Eustatia, the Dutch's two chief islands, are free ports open to ships of every nation. Surrounded by better colonies whose ports admit ships of only one nation, these two barren islands owe much of their prosperity to that freedom.
For most of the last century and part of this one, the French colony of Canada was governed by an exclusive company. Under so unfavorable an administration its growth was necessarily very slow compared with other new colonies. But it became much faster when the company was dissolved after the collapse of the so-called Mississippi scheme. When the English took possession, they found nearly twice as many inhabitants as father Charlevoix had counted between twenty and thirty years earlier. That Jesuit had traveled throughout the country and had no reason to make it appear less substantial than it really was.
The French colony of St. Domingo was founded by pirates and freebooters who for a long time neither sought France's protection nor recognized its authority. When this band of outlaws became enough like citizens to acknowledge that authority, it long had to be exercised with great gentleness. During this period the colony's population and cultivation grew very rapidly. Even the oppression of the exclusive company to which it was subjected for a time, along with all France's other colonies, had only slowed its progress, not stopped it altogether. Its prosperity resumed as soon as that oppression was removed. It is now the most important sugar colony in the West Indies; its output is said to exceed that of all the English sugar colonies combined. France's other sugar colonies are generally flourishing as well.
No colonies, however, have advanced more rapidly than the English colonies in North America.
The two great causes of prosperity in all new colonies appear to be abundant good land and the freedom to manage their affairs in their own way.
Although the English colonies in North America certainly have very abundant good land, they have less than the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, and no more than some of the French colonies before the late war. But the political institutions of the English colonies have favored its improvement and cultivation more than those of the other three nations.
First, the engrossing of uncultivated land, though by no means entirely prevented, has been more limited in the English colonies than elsewhere. A colonial law requires each landowner to improve and cultivate a certain proportion of his land within a fixed period, failing which the neglected land becomes available for grant to someone else. Though perhaps not very strictly enforced, it has nevertheless had some effect.
Secondly, Pennsylvania has no right of primogeniture: land, like movable property, is divided equally among all the family's children. In three New England provinces, the eldest receives only a double portion, as under Mosaic law. Thus even when one person acquires too much land in those provinces, it is likely to be adequately divided again within a generation or two. In the other English colonies, admittedly, primogeniture applies as under English law. But throughout the English colonies, land is held by free soccage, a tenure that makes sale easier; the recipient of a large tract generally finds it profitable to sell most of it as quickly as possible, retaining only a small quit-rent. In the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, the so-called right of majorazzo governs inheritance of all the great estates carrying a title of honor. Each such estate passes undivided to one person and is effectively entailed and unsaleable. The French colonies, it is true, follow the custom of Paris, which favors younger children in the inheritance of land far more than English law does. Yet if any part of an estate held by the noble tenure of chivalry and homage is sold there, the heir of the superior or the heir of the family has, for a limited time, the right to buy it back. All the country's largest estates are held under such noble tenures, which necessarily obstruct sales. In a new colony, however, a large uncultivated estate is likely to be divided much sooner by sale than by inheritance. As already observed, the abundance and low price of good land are the chief causes of new colonies' swift prosperity. Engrossing land in effect abolishes that abundance and low price. Engrossing uncultivated land is, moreover, the greatest obstacle to its improvement, while the labor employed in improving and cultivating land yields society its greatest and most valuable produce. Here the produce of labor pays not only its own wages and the profit on the stock employing it, but also the rent of the land on which it works. English colonial labor, being more occupied in improving and cultivating land, is therefore likely to yield more abundant and valuable produce than the labor of the other three nations, which engrossment of land turns to some extent toward other employments.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 4
18th-century English
Thirdly, The labour of the English colonists is not only likely to afford a greater and more valuable produce, but, in consequence of the moderation of their taxes, a greater proportion of this produce belongs to themselves, which they may store up and employ in putting into motion a still greater quantity of labour. The English colonists have never yet contributed any thing towards the defence of the mother country, or towards the support of its civil government. They themselves, on the contrary, have hitherto been defended almost entirely at the expense of the mother country; but the expense of fleets and armies is out of all proportion greater than the necessary expense of civil government. The expense of their own civil government has always been very moderate. It has generally been confined to what was necessary for paying competent salaries to the governor, to the judges, and to some other officers of police, and for maintaining a few of the most useful public works. The expense of the civil establishment of Massachusetts Bay, before the commencement of the present disturbances, used to be but about £18;000 a-year; that of New Hampshire and Rhode Island, £3500 each; that of Connecticut, £4000; that of New York and Pennsylvania, £4500 each; that of New Jersey, £1200; that of Virginia and South Carolina, £8000 each. The civil establishments of Nova Scotia and Georgia are partly supported by an annual grant of parliament; but Nova Scotia pays, besides, about £7000 a-year towards the public expenses of the colony, and Georgia about £2500 a-year. All the different civil establishments in North America, in short, exclusive of those of Maryland and North Carolina, of which no exact account has been got, did not, before the commencement of the present disturbances, cost the inhabitants above £64,700 a-year; an ever memorable example, at how small an expense three millions of people may not only be governed but well governed. The most important part of the expense of government, indeed, that of defence and protection, has constantly fallen upon the mother country. The ceremonial, too, of the civil government in the colonies, upon the reception of a new governor, upon the opening of a new assembly, etc. though sufficiently decent, is not accompanied with any expensive pomp or parade. Their ecclesiastical government is conducted upon a plan equally frugal. Tithes are unknown among them; and their clergy, who are far from being numerous, are maintained either by moderate stipends, or by the voluntary contributions of the people. The power of Spain and Portugal, on the contrary, derives some support from the taxes levied upon their colonies. France, indeed, has never drawn any considerable revenue from its colonies, the taxes which it levies upon them being generally spent among them. But the colony government of all these three nations is conducted upon a much more extensive plan, and is accompanied with a much more expensive ceremonial. The sums spent upon the reception of a new viceroy of Peru, for example, have frequently been enormous. Such ceremonials are not only real taxes paid by the rich colonists upon those particular occasions, but they serve to introduce among them the habit of vanity and expense upon all other occasions. They are not only very grievous occasional taxes, but they contribute to establish perpetual taxes, of the same kind, still more grievous; the ruinous taxes of private luxury and extravagance. In the colonies of all those three nations, too, the ecclesiastical government is extremely oppressive. Tithes take place in all of them, and are levied with the utmost rigour in those of Spain and Portugal. All of them, besides, are oppressed with a numerous race of mendicant friars, whose beggary being not only licensed but consecrated by religion, is a most grievous tax upon the poor people, who are most carefully taught that it is a duty to give, and a very great sin to refuse them their charity. Over and above all this, the clergy are, in all of them, the greatest engrossers of land.
Fourthly, In the disposal of their surplus produce, or of what is over and above their own consumption, the English colonies have been more favoured, and have been allowed a more extensive market, than those of any other European nation. Every European nation has endeavoured, more or less, to monopolize to itself the commerce of its colonies, and, upon that account, has prohibited the ships of foreign nations from trading to them, and has prohibited them from importing European goods from any foreign nation. But the manner in which this monopoly has been exercised in different nations, has been very different.
Some nations have given up the whole commerce of their colonies to an exclusive company, of whom the colonists were obliged to buy all such European goods as they wanted, and to whom they were obliged to sell the whole of their surplus produce. It was the interest of the company, therefore, not only to sell the former as dear, and to buy the latter as cheap as possible, but to buy no more of the latter, even at this low price, than what they could dispose of for a very high price in Europe. It was their interest not only to degrade in all cases the value of the surplus produce of the colony, but in many cases to discourage and keep down the natural increase of its quantity. Of all the expedients that can well be contrived to stunt the natural growth of a new colony, that of an exclusive company is undoubtedly the most effectual. This, however, has been the policy of Holland, though their company, in the course of the present century, has given up in many respects the exertion of their exclusive privilege. This, too, was the policy of Denmark, till the reign of the late king. It has occasionally been the policy of France; and of late, since 1755, after it had been abandoned by all other nations on account of its absurdity, it has become the policy of Portugal, with regard at least to two of the principal provinces of Brazil, Pernambucco, and Marannon.
Other nations, without establishing an exclusive company, have confined the whole commerce of their colonies to a particular port of the mother country, from whence no ship was allowed to sail, but either in a fleet and at a particular season, or, if single, in consequence of a particular license, which in most cases was very well paid for. This policy opened, indeed, the trade of the colonies to all the natives of the mother country, provided they traded from the proper port, at the proper season, and in the proper vessels. But as all the different merchants, who joined their stocks in order to fit out those licensed vessels, would find it for their interest to act in concert, the trade which was carried on in this manner would necessarily be conducted very nearly upon the same principles as that of an exclusive company. The profit of those merchants would be almost equally exorbitant and oppressive. The colonies would be ill supplied, and would be obliged both to buy very dear, and to sell very cheap. This, however, till within these few years, had always been the policy of Spain; and the price of all European goods, accordingly, is said to have been enormous in the Spanish West Indies. At Quito, we are told by Ulloa, a pound of iron sold for about 4s:6d., and a pound of steel for about 6s:9d. sterling. But it is chiefly in order to purchase European goods that the colonies part with their own produce. The more, therefore, they pay for the one, the less they really get for the other, and the dearness of the one is the same thing with the cheapness of the other. The policy of Portugal is, in this respect, the same as the ancient policy of Spain, with regard to all its colonies, except Pernambucco and Marannon; and with regard to these it has lately adopted a still worse.
Other nations leave the trade of their colonies free to all their subjects, who may carry it on from all the different ports of the mother country, and who have occasion for no other license than the common despatches of the custom-house. In this case the number and dispersed situation of the different traders renders it impossible for them to enter into any general combination, and their competition is sufficient to hinder them from making very exorbitant profits. Under so liberal a policy, the colonies are enabled both to sell their own produce, and to buy the goods of Europe at a reasonable price; but since the dissolution of the Plymouth company, when our colonies were but in their infancy, this has always been the policy of England. It has generally, too, been that of France, and has been uniformly so since the dissolution of what in England is commonly called their Mississippi company. The profits of the trade, therefore, which France and England carry on with their colonies, though no doubt somewhat higher than if the competition were free to all other nations, are, however, by no means exorbitant; and the price of European goods, accordingly, is not extravagantly high in the greater past of the colonies of either of those nations.
In the exportation of their own surplus produce, too, it is only with regard to certain commodities that the colonies of Great Britain are confined to the market of the mother country. These commodities having been enumerated in the act of navigation, and in some other subsequent acts, have upon that account been called enumerated commodities. The rest are called non-enumerated, and may be exported directly to other countries, provided it is in British or plantation ships, of which the owners and three fourths of the mariners are British subjects.
Among the non-enumerated commodities are some of the most important productions of America and the West Indies, grain of all sorts, lumber, salt provisions, fish, sugar, and rum.
Grain is naturally the first and principal object of the culture of all new colonies. By allowing them a very extensive market for it, the law encourages them to extend this culture much beyond the consumption of a thinly inhabited country, and thus to provide beforehand an ample subsistence for a continually increasing population.
In a country quite covered with wood, where timber consequently is of little or no value, the expense of clearing the ground is the principal obstacle to improvement. By allowing the colonies a very extensive market for their lumber, the law endeavours to facilitate improvement by raising the price of a commodity which would otherwise be of little value, and thereby enabling them to make some profit of what would otherwise be mere expense.
In a country neither half peopled nor half cultivated, cattle naturally multiply beyond the consumption of the inhabitants, and are often, upon that account, of little or no value. But it is necessary, it has already been shown, that the price of cattle should bear a certain proportion to that of corn, before the greater part of the lands of any country can be improved. By allowing to American cattle, in all shapes, dead and alive, a very extensive market, the law endeavours to raise the value of a commodity, of which the high price is so very essential to improvement. The good effects of this liberty, however, must be somewhat diminished by the 4th of Geo. III. c. 15, which puts hides and skins among the enumerated commodities, and thereby tends to reduce the value of American cattle.
To increase the shipping and naval power of Great Britain by the extension of the fisheries of our colonies, is an object which the legislature seems to have had almost constantly in view. Those fisheries, upon this account, have had all the encouragement which freedom can give them, and they have flourished accordingly. The New England fishery, in particular, was, before the late disturbances, one of the most important, perhaps, in the world. The whale fishery which, notwithstanding an extravagant bounty, is in Great Britain carried on to so little purpose, that in the opinion of many people ( which I do not, however, pretend to warrant), the whole produce does not much exceed the value of the bounties which are annually paid for it, is in New England carried on, without any bounty, to a very great extent. Fish is one of the principal articles with which the North Americans trade to Spain, Portugal, and the Mediterranean.
Sugar was originally an enumerated commodity, which could only be exported to Great Britain; but in 1751, upon a representation of the sugar-planters, its exportation was permitted to all parts of the world. The restrictions, however, with which this liberty was granted, joined to the high price of sugar in Great Britain, have rendered it in a great measure ineffectual. Great Britain and her colonies still continue to be almost the sole market for all sugar produced in the British plantations. Their consumption increases so fast, that, though in consequence of the increasing improvement of Jamaica, as well as of the ceded islands, the importation of sugar has increased very greatly within these twenty years, the exportation to foreign countries is said to be not much greater than before.
Rum is a very important article in the trade which the Americans carry on to the coast of Africa, from which they bring back negro slaves in return.
If the whole surplus produce of America, in grain of all sorts, in salt provisions, and in fish, had been put into the enumeration, and thereby forced into the market of Great Britain, it would have interfered too much with the produce of the industry of our own people. It was probably not so much from any regard to the interest of America, as from a jealousy of this interference, that those important commodities have not only been kept out of the enumeration, but that the importation into Great Britain of all grain, except rice, and of all salt provisions, has, in the ordinary state of the law, been prohibited.
The non-enumerated commodities could originally be exported to all parts of the world. Lumber and rice having been once put into the enumeration, when they were afterwards taken out of it, were confined, as to the European market, to the countries that lie south of Cape Finisterre. By the 6th of George III. c. 52, all non-enumerated commodities were subjected to the like restriction. The parts of Europe which lie south of Cape Finisterre are not manufacturing countries, and we are less jealous of the colony ships carrying home from them any manufactures which could interfere with our own.
English
Thirdly, English colonial labor is likely not only to produce more and better goods: because taxes are moderate, a larger share of that produce remains with the colonists themselves. They can accumulate it and employ it to set still more labor in motion. The English colonists have never yet contributed anything to the defense of the mother country or the support of its civil government. On the contrary, their own defense has hitherto been paid for almost entirely by the mother country; and fleets and armies cost vastly more than civil government need cost. The expense of the colonies' own civil government has always been very modest. It has generally covered only adequate salaries for the governor, judges, and certain other officers of police, and the upkeep of a few particularly useful public works. Before the present disturbances began, the civil establishment of Massachusetts Bay cost only about £18;000 a-year; New Hampshire and Rhode Island, £3500 each; Connecticut, £4000; New York and Pennsylvania, £4500 each; New Jersey, £1200; Virginia and South Carolina, £8000 each. The civil establishments of Nova Scotia and Georgia receive partial support from an annual parliamentary grant. Nova Scotia also contributes about £7000 a-year to its public expenses, and Georgia about £2500 a-year. In short, before the present disturbances began, all the civil establishments of North America together, excluding Maryland and North Carolina, for which no precise figures have been obtained, cost their inhabitants no more than £64,700 a-year. This is an ever memorable example of how three millions of people can be governed, and governed well, at so little expense. The most important governmental expense, to be sure—defense and protection—has consistently fallen on the mother country. Even the ceremonies of colonial civil government, on the arrival of a new governor or opening of a new assembly, etc., are sufficiently dignified without costly pomp or display. Church government follows an equally frugal plan. Tithes are unknown, and the clergy, far from numerous, are supported either by moderate stipends or by voluntary contributions from the people. By contrast, taxes on the colonies provide some support to the power of Spain and Portugal. France, admittedly, has never drawn much revenue from its colonies, since the taxes it raises there are generally spent there. But the colonial governments of all three nations operate on a much larger scale and attend to far more expensive ceremonies. The sums spent on the reception of a new viceroy of Peru, for example, have often been enormous. Such ceremonies are not merely actual taxes borne by wealthy colonists on those particular occasions: they also cultivate habits of vanity and expense on every other occasion. Beyond being severe occasional taxes, they help establish perpetual and still more severe ones of the same sort—the ruinous taxes of private luxury and extravagance. Church government in the colonies of all three nations is likewise exceedingly oppressive. All have tithes, exacted with the utmost rigor in the Spanish and Portuguese colonies. All are further burdened by numerous mendicant friars. Their begging, not merely permitted but sanctified by religion, is an especially severe tax on the poor, who are carefully taught that giving them charity is a duty and refusing it a very great sin. Beyond all this, the clergy in each of these countries are the greatest engrossers of land.
Fourthly, in selling their surplus produce—what remains beyond their own consumption—the English colonies have enjoyed more favorable treatment and access to a wider market than any other European nation's colonies. Every European nation has sought, in some measure, to monopolize its colonies' trade. It has accordingly barred foreign ships from trading with them and forbidden them to import European goods from foreign nations. But nations have exercised this monopoly in very different ways.
Some nations have granted all their colonies' commerce to an exclusive company, from which colonists had to buy every European good they needed and to which they had to sell all their surplus produce. The company thus had an interest not only in selling the former as dearly and buying the latter as cheaply as possible, but in buying no more produce, even at that low price, than it could sell at a very high price in Europe. Its interest lay in reducing the value of colonial surplus produce in every instance and, in many instances, in discouraging and suppressing the natural growth of its quantity. Of all measures that can readily be devised to stunt a new colony's natural growth, an exclusive company is undoubtedly the most effective. Yet this has been the policy of Holland, though during the present century its company has in many respects ceased to exercise its exclusive privilege. It was also Denmark's policy until the late king's reign. France has occasionally adopted it; and, more recently, since 1755, Portugal has adopted it for at least two leading Brazilian provinces, Pernambucco and Marannon, after every other nation had abandoned it as absurd.
Other nations, without creating an exclusive company, have restricted all colonial commerce to one port in the mother country. From that port a ship could sail only with a fleet at a specified season or, if sailing alone, under a special license, usually obtained at considerable expense. This policy did open colonial trade to all subjects of the mother country, provided they traded from the proper port, at the proper season, and in the proper vessels. But the various merchants who pooled their stocks to equip those licensed vessels would have an interest in acting together. Trade conducted this way would therefore necessarily follow nearly the same principles as trade conducted by an exclusive company. Their profits would be nearly as exorbitant and oppressive. The colonies would be poorly supplied, compelled to buy very dear and sell very cheap. Until a few years ago, this had always been Spain's policy; the prices of all European goods in the Spanish West Indies are accordingly said to have been enormous. Ulloa tells us that in Quito a pound of iron sold for about 4s:6d., and a pound of steel for about 6s:9d. sterling. Yet it is chiefly to buy European goods that the colonies part with their own produce. The more they pay for those goods, therefore, the less they really receive for their produce: making the one dear is equivalent to making the other cheap. In this respect Portugal's policy toward all its colonies except Pernambucco and Marannon is the same as Spain's old policy; for these two it has lately adopted a still worse one.
Still other nations leave colonial trade open to all their subjects, who may conduct it from any port of the mother country and need no license beyond ordinary customs-house papers. The number and scattered situation of these traders make a general combination impossible; their competition keeps profits from becoming very exorbitant. Under such a liberal policy colonies can sell their produce and buy European goods at reasonable prices. Since the dissolution of the Plymouth company, when our colonies were still in their infancy, this has always been England's policy. It has generally been France's policy too, and has invariably been so since the dissolution of the company commonly called its Mississippi company in England. Though profits on the colonial trade of France and England are doubtless somewhat higher than they would be if merchants of all nations could compete, they are by no means exorbitant. Accordingly, European goods are not extravagantly expensive in the greater part of either nation's colonies.
Moreover, only certain goods in the British colonies' surplus produce are restricted for export to the mother-country market. Because these goods are listed in the act of navigation and some later acts, they are called enumerated commodities. The rest are called non-enumerated and may be exported directly to other countries, provided they travel in British or plantation ships whose owners and three fourths of whose mariners are British subjects.
The non-enumerated commodities include some of the most important products of America and the West Indies: every kind of grain, lumber, salt provisions, fish, sugar, and rum.
Grain is naturally the first and principal crop cultivated in every new colony. By giving the colonies a very wide market for it, the law encourages them to grow far more than a thinly populated country can consume, thus securing abundant food in advance for a continually increasing population.
Where a country is entirely wooded, timber is consequently worth little or nothing, and the cost of clearing land is the chief obstacle to improvement. By giving the colonies a broad market for lumber, the law seeks to promote improvement. It raises the value of a commodity otherwise worth little, allowing them to profit to some extent from what would otherwise be mere expense.
In a country less than half populated and less than half cultivated, cattle naturally multiply beyond what its inhabitants can consume and are often worth little or nothing as a result. But, as has already been shown, cattle must command a certain price relative to grain before most of any country's land can be improved. By allowing a very extensive market for American cattle in every form, dead and alive, the law seeks to raise the value of a commodity whose high price is so essential to improvement. The beneficial effects of this freedom must, however, have been somewhat reduced by the 4th of Geo. III. c. 15, which classifies hides and skins as enumerated commodities and thereby tends to lower the value of American cattle.
Increasing Great Britain's shipping and naval strength by expanding the colonial fisheries appears to have been an almost constant aim of the legislature. The fisheries have accordingly received all the encouragement freedom can offer and have flourished. The New England fishery in particular was, before the late disturbances, perhaps among the most important in the world. In Great Britain, despite an extravagant bounty, whaling accomplishes so little that, in many people's opinion—which I do not profess to endorse—the entire catch barely exceeds the value of the bounties paid for it each year. In New England it is carried on extensively without any bounty. Fish is one of the chief articles with which North Americans trade to Spain, Portugal, and the Mediterranean.
Sugar was originally enumerated and could be exported only to Great Britain. In 1751, however, following representations by sugar planters, permission was given to export it anywhere in the world. The restrictions attached to this freedom, together with the high price of sugar in Great Britain, have made it largely ineffective. Great Britain and her colonies remain almost the only market for all the sugar produced on British plantations. Their consumption is rising so fast that, although increasing cultivation in Jamaica and the ceded islands has greatly increased sugar imports during these twenty years, exports to foreign countries are said to be little greater than before.
Rum is a very important article of American trade with the African coast, from which the Americans bring back enslaved Black people in exchange.
If all America's surplus grain of every kind, salt provisions, and fish had been enumerated and thus forced into Great Britain's market, they would have competed too much with the products of our own people's industry. Probably it was less concern for America's interests than fear of such competition that kept these important commodities off the list and, under the ordinary law, prohibited the importation into Great Britain of all grain except rice and of all salt provisions.
Originally non-enumerated commodities could be exported anywhere in the world. Lumber and rice were once enumerated; when later removed from the list, their European markets were restricted to countries south of Cape Finisterre. The 6th of George III. c. 52 imposed the same restriction on all non-enumerated goods. The European regions south of Cape Finisterre are not manufacturing countries, so we are less afraid that colonial ships will bring back from them manufactured goods that could compete with ours.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 5
18th-century English
The enumerated commodities are of two sorts; first, such as are either the peculiar produce of America, or as cannot be produced, or at least are not produced in the mother country. Of this kind are molasses, coffee, cocoa-nuts, tobacco, pimento, ginger, whalefins, raw silk, cotton, wool, beaver, and other peltry of America, indigo, fustick, and other dyeing woods; secondly, such as are not the peculiar produce of America, but which are, and may be produced in the mother country, though not in such quantities as to supply the greater part of her demand, which is principally supplied from foreign countries. Of this kind are all naval stores, masts, yards, and bowsprits, tar, pitch, and turpentine, pig and bar iron, copper ore, hides and skins, pot and pearl ashes. The largest importation of commodities of the first kind could not discourage the growth, or interfere with the sale, of any part of the produce of the mother country. By confining them to the home market, our merchants, it was expected, would not only be enabled to buy them cheaper in the plantations, and consequently to sell them with a better profit at home, but to establish between the plantations and foreign countries an advantageous carrying trade, of which Great Britain was necessarily to be the centre or emporium, as the European country into which those commodities were first to be imported. The importation of commodities of the second kind might be so managed too, it was supposed, as to interfere, not with the sale of those of the same kind which were produced at home, but with that of those which were imported from foreign countries; because, by means of proper duties, they might be rendered always somewhat dearer than the former, and yet a good deal cheaper than the latter. By confining such commodities to the home market, therefore, it was proposed to discourage the produce, not of Great Britain, but of some foreign countries with which the balance of trade was believed to be unfavourable to Great Britain.
The prohibition of exporting from the colonies to any other country but Great Britain, masts, yards, and bowsprits, tar, pitch, and turpentine, naturally tended to lower the price of timber in the colonies, and consequently to increase the expense of clearing their lands, the principal obstacle to their improvement. But about the beginning of the present century, in 1703, the pitch and tar company of Sweden endeavoured to raise the price of their commodities to Great Britain, by prohibiting their exportation, except in their own ships, at their own price, and in such quantities as they thought proper. In order to counteract this notable piece of mercantile policy, and to render herself as much as possible independent, not only of Sweden, but of all the other northern powers, Great Britain gave a bounty upon the importation of naval stores from America; and the effect of this bounty was to raise the price of timber in America much more than the confinement to the home market could lower it; and as both regulations were enacted at the same time, their joint effect was rather to encourage than to discourage the clearing of land in America.
Though pig and bar iron, too, have been put among the enumerated commodities, yet as, when imported from America, they are exempted from considerable duties to which they are subject when imported front any other country, the one part of the regulation contributes more to encourage the erection of furnaces in America than the other to discourage it. There is no manufacture which occasions so great a consumption of wood as a furnace, or which can contribute so much to the clearing of a country overgrown with it.
The tendency of some of these regulations to raise the value of timber in America, and thereby to facilitate the clearing of the land, was neither, perhaps, intended nor understood by the legislature. Though their beneficial effects, however, have been in this respect accidental, they have not upon that account been less real.
The most perfect freedom of trade is permitted between the British colonies of America and the West Indies, both in the enumerated and in the non-enumerated commodities Those colonies are now become so populous and thriving, that each of them finds in some of the others a great and extensive market for every part of its produce. All of them taken together, they make a great internal market for the produce of one another.
The liberality of England, however, towards the trade of her colonies, has been confined chiefly to what concerns the market for their produce, either in its rude state, or in what may be called the very first stage of manufacture. The more advanced or more refined manufactures, even of the colony produce, the merchants and manufacturers of Great Britain chuse to reserve to themselves, and have prevailed upon the legislature to prevent their establishment in the colonies, sometimes by high duties, and sometimes by absolute prohibitions.
While, for example, Muscovado sugars from the British plantations pay, upon importation, only 6s:4d. the hundred weight, white sugars pay £1:1:1; and refined, either double or single, in loaves, £4:2:5 ⁸⁄₂₀ths. When those high duties were imposed, Great Britain was the sole, and she still continues to be, the principal market, to which the sugars of the British colonies could be exported. They amounted, therefore, to a prohibition, at first of claying or refining sugar for any foreign market, and at present of claying or refining it for the market which takes off, perhaps, more than nine-tenths of the whole produce. The manufacture of claying or refining sugar, accordingly, though it has flourished in all the sugar colonies of France, has been little cultivated in any of those of England, except for the market of the colonies themselves. While Grenada was in the hands of the French, there was a refinery of sugar, by claying, at least upon almost every plantation. Since it fell into those of the English, almost all works of this kind have been given up; and there are at present (October 1773), I am assured, not above two or three remaining in the island. At present, however, by an indulgence of the custom-house, clayed or refined sugar, if reduced from loaves into powder, is commonly imported as Muscovado.
While Great Britain encourages in America the manufacturing of pig and bar iron, by exempting them from duties to which the like commodities are subject when imported from any other country, she imposes an absolute prohibition upon the erection of steel furnaces and slit-mills in any of her American plantations. She will not suffer her colonies to work in those more refined manufactures, even for their own consumption; but insists upon their purchasing of her merchants and manufacturers all goods of this kind which they have occasion for.
She prohibits the exportation from one province to another by water, and even the carriage by land upon horseback, or in a cart, of hats, of wools, and woollen goods, of the produce of America; a regulation which effectually prevents the establishment of any manufacture of such commodities for distant sale, and confines the industry of her colonists in this way to such coarse and household manufactures as a private family commonly makes for its own use, or for that of some of its neighbours in the same province.
To prohibit a great people, however, from making all that they can of every part of their own produce, or from employing their stock and industry in the way that they judge most advantageous to themselves, is a manifest violation of the most sacred rights of mankind. Unjust, however, as such prohibitions may be, they have not hitherto been very hurtful to the colonies. Land is still so cheap, and, consequently, labour so dear among them, that they can import from the mother country almost all the more refined or more advanced manufactures cheaper than they could make them for themselves. Though they had not, therefore, been prohibited from establishing such manufactures, yet, in their present state of improvement, a regard to their own interest would probably have prevented them from doing so. In their present state of improvement, those prohibitions, perhaps, without cramping their industry, or restraining it from any employment to which it would have gone of its own accord, are only impertinent badges of slavery imposed upon them, without any sufficient reason, by the groundless jealousy of the merchants and manufacturers of the mother country. In a more advanced state, they might be really oppressive and insupportable.
Great Britain, too, as she confines to her own market some of the most important productions of the colonies, so, in compensation, she gives to some of them an advantage in that market, sometimes by imposing higher duties upon the like productions when imported from other countries, and sometimes by giving bounties upon their importation from the colonies. In the first way, she gives an advantage in the home market to the sugar, tobacco, and iron of her own colonies; and, in the second, to their raw silk, to their hemp and flax, to their indigo, to their naval stores, and to their building timber. This second way of encouraging the colony produce, by bounties upon importation, is, so far as I have been able to learn, peculiar to Great Britain: the first is not. Portugal does not content herself with imposing higher duties upon the importation of tobacco from any other country, but prohibits it under the severest penalties.
With regard to the importation of goods from Europe, England has likewise dealt more liberally with her colonies than any other nation.
Great Britain allows a part, almost always the half, generally a larger portion, and sometimes the whole, of the duty which is paid upon the importation of foreign goods, to be drawn back upon their exportation to any foreign country. No independent foreign country, it was easy to foresee, would receive them, if they came to it loaded with the heavy duties to which almost all foreign goods are subjected on their importation into Great Britain. Unless, therefore, some part of those duties was drawn back upon exportation, there was an end of the carrying trade; a trade so much favoured by the mercantile system.
Our colonies, however, are by no means independent foreign countries; and Great Britain having assumed to herself the exclusive right of supplying them with all goods from Europe, might have forced them (in the same manner as other countries have done their colonies) to receive such goods loaded with all the same duties which they paid in the mother country. But, on the contrary, till 1763, the same drawbacks were paid upon the exportation of the greater part of foreign goods to our colonies, as to any independent foreign country. In 1763, indeed, by the 4th of Geo. III. c. 15, this indulgence was a good deal abated, and it was enacted, “That no part of the duty called the old subsidy should be drawn back for any goods of the growth, production, or manufacture of Europe or the East Indies, which should be exported from this kingdom to any British colony or plantation in America; wines, white calicoes, and muslins, excepted.” Before this law, many different sorts of foreign goods might have been bought cheaper in the plantations than in the mother country, and some may still.
Of the greater part of the regulations concerning the colony trade, the merchants who carry it on, it must be observed, have been the principal advisers. We must not wonder, therefore, if, in a great part of them, their interest has been more considered than either that of the colonies or that of the mother country. In their exclusive privilege of supplying the colonies with all the goods which they wanted from Europe, and of purchasing all such parts of their surplus produce as could not interfere with any of the trades which they themselves carried on at home, the interest of the colonies was sacrificed to the interest of those merchants. In allowing the same drawbacks upon the re-exportation of the greater part of European and East India goods to the colonies, as upon their re-exportation to any independent country, the interest of the mother country was sacrificed to it, even according to the mercantile ideas of that interest. It was for the interest of the merchants to pay as little as possible for the foreign goods which they sent to the colonies, and, consequently, to get back as much as possible of the duties which they advanced upon their importation into Great Britain. They might thereby be enabled to sell in the colonies, either the same quantity of goods with a greater profit, or a greater quantity with the same profit, and, consequently, to gain something either in the one way or the other. It was likewise for the interest of the colonies to get all such goods as cheap, and in as great abundance as possible. But this might not always be for the interest of the mother country. She might frequently suffer, both in her revenue, by giving back a great part of the duties which had been paid upon the importation of such goods; and in her manufactures, by being undersold in the colony market, in consequence of the easy terms upon which foreign manufactures could be carried thither by means of those drawbacks. The progress of the linen manufacture of Great Britain, it is commonly said, has been a good deal retarded by the drawbacks upon the re-exportation of German linen to the American colonies.
But though the policy of Great Britain, with regard to the trade of her colonies, has been dictated by the same mercantile spirit as that of other nations, it has, however, upon the whole, been less illiberal and oppressive than that of any of them.
In every thing except their foreign trade, the liberty of the English colonists to manage their own affairs their own way, is complete. It is in every respect equal to that of their fellow-citizens at home, and is secured in the same manner, by an assembly of the representatives of the people, who claim the sole right of imposing taxes for the support of the colony government. The authority of this assembly overawes the executive power; and neither the meanest nor the most obnoxious colonist, as long as he obeys the law, has any thing to fear from the resentment, either of the governor, or of any other civil or military officer in the province. The colony assemblies, though, like the house of commons in England, they are not always a very equal representation of the people, yet they approach more nearly to that character; and as the executive power either has not the means to corrupt them, or, on account of the support which it receives from the mother country, is not under the necessity of doing so, they are, perhaps, in general more influenced by the inclinations of their constituents. The councils, which, in the colony legislatures, correspond to the house of lords in Great Britain, are not composed of a hereditary nobility. In some of the colonies, as in three of the governments of New England, those councils are not appointed by the king, but chosen by the representatives of the people. In none of the English colonies is there any hereditary nobility. In all of them, indeed, as in all other free countries, the descendant of an old colony family is more respected than an upstart of equal merit and fortune; but he is only more respected, and he has no privileges by which he can be troublesome to his neighbours. Before the commencement of the present disturbances, the colony assemblies had not only the legislative, but a part of the executive power. In Connecticut and Rhode Island, they elected the governor. In the other colonies, they appointed the revenue officers, who collected the taxes imposed by those respective assemblies, to whom those officers were immediately responsible. There is more equality, therefore, among the English colonists than among the inhabitants of the mother country. Their manners are more re publican; and their governments, those of three of the provinces of New England in particular, have hitherto been more republican too.
English
The enumerated commodities fall into two kinds. First are goods either peculiar to America or impossible to produce, or at least not produced, in the mother country. These include molasses, coffee, cocoa-nuts, tobacco, pimento, ginger, whalefins, raw silk, cotton, wool, beaver and other American furs, indigo, fustick, and other dye-woods. Secondly come goods not peculiar to America, which can be, and are, produced in the mother country, though not in sufficient quantities to meet most of her demand, which is chiefly supplied by foreign countries. These include every kind of naval store—masts, yards, and bowsprits; tar, pitch, and turpentine—pig and bar iron, copper ore, hides and skins, and pot and pearl ashes. Even the largest importation of the first kind could neither discourage the growth nor obstruct the sale of anything produced in the mother country. By restricting these goods to the home market, it was expected that our merchants could buy them more cheaply in the plantations and consequently sell them at home at a better profit. They could also establish a profitable carrying trade between the plantations and foreign countries, with Great Britain necessarily serving as its center or emporium, since she would be the first European country into which those goods were imported. Imports of the second kind, it was thought, could also be managed to compete not with sales of equivalent goods produced at home, but with sales of those imported from abroad. Suitable duties could keep the colonial goods somewhat dearer than the former yet considerably cheaper than the latter. Restricting such goods to the home market was therefore intended to discourage the production not of Great Britain, but of certain foreign countries with which the balance of trade was believed unfavorable to her.
Prohibiting the colonies from exporting masts, yards, and bowsprits, tar, pitch, and turpentine anywhere but Great Britain naturally tended to lower the price of timber in the colonies. It therefore tended to increase the cost of clearing their land, the main obstacle to improvement. But around the beginning of this century, in 1703, Sweden's pitch and tar company attempted to raise its prices to Great Britain by banning exports except on its own ships, at its own prices, and in such quantities as it chose. To counter this remarkable piece of mercantile policy and make herself as independent as possible not only of Sweden but of every other northern power, Great Britain offered a bounty on naval stores imported from America. The bounty raised American timber prices much more than restriction to the home market could lower them. Because the two measures were enacted at the same time, their combined effect was to encourage, rather than discourage, clearing land in America.
Pig and bar iron have also been placed among the enumerated commodities. Yet imports from America are exempt from considerable duties imposed on those from any other country. One part of the regulation thus does more to encourage building furnaces in America than the other does to discourage it. No manufacture consumes as much wood as a furnace or can do as much to clear a densely wooded country.
Perhaps the legislature neither intended nor understood that some of these regulations would raise the value of American timber and thereby make it easier to clear land. Accidental though their benefits in this respect may have been, they have been no less real.
The British colonies of America and the West Indies are allowed completely free trade with one another in both enumerated and non-enumerated commodities. They have now become so populous and prosperous that each finds among the others a large market for every part of its produce. Together they constitute a great internal market for one another's goods.
England's liberality toward colonial trade, however, has chiefly concerned markets for colonial produce in its raw condition or in what might be called the very first stage of manufacture. The merchants and manufacturers of Great Britain choose to reserve the more advanced or refined manufactures, even those made from colonial produce, for themselves. They have persuaded the legislature to prevent their establishment in the colonies, sometimes with high duties, sometimes with outright bans.
For example, Muscovado sugars from the British plantations pay only 6s:4d. the hundred weight on importation, while white sugars pay £1:1:1, and refined sugar, whether double or single, in loaves pays £4:2:5 ⁸⁄₂₀ths. When these high duties were imposed, Great Britain was the only market to which the British colonies could export sugar, and she remains their principal market. The duties therefore amounted at first to a ban on claying or refining sugar for any foreign market, and now to a ban on doing so for the market that takes perhaps more than nine-tenths of the total output. Consequently, although claying and refining sugar have flourished throughout the French sugar colonies, they have scarcely been practiced in the English colonies except to supply the colonies themselves. When Grenada belonged to France, almost every plantation had at least one refinery for claying sugar. Since it passed into English hands nearly all such works have closed; at present (October 1773), I am assured, no more than two or three remain on the island. Now, however, by indulgence of the custom-house, clayed or refined sugar ground from loaves into powder is commonly imported as Muscovado.
While Great Britain encourages the production of pig and bar iron in America by exempting them from duties imposed on comparable imports from every other country, she absolutely prohibits the building of steel furnaces and slit-mills in any of her American plantations. She will not allow the colonies to pursue those more refined manufactures even for their own consumption, insisting instead that they buy every good of this kind they need from her merchants and manufacturers.
She prohibits hats, wool, and woolen goods produced in America from being exported by water from one province to another, or even carried by land on horseback or in a cart. This effectively prevents any manufacture of such goods for sale at a distance, confining her colonists' work in these trades to the rough domestic manufacture a family ordinarily undertakes for its own use or that of neighbors in the same province.
To forbid a great people to make all they can of every part of their own produce, or to employ their stock and industry in the way they themselves judge most advantageous, is nevertheless a plain violation of humanity's most sacred rights. Unjust as these prohibitions are, they have not so far done much harm to the colonies. Land there is still so cheap, and labor consequently so dear, that the colonists can import almost every more refined or advanced manufactured good from the mother country more cheaply than they could make it themselves. Even without the prohibitions, therefore, their own interest would probably have deterred them from establishing such manufactures at their present stage of improvement. For now, rather than cramping their industry or diverting it from work it would otherwise pursue, these prohibitions may be only insolent badges of servitude, imposed without sufficient reason by the groundless jealousy of the mother country's merchants and manufacturers. At a more advanced stage, they could become genuinely oppressive and intolerable.
Great Britain, moreover, compensates for confining some of the colonies' most important products to her market by granting some of them advantages in that market. Sometimes she imposes higher duties on comparable products imported from other countries; sometimes she grants bounties on imports from the colonies. By the former means she favors her colonies' sugar, tobacco, and iron in her home market; by the latter, their raw silk, hemp and flax, indigo, naval stores, and building timber. So far as I have learned, this second means of encouraging colonial produce—import bounties—is peculiar to Great Britain. The first is not: Portugal not only imposes higher duties on tobacco imported from other countries but forbids its importation under the severest penalties.
England has likewise treated her colonies more liberally than any other nation regarding imports of European goods.
When foreign goods imported into Great Britain are exported onward to another foreign country, she allows part of the import duty to be refunded—almost always half, generally more, and sometimes all of it. It was easy to foresee that no independent foreign country would accept the goods if they arrived burdened with the heavy duties imposed on almost every foreign good entering Great Britain. Unless some of those duties were refunded upon export, then, the carrying trade would have ended—a trade so greatly favored by the mercantile system.
Our colonies, however, are by no means independent foreign countries. Having claimed for herself the exclusive right to supply them with all European goods, Great Britain might have forced them, as other countries have forced their colonies, to accept goods bearing all the duties paid in the mother country. Instead, until 1763, exports to our colonies of most foreign goods received the same duty refunds as exports to any independent foreign country. In 1763, however, this concession was considerably reduced by the 4th of Geo. III. c. 15, which enacted: “That no part of the duty called the old subsidy should be drawn back for any goods of the growth, production, or manufacture of Europe or the East Indies, which should be exported from this kingdom to any British colony or plantation in America; wines, white calicoes, and muslins, excepted.” Before this law, many varieties of foreign goods could have been bought more cheaply on the plantations than in the mother country, and some still can.
It should be noted that merchants engaged in colonial trade have been the principal advisers on most regulations governing it. We should not be surprised, then, that many of those regulations give more weight to their interests than to those of either the colonies or the mother country. The merchants' exclusive privilege of supplying all European goods the colonies needed and buying all their surplus goods that would not compete with the merchants' trade at home sacrificed colonial interests to theirs. Even by mercantile notions of the mother country's interest, allowing the same duty refunds on re-exports of most European and East India goods to the colonies as on re-exports to an independent country sacrificed her interests to theirs. The merchants benefited from paying as little as possible for foreign goods they sent to the colonies and thus from recovering as much as possible of the duties they had advanced when importing them into Great Britain. They could then sell the same quantity in the colonies at a higher profit or a larger quantity at the same profit, and gain either way. It also benefited the colonies to obtain all such goods as cheaply and abundantly as possible. But that did not always benefit the mother country. She might often lose revenue by returning much of the duty paid when the goods entered, and her manufactures might suffer when foreign manufactures, brought to the colonial market on favorable terms through those refunds, undersold them. The refunds on German linen re-exported to the American colonies are commonly said to have considerably slowed the progress of Britain's linen manufacture.
Yet although Great Britain's policy on colonial trade has been inspired by the same mercantile spirit as other nations' policies, on the whole it has been less illiberal and oppressive than any of theirs.
Except in foreign trade, English colonists enjoy complete freedom to manage their affairs in their own way. Their liberty is in every respect equal to that of their fellow citizens at home, secured in the same manner by an assembly of popular representatives claiming the sole right to levy taxes to support the colonial government. This assembly holds the executive power in check. As long as he obeys the law, neither the poorest nor the most disliked colonist need fear the resentment of the governor or any other civil or military officer in the province. Like the house of commons in England, colonial assemblies do not always represent the people very equally; still, they come closer to doing so. And because the executive power either lacks the means to corrupt them or, with support from the mother country, has no need to, they are perhaps generally more responsive to their constituents' wishes. The councils corresponding to Great Britain's house of lords in the colonial legislatures do not consist of hereditary nobles. In some colonies, including three of the New England governments, these councils are chosen not by the king but by the people's representatives. No English colony has a hereditary nobility. Certainly, as in other free countries, descendants of old colonial families receive more respect than newcomers of equal merit and fortune; but respect is all they receive, not privileges enabling them to trouble their neighbors. Before the present disturbances began, colonial assemblies held not just legislative power but part of the executive power as well. In Connecticut and Rhode Island they elected the governor. In the other colonies they appointed the revenue officers who collected the taxes those assemblies imposed and were directly accountable to them. Thus there is greater equality among English colonists than among inhabitants of the mother country. Their manners are more republican, and their governments—particularly those of three New England provinces—have also hitherto been more republican.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 6
18th-century English
The absolute governments of Spain, Portugal, and France, on the contrary, take place in their colonies; and the discretionary powers which such governments commonly delegate to all their inferior officers are, on account of the great distance, naturally exercised there with more than ordinary violence. Under all absolute governments, there is more liberty in the capital than in any other part of the country. The sovereign himself can never have either interest or inclination to pervert the order of justice, or to oppress the great body of the people. In the capital, his presence overawes, more or less, all his inferior officers, who, in the remoter provinces, from whence the complaints of the people are less likely to reach him, can exercise their tyranny with much more safety. But the European colonies in America are more remote than the most distant provinces of the greatest empires which had ever been known before. The government of the English colonies is, perhaps, the only one which, since the world began, could give perfect security to the inhabitants of so very distant a province. The administration of the French colonies, however, has always been conducted with much more gentleness and moderation than that of the Spanish and Portuguese. This superiority of conduct is suitable both to the character of the French nation, and to what forms the character of every nation, the nature of their government, which, though arbitrary and violent in comparison with that of Great Britain, is legal and free in comparison with those of Spain and Portugal.
It is in the progress of the North American colonies, however, that the superiority of the English policy chiefly appears. The progress of the sugar colonies of France has been at least equal, perhaps superior, to that of the greater part of those of England; and yet the sugar colonies of England enjoy a free government, nearly of the same kind with that which takes place in her colonies of North America. But the sugar colonies of France are not discouraged, like those of England, from refining their own sugar; and what is still of greater importance, the genius of their government naturally introduces a better management of their negro slaves.
In all European colonies, the culture of the sugar-cane is carried on by negro slaves. The constitution of those who have been born in the temperate climate of Europe could not, it is supposed, support the labour of digging the ground under the burning sun of the West Indies; and the culture of the sugar-cane, as it is managed at present, is all hand labour; though, in the opinion of many, the drill plough might be introduced into it with great advantage. But, as the profit and success of the cultivation which is carried on by means of cattle, depend very much upon the good management of those cattle; so the profit and success of that which is carried on by slaves must depend equally upon the good management of those slaves; and in the good management of their slaves the French planters, I think it is generally allowed, are superior to the English. The law, so far as it gives some weak protection to the slave against the violence of his master, is likely to be better executed in a colony where the government is in a great measure arbitrary, than in one where it is altogether free. In every country where the unfortunate law of slavery is established, the magistrate, when he protects the slave, intermeddles in some measure in the management of the private property of the master; and, in a free country, where the master is, perhaps, either a member of the colony assembly, or an elector of such a member, he dares not do this but with the greatest caution and circumspection. The respect which he is obliged to pay to the master, renders it more difficult for him to protect the slave. But in a country where the government is in a great measure arbitrary, where it is usual for the magistrate to intermeddle even in the management of the private property of individuals, and to send them, perhaps, a lettre de cachet, if they do not manage it according to his liking, it is much easier for him to give some protection to the slave; and common humanity naturally disposes him to do so. The protection of the magistrate renders the slave less contemptible in the eyes of his master, who is thereby induced to consider him with more regard, and to treat him with more gentleness. Gentle usage renders the slave not only more faithful, but more intelligent, and, therefore, upon a double account, more useful. He approaches more to the condition of a free servant, and may possess some degree of integrity and attachment to his master’s interest; virtues which frequently belong to free servants, but which never can belong to a slave, who is treated as slaves commonly are in countries where the master is perfectly free and secure.
That the condition of a slave is better under an arbitrary than under a free government, is, I believe, supported by the history of all ages and nations. In the Roman history, the first time we read of the magistrate interposing to protect the slave from the violence of his master, is under the emperors. When Vidius Pollio, in the presence of Augustus, ordered one of his slaves, who had committed a slight fault, to be cut into pieces and thrown into his fish-pond, in order to feed his fishes, the emperor commanded him, with indignation, to emancipate immediately, not only that slave, but all the others that belonged to him. Under the republic no magistrate could have had authority enough to protect the slave, much less to punish the master.
The stock, it is to be observed, which has improved the sugar colonies of France, particularly the great colony of St Domingo, has been raised almost entirely from the gradual improvement and cultivation of those colonies. It has been almost altogether the produce of the soil and of the industry of the colonists, or, what comes to the same thing, the price of that produce, gradually accumulated by good management, and employed in raising a still greater produce. But the stock which has improved and cultivated the sugar colonies of England, has, a great part of it, been sent out from England, and has by no means been altogether the produce of the soil and industry of the colonists. The prosperity of the English sugar colonies has been in a great measure owing to the great riches of England, of which a part has overflowed, if one may say so, upon these colonies. But the prosperity of the sugar colonies of France has been entirely owing to the good conduct of the colonists, which must therefore have had some superiority over that of the English; and this superiority has been remarked in nothing so much as in the good management of their slaves.
Such have been the general outlines of the policy of the different European nations with regard to their colonies.
The policy of Europe, therefore, has very little to boast of, either in the original establishment, or, so far as concerns their internal government, in the subsequent prosperity of the colonies of America.
Folly and injustice seem to have been the principles which presided over and directed the first project of establishing those colonies; the folly of hunting after gold and silver mines, and the injustice of coveting the possession of a country whose harmless natives, far from having ever injured the people of Europe, had received the first adventurers with every mark of kindness and hospitality.
The adventurers, indeed, who formed some of the latter establishments, joined to the chimerical project of finding gold and silver mines, other motives more reasonable and more laudable; but even these motives do very little honour to the policy of Europe.
The English puritans, restrained at home, fled for freedom to America, and established there the four governments of New England. The English catholics, treated with much greater injustice, established that of Maryland; the quakers, that of Pennsylvania. The Portuguese Jews, persecuted by the inquisition, stript of their fortunes, and banished to Brazil, introduced, by their example, some sort of order and industry among the transported felons and strumpets by whom that colony was originally peopled, and taught them the culture of the sugar-cane. Upon all these different occasions, it was not the wisdom and policy, but the disorder and injustice of the European governments, which peopled and cultivated America.
In effectuation some of the most important of these establishments, the different governments of Europe had as little merit as in projecting them. The conquest of Mexico was the project, not of the council of Spain, but of a governor of Cuba; and it was effectuated by the spirit of the bold adventurer to whom it was entrusted, in spite of every thing which that governor, who soon repented of having trusted such a person, could do to thwart it. The conquerors of Chili and Peru, and of almost all the other Spanish settlements upon the continent of America, carried out with them no other public encouragement, but a general permission to make settlements and conquests in the name of the king of Spain. Those adventures were all at the private risk and expense of the adventurers. The government of Spain contributed scarce any thing to any of them. That of England contributed as little towards effectuating the establishment of some of its most important colonies in North America.
When those establishments were effectuated, and had become so considerable as to attract the attention of the mother country, the first regulations which she made with regard to them, had always in view to secure to herself the monopoly of their commerce; to confine their market, and to enlarge her own at their expense, and, consequently, rather to damp and discourage, than to quicken and forward the course of their prosperity. In the different ways in which this monopoly has been exercised, consists one of the most essential differences in the policy of the different European nations with regard to their colonies. The best of them all, that of England, is only somewhat less illiberal and oppressive than that of any of the rest.
In what way, therefore, has the policy of Europe contributed either to the first establishment, or to the present grandeur of the colonies of America? In one way, and in one way only, it has contributed a good deal. Magna virum mater! It bred and formed the men who were capable of achieving such great actions, and of laying the foundation of so great an empire; and there is no other quarter of the world; of which the policy is capable of forming, or has ever actually, and in fact, formed such men. The colonies owe to the policy of Europe the education and great views of their active and enterprizing founders; and some of the greatest and most important of them, so far as concerns their internal government, owe to it scarce anything else.
PART III. Of the Advantages which Europe has derived From the Discovery of America, and from that of a Passage to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope.
Such are the advantages which the colonies of America have derived from the policy of Europe.
What are those which Europe has derived from the discovery and colonization of America?
Those advantages may be divided, first, into the general advantages which Europe, considered as one great country, has derived from those great events; and, secondly, into the particular advantages which each colonizing country has derived from the colonies which particularly belong to it, in consequence of the authority or dominion which it exercises over them.
The general advantages which Europe, considered as one great country, has derived from the discovery and colonization of America, consist, first, in the increase of its enjoyments; and, secondly, in the augmentation of its industry.
The surplus produce of America imported into Europe, furnishes the inhabitants of this great continent with a variety of commodities which they could not otherwise have possessed; some for conveniency and use, some for pleasure, and some for ornament; and thereby contributes to increase their enjoyments.
The discovery and colonization of America, it will readily be allowed, have contributed to augment the industry, first, of all the countries which trade to it directly, such as Spain, Portugal, France, and England; and, secondly, of all those which, without trading to it directly, send, through the medium of other countries, goods to it of their own produce, such as Austrian Flanders, and some provinces of Germany, which, through the medium of the countries before mentioned, send to it a considerable quantity of linen and other goods. All such countries have evidently gained a more extensive market for their surplus produce, and must consequently have been encouraged to increase its quantity.
But that those great events should likewise have contributed to encourage the industry of countries such as Hungary and Poland, which may never, perhaps, have sent a single commodity of their own produce to America, is not, perhaps, altogether so evident. That those events have done so, however, cannot be doubted. Some part of the produce of America is consumed in Hungary and Poland, and there is some demand there for the sugar, chocolate, and tobacco, of that new quarter of the world. But those commodities must be purchased with something which is either the produce of the industry of Hungary and Poland, or with something which had been purchased with some part of that produce. Those commodities of America are new values, new equivalents, introduced into Hungary and Poland, to be exchanged there for the surplus produce of these countries. By being carried thither, they create a new and more extensive market for that surplus produce. They raise its value, and thereby contribute to encourage its increase. Though no part of it may ever be carried to America, it may be carried to other countries, which purchase it with a part of their share of the surplus produce of America, and it may find a market by means of the circulation of that trade which was originally put into motion by the surplus produce of America.
Those great events may even have contributed to increase the enjoyments, and to augment the industry, of countries which not only never sent any commodities to America, but never received any from it. Even such countries may have received a greater abundance of other commodities from countries, of which the surplus produce had been augmented by means of the American trade. This greater abundance, as it must necessarily have increased their enjoyments, so it must likewise have augmented their industry. A greater number of new equivalents, of some kind or other, must have been presented to them to be exchanged for the surplus produce of that industry. A more extensive market must have been created for that surplus produce, so as to raise its value, and thereby encourage its increase. The mass of commodities annually thrown into the great circle of European commerce, and by its various revolutions annually distributed among all the different nations comprehended within it, must have been augmented by the whole surplus produce of America. A greater share of this greater mass, therefore, is likely to have fallen to each of those nations, to have increased their enjoyments, and augmented their industry.
English
The absolute governments of Spain, Portugal, and France, by contrast, prevail in their colonies; and the discretionary powers that such governments commonly delegate to every subordinate officer are naturally exercised there, because of the great distance, with more than ordinary violence. Under all absolute governments, there is more liberty in the capital than anywhere else in the country. The sovereign himself can have neither an interest in nor an inclination to corrupt the administration of justice or oppress the great body of the people. In the capital, his presence overawes his subordinate officers to some degree; in remoter provinces, where the people's complaints are less likely to reach him, they can exercise their tyranny much more safely. But the European colonies in America are farther away than the most distant provinces of any empire previously known. The government of the English colonies is perhaps the only one since the world began that could give complete security to the inhabitants of such a distant province. The French colonies, however, have always been governed with much greater gentleness and moderation than the Spanish and Portuguese. This superiority of conduct accords both with the character of the French nation and with what shapes the character of every nation: the nature of its government, which, though arbitrary and violent compared with that of Great Britain, is lawful and free compared with those of Spain and Portugal.
It is in the progress of the North American colonies, however, that the superiority of English policy chiefly appears. The progress of the French sugar colonies has at least equaled, and perhaps surpassed, that of most English sugar colonies; yet the English sugar colonies enjoy a free government nearly like that of England's colonies in North America. But the French sugar colonies are not discouraged, as the English ones are, from refining their own sugar; and, more importantly still, the character of their government naturally leads to better management of their enslaved Black workers.
In all European colonies, sugarcane is cultivated by enslaved Black people. Those born in Europe's temperate climate are thought unable to endure the labor of digging the ground under the burning West Indian sun; and sugarcane cultivation, as presently practiced, is entirely manual labor, though many believe the drill plow could be introduced to great advantage. But just as the profit and success of cultivation using cattle depend greatly on the good management of those cattle, so the profit and success of cultivation using slaves must equally depend on the good management of those slaves; and it is generally acknowledged, I believe, that French planters manage their slaves better than the English. A law that offers the slave some slight protection against the master's violence is likelier to be enforced in a colony whose government is largely arbitrary than in one whose government is wholly free. Wherever the unfortunate law of slavery is established, a magistrate protecting a slave interferes to some degree in the management of the master's private property. In a free country, where the master may be a member of the colonial assembly or an elector of one, the magistrate dares do so only with the greatest care and circumspection. The deference he must show the master makes it harder for him to protect the slave. But in a country whose government is largely arbitrary, where magistrates commonly interfere even in the management of individuals' private property and may send them a lettre de cachet if they do not manage it to the magistrate's liking, he can more easily give the slave some protection; and common humanity naturally inclines him to do so. A magistrate's protection makes the slave less contemptible in the master's eyes, inducing the master to show greater regard and treat him more gently. Gentle treatment makes the slave not only more faithful but more intelligent, and thus more useful on both counts. His condition approaches that of a free servant, and he may acquire some integrity and attachment to his master's interest—virtues often found in free servants but impossible in a slave treated as slaves commonly are where the master is completely free and secure.
That a slave fares better under an arbitrary government than under a free one is, I believe, supported by the history of every age and nation. In Roman history, the first recorded intervention by a magistrate to protect a slave against his master's violence occurs under the emperors. When Vidius Pollio, in Augustus's presence, ordered a slave who had committed a slight fault cut to pieces and thrown into his fishpond to feed his fish, the indignant emperor commanded him to free at once not only that slave but every other slave he owned. Under the republic, no magistrate could have had enough authority to protect the slave, much less punish the master.
The stock that has improved the French sugar colonies, particularly the great colony of St Domingo, has been raised almost entirely through the gradual improvement and cultivation of those colonies themselves. It has consisted almost wholly of the produce of the colonists' land and industry—or, what amounts to the same thing, the price of that produce—gradually accumulated through good management and employed to raise still more produce. Much of the stock that has improved and cultivated the English sugar colonies, however, was sent from England, and is by no means entirely the produce of the colonists' land and industry. The prosperity of the English sugar colonies has owed much to England's great wealth, some of which has, so to speak, overflowed into these colonies. But the prosperity of the French sugar colonies has been entirely due to the colonists' good management, which must therefore have been superior in some respect to that of the English; nowhere has this superiority been more evident than in their management of their slaves.
Such have been the broad outlines of the policies of the different European nations toward their colonies.
The policy of Europe, then, has very little to boast of either in the original establishment of the American colonies or, as regards their internal government, in their subsequent prosperity.
Folly and injustice seem to have governed and directed the first project of establishing these colonies: the folly of hunting for gold and silver mines, and the injustice of coveting a country whose harmless native inhabitants, far from ever having harmed the people of Europe, welcomed the first adventurers with every sign of kindness and hospitality.
The adventurers who founded some of the later settlements did indeed add more reasonable and praiseworthy motives to the fanciful project of finding gold and silver mines; but even these motives do little credit to European policy.
The English Puritans, restrained at home, fled to America in search of freedom and established the four governments of New England. The English Catholics, treated with much greater injustice, established Maryland; the Quakers, Pennsylvania. Portuguese Jews, persecuted by the Inquisition, stripped of their fortunes, and banished to Brazil, set an example that introduced some measure of order and industry among the transported criminals and prostitutes who originally populated that colony, and taught them to cultivate sugarcane. In all these instances, it was not the wisdom and policy but the disorder and injustice of European governments that peopled and cultivated America.
The various European governments deserve as little credit for carrying out some of the most important of these settlements as for conceiving them. The conquest of Mexico was the project not of the council of Spain but of a governor of Cuba; it was accomplished by the bold adventurer entrusted with it, despite everything the governor—who soon regretted trusting such a man—could do to obstruct him. The conquerors of Chili and Peru, and of almost every other Spanish settlement on the American continent, took with them no public encouragement beyond a general permission to found settlements and make conquests in the name of the king of Spain. All these ventures were undertaken at the adventurers' private risk and expense. The Spanish government contributed almost nothing to any of them. The English government contributed just as little to the establishment of some of its most important colonies in North America.
Once these settlements had been established and grown large enough to attract the mother country's attention, her first regulations concerning them were always intended to secure for herself a monopoly of their commerce: to restrict their market and enlarge her own at their expense, and thus to check and discourage, rather than hasten and promote, their prosperity. One of the most essential differences between European nations' colonial policies lies in the different ways they have exercised this monopoly. The best of them, England's, is only somewhat less restrictive and oppressive than all the others.
In what way, then, has European policy contributed either to the initial establishment or to the present greatness of the American colonies? In one way, and one way alone, it has contributed considerably. Magna virum mater! It bred and formed men capable of such great deeds and of laying the foundations of so great an empire; no other part of the world has a policy capable of forming such men, or has in fact ever formed them. The colonies owe to European policy the education and broad ambitions of their energetic and enterprising founders; and some of the greatest and most important colonies, as far as their internal government is concerned, owe it almost nothing else.
PART III. On the Advantages Europe Has Derived from the Discovery of America and from the Discovery of a Passage to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope.
Such are the advantages the American colonies have derived from European policy.
What advantages has Europe derived from the discovery and colonization of America?
These may be divided, first, into the general advantages that Europe, considered as one great country, has derived from those great events; and second, into the particular advantages each colonizing country has derived from its own colonies through the authority or dominion it exercises over them.
The general advantages that Europe, considered as one great country, has derived from the discovery and colonization of America consist, first, in an increase in what its inhabitants can enjoy and, second, in an expansion of its industry.
America's surplus produce, imported into Europe, provides the inhabitants of that great continent with a variety of commodities they could not otherwise have possessed—some for convenience and use, some for pleasure, and some for ornament—and thus increases what they can enjoy.
The discovery and colonization of America have clearly helped expand the industry, first, of all countries trading with it directly, such as Spain, Portugal, France, and England; and, second, of countries that, without trading with it directly, send it goods of their own production through other countries, such as Austrian Flanders and some provinces of Germany, which send substantial quantities of linen and other goods through the countries just mentioned. All these countries have plainly gained a wider market for their surplus produce and must therefore have been encouraged to increase it.
It may be less obvious that these great events have also encouraged the industry of countries such as Hungary and Poland, which perhaps have never sent America a single commodity of their own production. Yet there can be no doubt that they have. Some American produce is consumed in Hungary and Poland, where there is demand for the sugar, chocolate, and tobacco of that new part of the world. But these commodities must be purchased either with the produce of Hungarian and Polish industry or with something itself purchased with part of that produce. These American commodities are new values, new equivalents, brought into Hungary and Poland to be exchanged for those countries' surplus produce. In being brought there, they create a new and wider market for that surplus, raise its value, and thereby encourage its growth. Though none of it may ever go to America, it may go to other countries that buy it with part of their own share of America's surplus produce; it may find a market through the circulation of a trade originally set in motion by that American surplus.
These great events may even have increased what people enjoy and expanded the industry of countries that have neither sent goods to America nor received goods from it. Even they may have received a greater abundance of other commodities from countries whose surplus produce has grown through American trade. This greater abundance must necessarily have increased what they could enjoy, and must also have expanded their industry. More new equivalents of one kind or another must have become available to exchange for that industry's surplus produce. A wider market must have arisen for that surplus, raising its value and encouraging its growth. The mass of commodities annually poured into the great circuit of European commerce, and distributed each year through its various movements among all the nations within it, must have grown by the whole surplus produce of America. A greater share of this greater mass is therefore likely to have fallen to each nation, increasing what its people could enjoy and expanding its industry.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 7
18th-century English
The exclusive trade of the mother countries tends to diminish, or at least to keep down below what they would otherwise rise to, both the enjoyments and industry of all those nations in general, and of the American colonies in particular. It is a dead weight upon the action of one of the great springs which puts into motion a great part of the business of mankind. By rendering the colony produce dearer in all other countries, it lessens its consumption, and thereby cramps the industry of the colonies, and both the enjoyments and the industry of all other countries, which both enjoy less when they pay more for what they enjoy, and produce less when they get less for what they produce. By rendering the produce of all other countries dearer in the colonies, it cramps in the same manner the industry of all other colonies, and both the enjoyments and the industry of the colonies. It is a clog which, for the supposed benefit of some particular countries, embarrasses the pleasures and encumbers the industry of all other countries, but of the colonies more than of any other. It not only excludes as much as possible all other countries from one particular market, but it confines as much as possible the colonies to one particular market; and the difference is very great between being excluded from one particular market when all others are open, and being confined to one particular market when all others are shut up. The surplus produce of the colonies, however, is the original source of all that increase of enjoyments and industry which Europe derives from the discovery and colonization of America, and the exclusive trade of the mother countries tends to render this source much less abundant than it otherwise would be.
The particular advantages which each colonizing country derives from the colonies which particularly belong to it, are of two different kinds; first, those common advantages which every empire derives from the provinces subject to its dominion; and, secondly, those peculiar advantages which are supposed to result from provinces of so very peculiar a nature as the European colonies of America.
The common advantages which every empire derives from the provinces subject to its dominion consist, first, in the military force which they furnish for its defence; and, secondly, in the revenue which they furnish for the support of its civil government. The Roman colonies furnished occasionally both the one and the other. The Greek colonies sometimes furnished a military force, but seldom any revenue. They seldom acknowledged themselves subject to the dominion of the mother city. They were generally her allies in war, but very seldom her subjects in peace.
The European colonies of America have never yet furnished any military force for the defence of the mother country. The military force has never yet been sufficient for their own defence; and in the different wars in which the mother countries have been engaged, the defence of their colonies has generally occasioned a very considerable distraction of the military force of those countries. In this respect, therefore, all the European colonies have, without exception, been a cause rather of weakness than of strength to their respective mother countries.
The colonies of Spain and Portugal only have contributed any revenue towards the defence of the mother country, or the support of her civil government. The taxes which have been levied upon those of other European nations, upon those of England in particular, have seldom been equal to the expense laid out upon them in time of peace, and never sufficient to defray that which they occasioned in time of war. Such colonies, therefore, have been a source of expense, and not of revenue, to their respective mother countries.
The advantages of such colonies to their respective mother countries, consist altogether in those peculiar advantages which are supposed to result from provinces of so very peculiar a nature as the European colonies of America; and the exclusive trade, it is acknowledged, is the sole source of all those peculiar advantages.
In consequence of this exclusive trade, all that part of the surplus produce of the English colonies, for example, which consists in what are called enumerated commodities, can be sent to no other country but England. Other countries must afterwards buy it of her. It must be cheaper, therefore, in England than it can be in any other country, and must contribute more to increase the enjoyments of England than those of any other country. It must likewise contribute more to encourage her industry. For all those parts of her own surplus produce which England exchanges for those enumerated commodities, she must get a better price than any other countries can get for the like parts of theirs, when they exchange them for the same commodities. The manufactures of England, for example, will purchase a greater quantity of the sugar and tobacco of her own colonies than the like manufactures of other countries can purchase of that sugar and tobacco. So far, therefore, as the manufactures of England and those of other countries are both to be exchanged for the sugar and tobacco of the English colonies, this superiority of price gives an encouragement to the former beyond what the latter can, in these circumstances, enjoy. The exclusive trade of the colonies, therefore, as it diminishes, or at least keeps down below what they would otherwise rise to, both the enjoyments and the industry of the countries which do not possess it, so it gives an evident advantage to the countries which do possess it over those other countries.
This advantage, however, will, perhaps, be found to be rather what may be called a relative than an absolute advantage, and to give a superiority to the country which enjoys it, rather by depressing the industry and produce of other countries, than by raising those of that particular country above what they would naturally rise to in the case of a free trade.
The tobacco of Maryland and Virginia, for example, by means of the monopoly which England enjoys of it, certainly comes cheaper to England than it can do to France to whom England commonly sells a considerable part of it. But had France and all other European countries been at all times allowed a free trade to Maryland and Virginia, the tobacco of those colonies might by this time have come cheaper than it actually does, not only to all those other countries, but likewise to England. The produce of tobacco, in consequence of a market so much more extensive than any which it has hitherto enjoyed, might, and probably would, by this time have been so much increased as to reduce the profits of a tobacco plantation to their natural level with those of a corn plantation, which it is supposed they are still somewhat above. The price of tobacco might, and probably would, by this time have fallen somewhat lower than it is at present. An equal quantity of the commodities, either of England or of those other countries, might have purchased in Maryland and Virginia a greater quantity of tobacco than it can do at present, and consequently have been sold there for so much a better price. So far as that weed, therefore, can, by its cheapness and abundance, increase the enjoyments, or augment the industry, either of England or of any other country, it would probably, in the case of a free trade, have produced both these effects in somewhat a greater degree than it can do at present. England, indeed, would not, in this case, have had any advantage over other countries. She might have bought the tobacco of her colonies somewhat cheaper, and consequently have sold some of her own commodities somewhat dearer, than she actually does; but she could neither have bought the one cheaper, nor sold the other dearer, than any other country might have done. She might, perhaps, have gained an absolute, but she would certainly have lost a relative advantage.
In order, however, to obtain this relative advantage in the colony trade, in order to execute the invidious and malignant project of excluding, as much as possible, other nations from any share in it, England, there are very probable reasons for believing, has not only sacrificed a part of the absolute advantage which she, as well as every other nation, might have derived from that trade, but has subjected herself both to an absolute and to a relative disadvantage in almost every other branch of trade.
When, by the act of navigation, England assumed to herself the monopoly of the colony trade, the foreign capitals which had before been employed in it, were necessarily withdrawn from it. The English capital, which had before carried on but a part of it, was now to carry on the whole. The capital which had before supplied the colonies with but a part of the goods which they wanted from Europe, was now all that was employed to supply them with the whole. But it could not supply them with the whole; and the goods with which it did supply them were necessarily sold very dear. The capital which had before bought but a part of the surplus produce of the colonies, was now all that was employed to buy the whole. But it could not buy the whole at any thing near the old price; and therefore, whatever it did buy, it necessarily bought very cheap. But in an employment of capital, in which the merchant sold very dear, and bought very cheap, the profit must have been very great, and much above the ordinary level of profit in other branches of trade. This superiority of profit in the colony trade could not fail to draw from other branches of trade a part of the capital which had before been employed in them. But this revulsion of capital, as it must have gradually increased the competition of capitals in the colony trade, so it must have gradually diminished that competition in all those other branches of trade; as it must have gradually lowered the profits of the one, so it must have gradually raised those of the other, till the profits of all came to a new level, different from, and somewhat higher, than that at which they had been before.
This double effect of drawing capital from all other trades, and of raising the rate of profit somewhat higher than it otherwise would have been in all trades, was not only produced by this monopoly upon its first establishment, but has continued to be produced by it ever since.
First, This monopoly has been continually drawing capital from all other trades, to be employed in that of the colonies.
Though the wealth of Great Britain has increased very much since the establishment of the act of navigation, it certainly has not increased in the same proportion as that or the colonies. But the foreign trade of every country naturally increases in proportion to its wealth, its surplus produce in proportion to its whole produce; and Great Britain having engrossed to herself almost the whole of what may be called the foreign trade of the colonies, and her capital not having increased in the same proportion as the extent of that trade, she could not carry it on without continually withdrawing from other branches of trade some part of the capital which had before been employed in them, as well as withholding from them a great deal more which would otherwise have gone to them. Since the establishment of the act of navigation, accordingly, the colony trade has been continually increasing, while many other branches of foreign trade, particularly of that to other parts of Europe, have been continually decaying. Our manufactures for foreign sale, instead of being suited, as before the act of navigation, to the neighbouring market of Europe, or to the more distant one of the countries which lie round the Mediterranean sea, have the greater part of them, been accommodated to the still more distant one of the colonies; to the market in which they have the monopoly, rather than to that in which they have many competitors. The causes of decay in other branches of foreign trade, which, by Sir Matthew Decker and other writers, have been sought for in the excess and improper mode of taxation, in the high price of labour, in the increase of luxury, etc. may all be found in the overgrowth of the colony trade. The mercantile capital of Great Britain, though very great, yet not being infinite, and though greatly increased since the act of navigation, yet not being increased in the same proportion as the colony trade, that trade could not possibly be carried on without withdrawing some part of that capital from other branches of trade, nor consequently without some decay of those other branches.
England, it must be observed, was a great trading country, her mercantile capital was very great, and likely to become still greater and greater every day, not only before the act of navigation had established the monopoly of the corn trade, but before that trade was very considerable. In the Dutch war, during the government of Cromwell, her navy was superior to that of Holland; and in that which broke out in the beginning of the reign of Charles II., it was at least equal, perhaps superior to the united navies of France and Holland. Its superiority, perhaps, would scarce appear greater in the present times, at least if the Dutch navy were to bear the same proportion to the Dutch commerce now which it did then. But this great naval power could not, in either of those wars, be owing to the act of navigation. During the first of them, the plan of that act had been but just formed; and though, before the breaking out of the second, it had been fully enacted by legal authority, yet no part of it could have had time to produce any considerable effect, and least of all that part which established the exclusive trade to the colonies. Both the colonies and their trade were inconsiderable then, in comparison of what they are how. The island of Jamaica was an unwholesome desert, little inhabited, and less cultivated. New York and New Jersey were in the possession of the Dutch, the half of St. Christopher’s in that of the French. The island of Antigua, the two Carolinas, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Nova Scotia, were not planted. Virginia, Maryland, and New England were planted; and though they were very thriving colonies, yet there was not perhaps at that time, either in Europe or America, a single person who foresaw, or even suspected, the rapid progress which they have since made in wealth, population, and improvement. The island of Barbadoes, in short, was the only British colony of any consequence, of which the condition at that time bore any resemblance to what it is at present. The trade of the colonies, of which England, even for some time after the act of navigation, enjoyed but a part (for the act of navigation was not very strictly executed till several years after it was enacted), could not at that time be the cause of the great trade of England, nor of the great naval power which was supported by that trade. The trade which at that time supported that great naval power was the trade of Europe, and of the countries which lie round the Mediterranean sea. But the share which Great Britain at present enjoys of that trade could not support any such great naval power. Had the growing trade of the colonies been left free to all nations, whatever share of it might have fallen to Great Britain, and a very considerable share would probably have fallen to her, must have been all an addition to this great trade of which she was before in possession. In consequence of the monopoly, the increase of the colony trade has not so much occasioned an addition to the trade which Great Britain had before, as a total change in its direction.
English
The mother countries' exclusive trade tends to reduce—or at least to hold below the level they would otherwise reach—both what all those nations in general, and the American colonies in particular, can enjoy and the extent of their industry. It is a dead weight upon one of the great springs that sets much of mankind's business in motion. By making colonial produce more expensive in every other country, it reduces consumption and thereby constrains the colonies' industry, as well as both the enjoyment and the industry of other countries: their inhabitants enjoy less when they pay more for what they consume, and produce less when they receive less for what they produce. By making the produce of all other countries more expensive in the colonies, it similarly constrains the industry of all other colonies, and both the enjoyment and the industry of the colonies. It is an impediment that, for the supposed benefit of certain countries, hinders the pleasures and burdens the industry of every other country, but most of all the colonies. It not only excludes other countries as far as possible from one particular market, but confines the colonies as far as possible to one particular market; and there is a vast difference between exclusion from one market when all others are open, and confinement to one when all others are closed. Yet the colonies' surplus produce is the original source of all the increase in enjoyment and industry that Europe derives from the discovery and colonization of America, and the mother countries' exclusive trade tends to make this source much less abundant than it would otherwise be.
The particular advantages each colonizing country derives from its own colonies are of two kinds: first, the ordinary advantages every empire derives from provinces under its dominion; and second, the special advantages supposedly arising from provinces of such a peculiar nature as Europe's American colonies.
The ordinary advantages every empire derives from its subject provinces consist, first, in the military force they supply for its defense and, second, in the revenue they provide to support its civil government. Roman colonies occasionally provided both. Greek colonies sometimes provided military force, but seldom revenue. They rarely acknowledged subjection to the mother city. They were generally her allies in war, but very seldom her subjects in peace.
The European colonies in America have never yet provided military forces to defend their mother countries. Their own military forces have never sufficed even for their own defense; and in the various wars involving their mother countries, the defense of the colonies has generally diverted a considerable portion of those countries' military forces. In this respect, therefore, every European colony without exception has been a source of weakness rather than strength to its mother country.
Only the colonies of Spain and Portugal have contributed any revenue toward the defense of the mother country or the support of its civil government. Taxes levied on the colonies of other European nations, especially England's, have seldom equaled what those nations spent on the colonies in peacetime, and have never sufficed to meet the costs the colonies occasioned in wartime. Such colonies, therefore, have been sources of expense, not revenue, to their mother countries.
The benefits such colonies bring their mother countries thus consist entirely of the special advantages supposed to arise from provinces as peculiar as the European colonies of America; and exclusive trade, it is acknowledged, is the sole source of all these special advantages.
As a result of this exclusive trade, the portion of the English colonies' surplus produce made up of what are called enumerated commodities, for example, can be sent only to England. Other countries must then purchase it from her. It must consequently be cheaper in England than in any other country, and must increase what the English can enjoy more than what any other country's inhabitants can enjoy. It must likewise do more to encourage her industry. For each portion of its own surplus produce that England exchanges for those enumerated commodities, England must receive a better price than other countries receive for comparable portions of theirs in exchange for the same commodities. English manufactures, for example, will purchase more sugar and tobacco from her colonies than comparable manufactures from other countries can purchase of that sugar and tobacco. To the extent, therefore, that English manufactures and those of other countries alike are exchanged for the sugar and tobacco of the English colonies, this superior price encourages the former more than the latter can be encouraged in these circumstances. Thus, while the colonies' exclusive trade reduces, or at least holds down, the enjoyment and industry of countries without it, it gives countries possessing it a clear advantage over the others.
This advantage, however, may prove to be relative rather than absolute: it gives the country enjoying it superiority by depressing the industry and produce of other countries, rather than by raising its own beyond what they would naturally reach under free trade.
Through England's monopoly, for instance, Maryland and Virginia tobacco certainly reaches England more cheaply than it reaches France, to which England usually sells a considerable portion. But if France and every other European country had always been free to trade with Maryland and Virginia, the tobacco of those colonies might by now have become cheaper than it actually is, not merely for the other countries but also for England. With a far wider market than it has ever had, tobacco production might, and probably would, have expanded enough by now to bring the profits of a tobacco plantation down to their natural level alongside those of a corn plantation, above which they are still thought to stand somewhat. Tobacco's price might, and probably would, have fallen somewhat below its present level. An equal quantity of English goods, or of the goods of other countries, might have purchased more tobacco in Maryland and Virginia than it can now, and consequently have sold there for a correspondingly better price. To the extent, then, that the cheapness and abundance of that weed can increase what people enjoy or expand industry in England or elsewhere, free trade would probably have produced both effects to a somewhat greater degree than at present. England, admittedly, would in that case have had no advantage over other countries. She might have bought her colonies' tobacco somewhat more cheaply, and consequently sold some of her own goods somewhat more dearly, than she actually does; but she could neither have bought the one more cheaply nor sold the other more dearly than any other country could. She might perhaps have gained an absolute advantage, but she would certainly have lost a relative one.
To gain this relative advantage in colonial trade, however—to carry out the odious and malicious project of excluding other nations from any share of it as far as possible—England has, there is good reason to believe, not merely sacrificed part of the absolute advantage that she and every other nation might have derived from that trade, but placed herself at both an absolute and a relative disadvantage in almost every other branch of trade.
When England claimed a monopoly of colonial trade under the act of navigation, foreign capitals formerly employed in that trade were necessarily withdrawn. English capital, previously engaged in only part of the trade, now had to carry on all of it. The capital that had supplied the colonies with only some of the goods they wanted from Europe was now the only capital available to supply them all. It could not, however, supply them all; and the goods it did supply were necessarily sold at very high prices. The capital that had previously bought only some of the colonies' surplus produce was now the only capital available to buy it all. But it could not buy all of it at anything like the old price, and therefore necessarily bought whatever it did buy very cheaply. In a use of capital where the merchant sold very dearly and bought very cheaply, profit had to be very great, far above its usual level in other branches of trade. These superior profits from colonial trade inevitably drew into it some capital formerly employed in other branches. But as this movement of capital gradually increased the competition of capitals in colonial trade, it gradually reduced their competition in all those other branches. It lowered the profits of the former while raising those of the latter, until the profits of all settled at a new level, different from and somewhat higher than the old one.
This double effect—drawing capital out of all other trades and raising the rate of profit in every trade somewhat above where it would otherwise have stood—was produced not only when the monopoly was first established but has continued ever since.
First, the monopoly has continually drawn capital from every other trade into colonial trade.
Though Great Britain's wealth has greatly increased since the act of navigation was established, it has certainly not grown as fast as the wealth of the colonies. A country's foreign trade naturally grows in proportion to its wealth, and its surplus produce in proportion to its total produce. Great Britain, having appropriated almost the whole of what may be called the colonies' foreign trade while her capital did not increase as quickly as that trade expanded, could not carry it on without continually withdrawing capital already employed in other branches of trade and withholding from them still more capital that would otherwise have gone to them. Accordingly, since the establishment of the act of navigation, colonial trade has continually grown, while many other branches of foreign trade, particularly trade with other parts of Europe, have continually declined. Instead of being adapted, as they were before the act of navigation, to the neighboring European market or to the more distant countries around the Mediterranean sea, most of our manufactures for export have been adapted to the still more distant colonies—to the market in which they enjoy a monopoly, rather than the market where they face many competitors. The causes of decline in other branches of foreign trade that Sir Matthew Decker and other writers have sought in excessive and poorly designed taxation, high wages, increased luxury, etc., may all be found in the excessive growth of colonial trade. Though Britain's mercantile capital is very large, it is not infinite; and though it has grown considerably since the act of navigation, it has not grown as fast as colonial trade. That trade therefore could not possibly be carried on without drawing some of that capital away from other branches, or consequently without some decline in those branches.
England, it should be observed, was already a great trading country, with abundant and steadily growing mercantile capital, not only before the act of navigation established the monopoly of the corn trade, but before that trade became very considerable. In the Dutch war under Cromwell, her navy was superior to Holland's; and in the war that began early in the reign of Charles II., it was at least equal, perhaps superior, to the combined navies of France and Holland. Its superiority would scarcely seem greater today, at least if the Dutch navy now bore the same relation to Dutch commerce as it did then. But England's great naval power in either war could not have resulted from the act of navigation. When the first war took place, the plan of the act had only just been drawn up; and although it had been fully enacted before the second war broke out, no part of it had had time to produce any substantial effect—least of all the part establishing exclusive colonial trade. Both the colonies and their trade were insignificant then compared with what they are now. Jamaica was an unhealthy wilderness, sparsely inhabited and even less cultivated. New York and New Jersey belonged to the Dutch, and half of St. Christopher's to the French. Antigua, the two Carolinas, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Nova Scotia had not been settled. Virginia, Maryland, and New England had been settled and were thriving colonies; yet perhaps not a single person in Europe or America then foresaw, or even suspected, how rapidly they would grow in wealth, population, and improvement. Barbadoes, in short, was the only British colony of any consequence whose condition then bore any resemblance to its condition today. Even for some time after the act of navigation, England controlled only part of colonial trade, since the act was not strictly enforced until several years after its enactment. That trade could not then have caused England's great trade or the great naval power that trade supported. The commerce sustaining her naval power at that time was with Europe and the countries around the Mediterranean sea. But Britain's present share of that commerce could support no such naval power. Had the growing trade of the colonies been left open to all nations, whatever share Great Britain obtained—and a very considerable share would probably have been hers—would have added to the great trade she already possessed. Instead, because of the monopoly, the increase of colonial trade has brought about not so much an addition to Britain's former trade as a complete change in its direction.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 8
18th-century English
Secondly, This monopoly has necessarily contributed to keep up the rate of profit, in all the different branches of British trade, higher than it naturally would have been, had all nations been allowed a free trade to the British colonies.
The monopoly of the colony trade, as it necessarily drew towards that trade a greater proportion of the capital of Great Britain than what would have gone to it of its own accord, so, by the expulsion of all foreign capitals, it necessarily reduced the whole quantity of capital employed in that trade below what it naturally would have been in the case of a free trade. But, by lessening the competition of capitals in that branch of trade, it necessarily raised the rate of profit in that branch. By lessening, too, the competition of British capitals in all other branches of trade, it necessarily raised the rate of British profit in all those other branches. Whatever may have been, at any particular period since the establishment of the act of navigation, the state or extent of the mercantile capital of Great Britain, the monopoly of the colony trade must, during the continuance of that state, have raised the ordinary rate of British profit higher than it otherwise would have been, both in that and in all the other branches of British trade. If, since the establishment of the act of navigation, the ordinary rate of British profit has fallen considerably, as it certainly has, it must have fallen still lower, had not the monopoly established by that act contributed to keep it up.
But whatever raises, in any country, the ordinary rate of profit higher than it otherwise would be, necessarily subjects that country both to an absolute, and to a relative disadvantage in every branch of trade of which she has not the monopoly.
It subjects her to an absolute disadvantage; because, in such branches of trade, her merchants cannot get this greater profit without selling dearer than they otherwise would do, both the goods of foreign countries which they import into their own, and the goods of their own country which they export to foreign countries. Their own country must both buy dearer and sell dearer; must both buy less, and sell less; must both enjoy less and produce less, than she otherwise would do.
It subjects her to a relative disadvantage; because, in such branches of trade, it sets other countries, which are not subject to the same absolute disadvantage, either more above her or less below her, than they otherwise would be. It enables them both to enjoy more and to produce more, in proportion to what she enjoys and produces. It renders their superiority greater, or their inferiority less, than it otherwise would be. By raising the price of her produce above what it otherwise would be, it enables the merchants of other countries to undersell her in foreign markets, and thereby to justle her out of almost all those branches of trade, of which she has not the monopoly.
Our merchants frequently complain of the high wages of British labour, as the cause of their manufactures being undersold in foreign markets; but they are silent about the high profits of stock. They complain of the extravagant gain of other people; but they say nothing of their own. The high profits of British stock, however, may contribute towards raising the price of British manufactures, in many cases, as much, and in some perhaps more, than the high wages of British labour.
It is in this manner that the capital of Great Britain, one may justly say, has partly been drawn and partly been driven from the greater part of the different branches of trade of which she has not the monopoly; from the trade of Europe, in particular, and from that of the countries which lie round the Mediterranean sea.
It has partly been drawn from those branches of trade, by the attraction of superior profit in the colony trade, in consequence of the continual increase of that trade, and of the continual insufficiency of the capital which had carried it on one year to carry it on the next.
It has partly been driven from them, by the advantage which the high rate of profit established in Great Britain gives to other countries, in all the different branches of trade of which Great Britain has not the monopoly.
As the monopoly of the colony trade has drawn from those other branches a part of the British capital, which would otherwise have been employed in them, so it has forced into them many foreign capitals which would never have gone to them, had they not been expelled from the colony trade. In those other branches of trade, it has diminished the competition of British capitals, and thereby raised the rate of British profit higher than it otherwise would have been. On the contrary, it has increased the competition of foreign capitals, and thereby sunk the rate of foreign profit lower than it otherwise would have been. Both in the one way and in the other, it must evidently have subjected Great Britain to a relative disadvantage in all those other branches of trade.
The colony trade, however, it may perhaps be said, is more advantageous to Great Britain than any other; and the monopoly, by forcing into that trade a greater proportion of the capital of Great Britain than what would otherwise have gone to it, has turned that capital into an employment, more advantageous to the country than any other which it could have found.
The most advantageous employment of any capital to the country to which it belongs, is that which maintains there the greatest quantity of productive labour, and increases the most the annual produce of the land and labour of that country. But the quantity of productive labour which any capital employed in the foreign trade of consumption can maintain, is exactly in proportion, it has been shown in the second book, to the frequency of its returns. A capital of a thousand pounds, for example, employed in a foreign trade of consumption, of which the returns are made regularly once in the year, can keep in constant employment, in the country to which it belongs, a quantity of productive labour, equal to what a thousand pounds can maintain there for a year. If the returns are made twice or thrice in the year, it can keep in constant employment a quantity of productive labour, equal to what two or three thousand pounds can maintain there for a year. A foreign trade of consumption carried on with a neighbouring, is, upon that account, in general, more advantageous than one carried on with a distant country; and, for the same reason, a direct foreign trade of consumption, as it has likewise been shown in the second book, is in general more advantageous than a round-about one.
But the monopoly of the colony trade, so far as it has operated upon the employment of the capital of Great Britain, has, in all cases, forced some part of it from a foreign trade of consumption carried on with a neighbouring, to one carried on with a more distant country, and in many cases from a direct foreign trade of consumption to a round-about one.
First, The monopoly of the colony trade has, in all cases, forced some part of the capital of Great Britain from a foreign trade of consumption carried on with a neighbouring, to one carried on with a more distant country.
It has, in all cases, forced some part of that capital from the trade with Europe, and with the countries which lie round the Mediterranean sea, to that with the more distant regions of America and the West Indies; from which the returns are necessarily less frequent, not only on account of the greater distance, but on account of the peculiar circumstances of those countries. New colonies, it has already been observed, are always understocked. Their capital is always much less than what they could employ with great profit and advantage in the improvement and cultivation of their land. They have a constant demand, therefore, for more capital than they have of their own; and, in order to supply the deficiency of their own, they endeavour to borrow as much as they can of the mother country, to whom they are, therefore, always in debt. The most common way in which the colonies contract this debt, is not by borrowing upon bond of the rich people of the mother country, though they sometimes do this too, but by running as much in arrear to their correspondents, who supply them with goods from Europe, as those correspondents will allow them. Their annual returns frequently do not amount to more than a third, and sometimes not to so great a proportion of what they owe. The whole capital, therefore, which their correspondents advance to them, is seldom returned to Britain in less than three, and sometimes not in less than four or five years. But a British capital of a thousand pounds, for example, which is returned to Great Britain only once in five years, can keep in constant employment only one-fifth part of the British industry which it could maintain, if the whole was returned once in the year; and, instead of the quantity of industry which a thousand pounds could maintain for a year, can keep in constant employment the quantity only which two hundred pounds can maintain for a year. The planter, no doubt, by the high price which he pays for the goods from Europe, by the interest upon the bills which he grants at distant dates, and by the commission upon the renewal of those which he grants at near dates, makes up, and probably more than makes up, all the loss which his correspondent can sustain by this delay. But, though he make up the loss of his correspondent, he cannot make up that of Great Britain. In a trade of which the returns are very distant, the profit of the merchant may be as great or greater than in one in which they are very frequent and near; but the advantage of the country in which he resides, the quantity of productive labour constantly maintained there, the annual produce of the land and labour, must always be much less. That the returns of the trade to America, and still more those of that to the West Indies, are, in general, not only more distant, but more irregular and more uncertain, too, than those of the trade to any part of Europe, or even of the countries which lie round the Mediterranean sea, will readily be allowed, I imagine, by everybody who has any experience of those different branches of trade.
Secondly, The monopoly of the colony trade, has, in many cases, forced some part of the capital of Great Britain from a direct foreign trade of consumption, into a round-about one.
Among the enumerated commodities which can be sent to no other market but Great Britain, there are several of which the quantity exceeds very much the consumption of Great Britain, and of which, a part, therefore, must be exported to other countries. But this cannot be done without forcing some part of the capital of Great Britain into a round-about foreign trade of consumption. Maryland, and Virginia, for example, send annually to Great Britain upwards of ninety-six thousand hogsheads of tobacco, and the consumption of Great Britain is said not to exceed fourteen thousand. Upwards of eighty-two thousand hogsheads, therefore, must be exported to other countries, to France, to Holland, and, to the countries which lie round the Baltic and Mediterranean seas. But that part of the capital of Great Britain which brings those eighty-two thousand hogsheads to Great Britain, which re-exports them from thence to those other countries, and which brings back from those other countries to Great Britain either goods or money in return, is employed in a round-about foreign trade of consumption; and is necessarily forced into this employment, in order to dispose of this great surplus. If we would compute in how many years the whole of this capital is likely to come back to Great Britain, we must add to the distance of the American returns that of the returns from those other countries. If, in the direct foreign trade of consumption which we carry on with America, the whole capital employed frequently does not come back in less than three or four years, the whole capital employed in this round-about one is not likely to come back in less than four or five. If the one can keep in constant employment but a third or a fourth part of the domestic industry which could be maintained by a capital returned once in the year, the other can keep in constant employment but a fourth or a fifth part of that industry. At some of the outports a credit is commonly given to those foreign correspondents to whom they export them tobacco. At the port of London, indeed, it is commonly sold for ready money: the rule is Weigh and pay. At the port of London, therefore, the final returns of the whole round-about trade are more distant than the returns from America, by the time only which the goods may lie unsold in the warehouse; where, however, they may sometimes lie long enough. But, had not the colonies been confined to the market of Great Britain for the sale of their tobacco, very little more of it would probably have come to us than what was necessary for the home consumption. The goods which Great Britain purchases at present for her own consumption with the great surplus of tobacco which she exports to other countries, she would, in this case, probably have purchased with the immediate produce of her own industry, or with some part of her own manufactures. That produce, those manufactures, instead of being almost entirely suited to one great market, as at present, would probably have been fitted to a great number of smaller markets. Instead of one great round-about foreign trade of consumption, Great Britain would probably have carried on a great number of small direct foreign trades of the same kind. On account of the frequency of the returns, a part, and probably but a small part, perhaps not above a third or a fourth of the capital which at present carries on this great round-about trade, might have been sufficient to carry on all those small direct ones; might have kept in constant employment an equal quantity of British industry; and have equally supported the annual produce of the land and labour of Great Britain. All the purposes of this trade being, in this manner, answered by a much smaller capital, there would have been a large spare capital to apply to other purposes; to improve the lands, to increase the manufactures, and to extend the commerce of Great Britain; to come into competition at least with the other British capitals employed in all those different ways, to reduce the rate of profit in them all, and thereby to give to Great Britain, in all of them, a superiority over other countries, still greater than what she at present enjoys.
The monopoly of the colony trade, too, has forced some part of the capital of Great Britain from all foreign trade of consumption to a carrying trade; and, consequently from supporting more or less the industry of Great Britain, to be employed altogether in supporting partly that of the colonies, and partly that of some other countries.
English
Second, this monopoly has necessarily helped keep the rate of profit in every branch of British trade above the level it would naturally have reached had all nations been free to trade with the British colonies.
The monopoly of colonial trade necessarily attracted a greater share of Britain's capital into that trade than would have gone there of its own accord; but by excluding all foreign capital, it also necessarily reduced the total capital employed in it below what it would naturally have been under free trade. By reducing competition among capitals in that trade, it necessarily raised the rate of profit there. By reducing competition among British capitals in every other branch of trade, it necessarily raised the rate of British profit in those branches as well. Whatever the amount or condition of Britain's mercantile capital at any given time since the act of navigation was established, so long as that condition lasted, the monopoly of colonial trade must have raised the ordinary rate of British profit above what it would otherwise have been, both in colonial trade and in every other branch. If the ordinary rate of British profit has fallen considerably since the establishment of the act of navigation, as it certainly has, it would have fallen still further without the monopoly established by that act to hold it up.
But whatever raises a country's ordinary rate of profit above the level it would otherwise reach necessarily places that country at both an absolute and a relative disadvantage in every branch of trade it does not monopolize.
It creates an absolute disadvantage because, in those branches, the country's merchants cannot earn the higher profit without selling both the foreign goods they import and their own country's goods they export at higher prices than they otherwise would. Their country must both buy more dearly and sell more dearly; it must buy less and sell less, enjoy less and produce less than it otherwise would.
It creates a relative disadvantage because, in those branches, it sets other countries that do not suffer the same absolute disadvantage either further above it or not so far below it as they would otherwise be. It enables them to enjoy and produce more in comparison with what it enjoys and produces. It increases their superiority or reduces their inferiority. By raising the price of its produce, it allows merchants from other countries to undersell it in foreign markets and thereby crowd it out of nearly every branch of trade it does not monopolize.
Our merchants often complain that high British wages cause their manufactures to be undersold in foreign markets; but they say nothing about the high profits of stock. They complain of other people's excessive gains, but keep silent about their own. Yet the high profits on British stock may raise the price of British manufactures just as much as high British wages in many cases, and perhaps more in some.
In this way, one may fairly say, Britain's capital has been partly drawn and partly driven out of most branches of trade she does not monopolize: in particular, trade with Europe and the countries around the Mediterranean sea.
It has been drawn away from these branches by the attraction of superior profits in colonial trade, as that trade has continually grown and the capital sufficient to conduct it one year has continually proved insufficient the next.
It has also been driven away by the advantage the high rate of profit prevailing in Britain gives other countries in all branches of trade Britain does not monopolize.
Just as the monopoly of colonial trade has drawn out of those other branches some British capital that would otherwise have been employed there, so it has pushed into them much foreign capital that would never have entered them had it not been excluded from colonial trade. In those other branches, it has reduced competition among British capitals and thus raised the British rate of profit above what it would otherwise have been. Conversely, it has increased competition among foreign capitals and thus lowered the foreign rate of profit below what it would otherwise have been. In both ways it must plainly have placed Great Britain at a relative disadvantage in all those other branches of trade.
It might be said, however, that colonial trade is more advantageous to Great Britain than any other trade, and that by forcing into it more British capital than would otherwise have gone there, the monopoly has directed that capital to a use more beneficial to the country than any other available to it.
The most advantageous use of a country's capital is the one that maintains the largest quantity of productive labor there and most increases the annual produce of its land and labor. But, as shown in the second book, the quantity of productive labor that capital employed in the foreign trade of consumption can maintain is exactly proportional to the frequency of its returns. A capital of a thousand pounds, for instance, employed in a foreign trade of consumption whose returns come in regularly once a year, can keep constantly employed in its home country as much productive labor as a thousand pounds can maintain there for a year. If the returns come in twice or three times a year, it can keep constantly employed as much productive labor as two or three thousand pounds can maintain there for a year. For this reason, a foreign trade of consumption with a neighboring country is generally more advantageous than one with a distant country; and for the same reason, as also shown in the second book, a direct foreign trade of consumption is generally more advantageous than an indirect one.
But wherever the monopoly of colonial trade has influenced the use of Britain's capital, it has forced some of that capital away from a foreign trade of consumption with a neighboring country into one with a more distant country; and in many cases it has forced capital out of a direct foreign trade of consumption into an indirect one.
First, in every case the monopoly of colonial trade has forced some British capital from a foreign trade of consumption with a neighboring country into one with a more distant country.
In every case it has diverted some capital from trade with Europe and the countries around the Mediterranean sea to trade with the more distant regions of America and the West Indies. Returns from the latter must be less frequent not only because of the greater distance but also because of those regions' particular circumstances. New colonies, as already noted, are always short of stock. Their capital is always far less than they could profitably and advantageously employ to improve and cultivate their land. They thus constantly need more capital than they possess; to make good this shortage, they try to borrow as much as possible from the mother country, to which they are consequently always in debt. The colonies most commonly incur this debt not by borrowing against bonds from the wealthy inhabitants of the mother country, though they sometimes do that too, but by falling as far behind in payments to the correspondents who supply them with European goods as those correspondents will permit. Their annual returns often amount to no more than a third of what they owe, and sometimes less. Consequently, all the capital their correspondents advance them seldom returns to Britain in fewer than three years, and sometimes takes four or five. But British capital of a thousand pounds that returns to Great Britain only once every five years can keep constantly employed only one-fifth as much British industry as it could if the whole returned once a year. Instead of keeping employed the quantity of industry a thousand pounds could maintain for a year, it can maintain only the quantity two hundred pounds could maintain for a year. No doubt the planter makes up—and probably more than makes up—any loss his correspondent suffers from this delay, through the high price he pays for European goods, interest on bills payable at distant dates, and commissions on the renewal of bills payable at earlier dates. But although he makes up his correspondent's loss, he cannot make up Great Britain's. In a trade whose returns are very distant, a merchant's profit may be as great as or greater than in a trade whose returns are frequent and prompt; but the benefit to the country where he resides—the quantity of productive labor continually maintained there, and the annual produce of its land and labor—must always be much smaller. Anyone with experience of these branches of trade will readily acknowledge, I imagine, that returns from American trade, and especially from West Indian trade, are generally not only slower but also more irregular and uncertain than those from trade with any part of Europe or even with the countries around the Mediterranean sea.
Second, the monopoly of colonial trade has in many cases forced some British capital out of a direct foreign trade of consumption and into an indirect one.
Among the enumerated commodities that can be sent to no market but Great Britain are several produced in quantities far exceeding Britain's consumption; part of these must therefore be exported to other countries. That cannot be done without forcing some British capital into an indirect foreign trade of consumption. Maryland and Virginia, for example, send Great Britain upwards of ninety-six thousand hogsheads of tobacco a year, while British consumption is said not to exceed fourteen thousand. Upwards of eighty-two thousand hogsheads must therefore be exported to other countries: to France and Holland, and to the countries around the Baltic and Mediterranean seas. The British capital that brings those eighty-two thousand hogsheads to Britain, re-exports them to those other countries, and brings back from them either goods or money in return is employed in an indirect foreign trade of consumption; it is necessarily forced into that use to dispose of this great surplus. To calculate how many years the whole of this capital will likely take to return to Britain, we must add the time taken by returns from those other countries to the time taken by American returns. If the whole capital employed in our direct foreign trade of consumption with America often does not return in fewer than three or four years, the capital employed in this indirect trade is unlikely to return in fewer than four or five. If the former can keep constantly employed only a third or a fourth as much domestic industry as capital returning once a year, the latter can keep employed only a fourth or a fifth as much. At some outports, foreign correspondents receiving the tobacco are commonly granted credit. At the port of London, however, it is commonly sold for immediate payment: the rule is Weigh and pay. Thus at London the final returns of the entire indirect trade are later than the returns from America only by the time the goods remain unsold in the warehouse, though they may sometimes remain there quite a long time. But had the colonies not been restricted to Britain's market for their tobacco, probably little more of it would have come to us than we needed for domestic consumption. The goods Britain now buys for its own consumption with the great surplus of tobacco it exports to other countries would probably instead have been bought with the immediate produce of its own industry or with some of its manufactures. Instead of being adapted almost entirely to one great market, as now, that produce and those manufactures would probably have been suited to many smaller markets. In place of one large indirect foreign trade of consumption, Britain would probably have conducted many small direct foreign trades of the same kind. Because the returns would have been more frequent, a portion—probably only a small portion, perhaps not above a third or a fourth—of the capital now engaged in this large indirect trade might have sufficed for all these small direct trades, kept an equal quantity of British industry constantly employed, and supported the annual produce of Britain's land and labor equally well. With every purpose of this trade thus fulfilled by much less capital, a large amount would have remained available for other purposes: improving land, increasing manufactures, and extending British commerce; or at least competing with the other British capitals employed in these various ways, lowering their rates of profit and thereby giving Great Britain an even greater superiority over other countries in all of them than she currently enjoys.
The monopoly of colonial trade has also forced some British capital out of every foreign trade of consumption and into carrying trade: consequently, instead of supporting British industry to some extent, that capital is employed entirely in supporting partly colonial industry and partly the industry of other countries.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 9
18th-century English
The goods, for example, which are annually purchased with the great surplus of eighty-two thousand hogsheads of tobacco annually re-exported from Great Britain, are not all consumed in Great Britain. Part of them, linen from Germany and Holland, for example, is returned to the colonies for their particular consumption. But that part of the capital of Great Britain which buys the tobacco with which this linen is afterwards bought, is necessarily withdrawn from supporting the industry of Great Britain, to be employed altogether in supporting, partly that of the colonies, and partly that of the particular countries who pay for this tobacco with the produce of their own industry.
The monopoly of the colony trade, besides, by forcing towards it a much greater proportion of the capital of Great Britain than what would naturally have gone to it, seems to have broken altogether that natural balance which would otherwise have taken place among all the different branches of British industry. The industry of Great Britain, instead of being accommodated to a great number of small markets, has been principally suited to one great market. Her commerce, instead of running in a great number of small channels, has been taught to run principally in one great channel. But the whole system of her industry and commerce has thereby been rendered less secure; the whole state of her body politic less healthful than it otherwise would have been. In her present condition, Great Britain resembles one of those unwholesome bodies in which some of the vital parts are overgrown, and which, upon that account, are liable to many dangerous disorders, scarce incident to those in which all the parts are more properly proportioned. A small stop in that great blood-vessel, which has been artificially swelled beyond its natural dimensions, and through which an unnatural proportion of the industry and commerce of the country has been forced to circulate, is very likely to bring on the most dangerous disorders upon the whole body politic. The expectation of a rupture with the colonies, accordingly, has struck the people of Great Britain with more terror than they ever felt for a Spanish armada, or a French invasion. It was this terror, whether well or ill grounded, which rendered the repeal of the stamp act, among the merchants at least, a popular measure. In the total exclusion from the colony market, was it to last only for a few years, the greater part of our merchants used to fancy that they foresaw an entire stop to their trade; the greater part of our master manufacturers, the entire ruin of their business; and the greater part of our workmen, an end of their employment. A rupture with any of our neighbours upon the continent, though likely, too, to occasion some stop or interruption in the employments of some of all these different orders of people, is foreseen, however, without any such general emotion. The blood, of which the circulation is stopt in some of the smaller vessels, easily disgorges itself into the greater, without occasioning any dangerous disorder; but, when it is stopt in any of the greater vessels, convulsions, apoplexy, or death, are the immediate and unavoidable consequences. If but one of those overgrown manufactures, which, by means either of bounties or of the monopoly of the home and colony markets, have been artificially raised up to any unnatural height, finds some small stop or interruption in its employment, it frequently occasions a mutiny and disorder alarming to government, and embarrassing even to the deliberations of the legislature. How great, therefore, would be the disorder and confusion, it was thought, which must necessarily be occasioned by a sudden and entire stop in the employment of so great a proportion of our principal manufacturers?
Some moderate and gradual relaxation of the laws which give to Great Britain the exclusive trade to the colonies, till it is rendered in a great measure free, seems to be the only expedient which can, in all future times, deliver her from this danger; which can enable her, or even force her, to withdraw some part of her capital from this overgrown employment, and to turn it, though with less profit, towards other employments; and which, by gradually diminishing one branch of her industry, and gradually increasing all the rest, can, by degrees, restore all the different branches of it to that natural, healthful, and proper proportion, which perfect liberty necessarily establishes, and which perfect liberty can alone preserve. To open the colony trade all at once to all nations, might not only occasion some transitory inconveniency, but a great permanent loss, to the greater part of those whose industry or capital is at present engaged in it. The sudden loss of the employment, even of the ships which import the eighty-two thousand hogsheads of tobacco, which are over and above the consumption of Great Britain, might alone be felt very sensibly. Such are the unfortunate effects of all the regulations of the mercantile system. They not only introduce very dangerous disorders into the state of the body politic, but disorders which it is often difficult to remedy, without occasioning, for a time at least, still greater disorders. In what manner, therefore, the colony trade ought gradually to be opened; what are the restraints which ought first, and what are those which ought last, to be taken away; or in what manner the natural system of perfect liberty and justice ought gradually to be restored, we must leave to the wisdom of future statesmen and legislators to determine.
Five different events, unforeseen and unthought of, have very fortunately concurred to hinder Great Britain from feeling, so sensibly as it was generally expected she would, the total exclusion which has now taken place for more than a year (from the first of December 1774) from a very important branch of the colony trade, that of the twelve associated provinces of North America. First, those colonies, in preparing themselves for their non-importation agreement, drained Great Britain completely of all the commodities which were fit for their market; secondly, the extra ordinary demand of the Spanish flota has, this year, drained Germany and the north of many commodities, linen in particular, which used to come into competition, even in the British market, with the manufactures of Great Britain; thirdly, the peace between Russia and Turkey has occasioned an extraordinary demand from the Turkey market, which, during the distress of the country, and while a Russian fleet was cruizing in the Archipelago, had been very poorly supplied; fourthly, the demand of the north of Europe for the manufactures of Great Britain has been increasing from year to year, for some time past; and, fifthly, the late partition, and consequential pacification of Poland, by opening the market of that great country, have, this year, added an extraordinary demand from thence to the increasing demand of the north. These events are all, except the fourth, in their nature transitory and accidental; and the exclusion from so important a branch of the colony trade, if unfortunately it should continue much longer, may still occasion some degree of distress. This distress, however, as it will come on gradually, will be felt much less severely than if it had come on all at once; and, in the mean time, the industry and capital of the country may find a new employment and direction, so as to prevent this distress from ever rising to any considerable height.
The monopoly of the colony trade, therefore, so far as it has turned towards that trade a greater proportion of the capital of Great Britain than what would otherwise have gone to it, has in all cases turned it, from a foreign trade of consumption with a neighbouring, into one with a more distant country; in many cases from a direct foreign trade of consumption into a round-about one; and, in some cases, from all foreign trade of consumption into a carrying trade. It has, in all cases, therefore, turned it from a direction in which it would have maintained a greater quantity of productive labour, into one in which it can maintain a much smaller quantity. By suiting, besides, to one particular market only, so great a part of the industry and commerce of Great Britain, it has rendered the whole state of that industry and commerce more precarious and less secure, than if their produce had been accommodated to a greater variety of markets.
We must carefully distinguish between the effects of the colony trade and those of the monopoly of that trade. The former are always and necessarily beneficial; the latter always and necessarily hurtful. But the former are so beneficial, that the colony trade, though subject to a monopoly, and, notwithstanding the hurtful effects of that monopoly, is still, upon the whole, beneficial, and greatly beneficial, though a good deal less so than it otherwise would be.
The effect of the colony trade, in its natural and free state, is to open a great though distant market, for such parts of the produce of British industry as may exceed the demand of the markets nearer home, of those of Europe, and of the countries which lie round the Mediterranean sea. In its natural and free state, the colony trade, without drawing from those markets any part of the produce which had ever been sent to them, encourages Great Britain to increase the surplus continually, by continually presenting new equivalents to be exchanged for it. In its natural and free state, the colony trade tends to increase the quantity of productive labour in Great Britain, but without altering in any respect the direction of that which had been employed there before. In the natural and free state of the colony trade, the competition of all other nations would hinder the rate of profit from rising above the common level, either in the new market, or in the new employment. The new market, without drawing any thing from the old one, would create, if one may say so, a new produce for its own supply; and that new produce would constitute a new capital for carrying on the new employment, which, in the same manner, would draw nothing from the old one.
The monopoly of the colony trade, on the contrary, by excluding the competition of other nations, and thereby raising the rate of profit, both in the new market and in the new employment, draws produce from the old market, and capital from the old employment. To augment our share of the colony trade beyond what it otherwise would be, is the avowed purpose of the monopoly. If our share of that trade were to be no greater with, than it would have been without the monopoly, there could have been no reason for establishing the monopoly. But whatever forces into a branch of trade, of which the returns are slower and more distant than those of the greater part of other trades, a greater proportion of the capital of any country, than what of its own accord would go to that branch, necessarily renders the whole quantity of productive labour annually maintained there, the whole annual produce of the land and labour of that country, less than they otherwise would be. It keeps down the revenue of the inhabitants of that country below what it would naturally rise to, and thereby diminishes their power of accumulation. It not only hinders, at all times, their capital from maintaining so great a quantity of productive labour as it would otherwise maintain, but it hinders it from increasing so fast as it would otherwise increase, and, consequently, from maintaining a still greater quantity of productive labour.
The natural good effects of the colony trade, however, more than counterbalance to Great Britain the bad effects of the monopoly; so that, monopoly and altogether, that trade, even as it is carried on at present, is not only advantageous, but greatly advantageous. The new market and the new employment which are opened by the colony trade, are of much greater extent than that portion of the old market and of the old employment which is lost by the monopoly. The new produce and the new capital which has been created, if one may say so, by the colony trade, maintain in Great Britain a greater quantity of productive labour than what can have been thrown out of employment by the revulsion of capital from other trades of which the returns are more frequent. If the colony trade, however, even as it is carried on at present, is advantageous to Great Britain, it is not by means of the monopoly, but in spite of the monopoly.
It is rather for the manufactured than for the rude produce of Europe, that the colony trade opens a new market. Agriculture is the proper business of all new colonies; a business which the cheapness of land renders more advantageous than any other. They abound, therefore, in the rude produce of land; and instead of importing it from other countries, they have generally a large surplus to export. In new colonies, agriculture either draws hands from all other employments, or keeps them from going to any other employment. There are few hands to spare for the necessary, and none for the ornamental manufactures. The greater part of the manufactures of both kinds they find it cheaper to purchase of other countries than to make for themselves. It is chiefly by encouraging the manufactures of Europe, that the colony trade indirectly encourages its agriculture. The manufacturers of Europe, to whom that trade gives employment, constitute a new market for the produce of the land, and the most advantageous of all markets; the home market for the corn and cattle, for the bread and butcher’s meat of Europe, is thus greatly extended by means of the trade to America.
But that the monopoly of the trade of populous and thriving colonies is not alone sufficient to establish, or even to maintain, manufactures in any country, the examples of Spain and Portugal sufficiently demonstrate. Spain and Portugal were manufacturing countries before they had any considerable colonies. Since they had the richest and most fertile in the world, they have both ceased to be so.
In Spain and Portugal, the bad effects of the monopoly, aggravated by other causes, have, perhaps, nearly overbalanced the natural good effects of the colony trade. These causes seem to be other monopolies of different kinds: the degradation of the value of gold and silver below what it is in most other countries; the exclusion from foreign markets by improper taxes upon exportation, and the narrowing of the home market, by still more improper taxes upon the transportation of goods from one part of the country to another; but above all, that irregular and partial administration of justice which often protects the rich and powerful debtor from the pursuit of his injured creditor, and which makes the industrious part of the nation afraid to prepare goods for the consumption of those haughty and great men, to whom they dare not refuse to sell upon credit, and from whom they are altogether uncertain of repayment.
English
The goods purchased each year, for example, with the great surplus of eighty-two thousand hogsheads of tobacco re-exported each year from Great Britain are not all consumed there. Some of them—linen from Germany and Holland, for instance—are sent back to the colonies for their own consumption. But the portion of British capital that buys the tobacco with which this linen is subsequently bought is necessarily diverted from supporting British industry and used instead to support, in part, the industry of the colonies and, in part, that of the countries that pay for the tobacco with the products of their own industry.
Moreover, by forcing a far greater share of British capital into the colony trade than would naturally have entered it, the monopoly appears to have completely upset the natural balance that would otherwise have developed among the different branches of British industry. Rather than serving a great number of small markets, British industry has been chiefly adapted to one great market. Rather than flowing through many small channels, her commerce has been directed chiefly through one great channel. Her entire system of industry and commerce has thereby become less secure, and the whole body politic less healthy than it would otherwise have been. In her present condition, Great Britain resembles an unhealthy body in which certain vital parts have become overgrown, leaving it vulnerable to dangerous illnesses seldom encountered in bodies whose parts are more properly proportioned. A slight blockage in the great blood vessel artificially swollen beyond its natural size, through which an unnatural share of the country's industry and commerce has been made to circulate, is very likely to produce the gravest disorders throughout the body politic. Accordingly, the prospect of a rupture with the colonies has frightened the British people more than a Spanish armada or a French invasion ever did. It was this fear, whether justified or not, that made repeal of the stamp act popular, at least among merchants. If exclusion from the colonial market lasted even a few years, most of our merchants imagined that their trade would stop entirely; most of our master manufacturers foresaw the complete ruin of their businesses; and most of our workers, the end of their employment. A rupture with any of our neighbors on the continent, though also likely to interrupt some employment among all these groups, is contemplated without any comparable general alarm. Blood whose circulation is stopped in some smaller vessels readily passes into the larger ones without causing a dangerous disorder; but when it is stopped in one of the larger vessels, convulsions, apoplexy, or death follow immediately and inevitably. If only one of those overgrown manufactures, artificially raised to an unnatural height by bounties or by the monopoly of the home and colonial markets, suffers a slight interruption in its employment, the result is often unrest and disorder that alarms the government and hampers even the legislature's deliberations. How great, then, people thought, would be the disorder and confusion necessarily caused by the sudden and complete loss of employment for so large a share of our principal manufacturers?
A moderate, gradual relaxation of the laws giving Great Britain exclusive trade with the colonies, until that trade becomes largely free, seems the only measure that can protect her from this danger in the future. It would enable her, or even compel her, to withdraw some capital from this overgrown employment and direct it, though at a lower profit, toward other employments. By gradually diminishing one branch of her industry while enlarging all the others, it could in time restore to every branch the natural, healthy, and proper proportion that perfect liberty necessarily establishes and that only perfect liberty can preserve. To open the colony trade to all nations at once might cause not only temporary inconvenience but great permanent loss to most of those whose industry or capital is now engaged in it. Even the sudden loss of employment for the ships that import the eighty-two thousand hogsheads of tobacco beyond what Great Britain consumes might be felt keenly. Such are the unfortunate effects of all the regulations of the mercantile system. They introduce not only very dangerous disorders into the body politic but disorders that are often difficult to remedy without causing, for a time at least, still worse ones. How, then, the colony trade should be opened gradually; which restrictions should be removed first and which last; and how the natural system of perfect liberty and justice should gradually be restored—these questions we must leave to the judgment of future statesmen and legislators.
Five unforeseen and unexpected events have fortunately combined to prevent Great Britain from feeling as keenly as was generally expected the total exclusion that has now lasted more than a year (from the first of December 1774) from a very important branch of colonial trade: trade with the twelve associated provinces of North America. First, in preparing for their non-importation agreement, those colonies bought up all the goods in Great Britain suited to their market; secondly, the extraordinary demand from the Spanish flota has this year drawn away from Germany and the north many commodities, linen in particular, that used to compete with British manufactures even in the British market; thirdly, peace between Russia and Turkey has generated an extraordinary demand from the Turkey market, which had been poorly supplied while the country was in distress and a Russian fleet was cruising in the Archipelago; fourthly, northern Europe's demand for British manufactures has been increasing year by year for some time; and, fifthly, the recent partition and resulting pacification of Poland have opened the market of that great country, adding this year an extraordinary demand from there to the growing demand of the north. Except for the fourth, all these events are temporary and accidental by nature; and exclusion from so important a branch of colonial trade, if it unfortunately continues much longer, may still bring a measure of distress. That distress, however, will come gradually and so be felt much less severely than if it had arrived all at once. Meanwhile, the country's industry and capital may find new employment and direction, preventing the distress from ever becoming considerable.
The monopoly of the colony trade, then, insofar as it has drawn into that trade a greater share of British capital than would otherwise have gone there, has in every case diverted capital from a foreign trade of consumption with a neighboring country to one with a more distant country; in many cases, from a direct foreign trade of consumption to a roundabout one; and, in some cases, from all foreign trade of consumption to a carrying trade. In every case, therefore, it has diverted capital from an employment supporting more productive labor to one supporting much less. Furthermore, by fitting so much of British industry and commerce to a single market, it has made the entire condition of both more precarious and less secure than if their products had been suited to a wider variety of markets.
We must distinguish carefully between the effects of colonial trade and those of its monopoly. The former are always and necessarily beneficial; the latter always and necessarily harmful. Yet the former are so beneficial that colonial trade, even under monopoly and despite the harm that monopoly does, remains beneficial on the whole—indeed, greatly beneficial—though much less so than it would otherwise be.
In its natural and free state, colonial trade opens a large, if distant, market for the part of British industry's output that exceeds demand in nearer markets: those of Europe and the countries around the Mediterranean Sea. In its natural and free state, without diverting any products ever sent to those markets, colonial trade encourages Great Britain continually to enlarge its surplus by continually offering new goods in exchange for it. In its natural and free state, colonial trade tends to increase productive labor in Great Britain without changing in any way the direction of labor already employed there. In the natural and free state of colonial trade, competition from all other nations would prevent the rate of profit from rising above its ordinary level, whether in the new market or the new employment. The new market, drawing nothing from the old, would create, so to speak, new products to supply itself; those products would form new capital to sustain the new employment, which likewise would draw nothing from the old.
The monopoly of colonial trade, by contrast, excludes the competition of other nations and thereby raises the rate of profit in both the new market and the new employment, drawing products away from the old market and capital away from the old employment. The monopoly's declared purpose is to increase our share of colonial trade beyond what it would otherwise be. If that share would be no greater with the monopoly than without it, there could be no reason to establish it. But anything that forces into a branch of trade whose returns are slower and more distant than those of most other trades a larger share of a country's capital than would enter it of its own accord necessarily reduces the total productive labor supported there each year, and the annual produce of that country's land and labor, below what they would otherwise be. It holds the inhabitants' revenue below the level to which it would naturally rise and thus reduces their ability to accumulate. Not only does it keep their capital from supporting as much productive labor at any given time as it otherwise would; it also keeps that capital from growing as fast, and thus from supporting a still greater quantity of productive labor.
The natural benefits of colonial trade, however, more than outweigh for Great Britain the harmful effects of the monopoly. Monopoly and all, that trade as presently conducted is not merely advantageous but greatly so. The new market and employment opened by colonial trade are far larger than the portions of the old market and employment lost through the monopoly. The new products and capital created, so to speak, by colonial trade support more productive labor in Great Britain than can have lost employment when capital was diverted from other trades with quicker returns. If colonial trade is advantageous to Great Britain even as presently conducted, however, it is advantageous not because of the monopoly but despite it.
Colonial trade opens a new market for Europe's manufactured products rather than its raw produce. Agriculture is the proper occupation of every new colony: the cheapness of land makes it more advantageous than any other. Colonies consequently abound in the raw produce of the land and, far from needing to import it, generally have a large surplus to export. In new colonies, agriculture either draws workers away from every other employment or prevents them from entering one. Few workers can be spared for necessary manufactures, and none for ornamental ones. The colonists find it cheaper to purchase most manufactures of both kinds from other countries than to make them themselves. Colonial trade chiefly encourages European agriculture indirectly, by encouraging European manufactures. The manufacturers of Europe employed by that trade form a new market for the produce of its land, and the most advantageous market of all: the home market for Europe's grain and cattle, bread and butcher's meat, is thus greatly enlarged by trade with America.
That the monopoly of trade with populous and prosperous colonies cannot by itself establish, or even sustain, a country's manufactures is amply shown by Spain and Portugal. Both were manufacturing countries before they acquired substantial colonies. Since acquiring the richest and most fertile colonies in the world, both have ceased to be so.
In Spain and Portugal, the harmful effects of the monopoly, intensified by other causes, have perhaps nearly canceled the natural benefits of colonial trade. These causes appear to include other monopolies of different kinds; the lowering of the value of gold and silver below their value in most other countries; exclusion from foreign markets through ill-judged export taxes, and the narrowing of the home market by still more ill-judged taxes on the movement of goods from one part of the country to another. Above all, they include an irregular and partial administration of justice that often shields the rich and powerful debtor from his injured creditor, making industrious people afraid to prepare goods for the consumption of proud and powerful men to whom they dare not refuse credit and from whom repayment is altogether uncertain.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 10
18th-century English
In England, on the contrary, the natural good effects of the colony trade, assisted by other causes, have in a great measure conquered the bad effects of the monopoly. These causes seem to be, the general liberty of trade, which, notwithstanding some restraints, is at least equal, perhaps superior, to what it is in any other country; the liberty of exporting, duty free, almost all sorts of goods which are the produce of domestic industry, to almost any foreign country; and what, perhaps, is of still greater importance, the unbounded liberty of transporting them from one part of our own country to any other, without being obliged to give any account to any public office, without being liable to question or examination of any kind; but, above all, that equal and impartial administration of justice, which renders the rights of the meanest British subject respectable to the greatest, and which, by securing to every man the fruits of his own industry, gives the greatest and most effectual encouragement to every sort of industry.
If the manufactures of Great Britain, however, have been advanced, as they certainly have, by the colony trade, it has not been by means of the monopoly of that trade, but in spite of the monopoly. The effect of the monopoly has been, not to augment the quantity, but to alter the quality and shape of a part of the manufactures of Great Britain, and to accommodate to a market, from which the returns are slow and distant, what would otherwise have been accommodated to one from which the returns are frequent and near. Its effect has consequently been, to turn a part of the capital of Great Britain from an employment in which it would have maintained a greater quantity of manufacturing industry, to one in which it maintains a much smaller, and thereby to diminish, instead of increasing, the whole quantity of manufacturing industry maintained in Great Britain.
The monopoly of the colony trade, therefore, like all the other mean and malignant expedients of the mercantile system, depresses the industry of all other countries, but chiefly that of the colonies, without in the least increasing, but on the contrary diminishing, that of the country in whose favour it is established.
The monopoly hinders the capital of that country, whatever may, at any particular time, be the extent of that capital, from maintaining so great a quantity of productive labour as it would otherwise maintain, and from affording so great a revenue to the industrious inhabitants as it would otherwise afford. But as capital can be increased only by savings from revenue, the monopoly, by hindering it from affording so great a revenue as it would otherwise afford, necessarily hinders it from increasing so fast as it would otherwise increase, and consequently from maintaining a still greater quantity of productive labour, and affording a still greater revenue to the industrious inhabitants of that country. One great original source of revenue, therefore, the wages of labour, the monopoly must necessarily have rendered, at all times, less abundant than it otherwise would have been.
By raising the rate of mercantile profit, the monopoly discourages the improvement of land. The profit of improvement depends upon the difference between what the land actually produces, and what, by the application of a certain capital, it can be made to produce. If this difference affords a greater profit than what can be drawn from an equal capital in any mercantile employment, the improvement of land will draw capital from all mercantile employments. If the profit is less, mercantile employments will draw capital from the improvement of land. Whatever, therefore, raises the rate of mercantile profit, either lessens the superiority, or increases the inferiority of the profit of improvement: and, in the one case, hinders capital from going to improvement, and in the other draws capital from it; but by discouraging improvement, the monopoly necessarily retards the natural increase of another great original source of revenue, the rent of land. By raising the rate of profit, too, the monopoly necessarily keeps up the market rate of interest higher than it otherwise would be. But the price of land, in proportion to the rent which it affords, the number of years purchase which is commonly paid for it, necessarily falls as the rate of interest rises, and rises as the rate of interest falls. The monopoly, therefore, hurts the interest of the landlord two different ways, by retarding the natural increase, first, of his rent, and, secondly, of the price which he would get for his land, in proportion to the rent which it affords.
The monopoly, indeed, raises the rate of mercantile profit and thereby augments somewhat the gain of our merchants. But as it obstructs the natural increase of capital, it tends rather to diminish than to increase the sum total of the revenue which the inhabitants of the country derive from the profits of stock; a small profit upon a great capital generally affording a greater revenue than a great profit upon a small one. The monopoly raises the rate of profit, but it hinders the sum of profit from rising so high as it otherwise would do.
All the original sources of revenue, the wages of labour, the rent of land, and the profits of stock, the monopoly renders much less abundant than they otherwise would be. To promote the little interest of one little order of men in one country, it hurts the interest of all other orders of men in that country, and of all the men in all other countries.
It is solely by raising the ordinary rate of profit, that the monopoly either has proved, or could prove, advantageous to any one particular order of men. But besides all the bad effects to the country in general, which have already been mentioned as necessarily resulting from a higher rate of profit, there is one more fatal, perhaps, than all these put together, but which, if we may judge from experience, is inseparably connected with it. The high rate of profit seems everywhere to destroy that parsimony which, in other circumstances, is natural to the character of the merchant. When profits are high, that sober virtue seems to be superfluous, and expensive luxury to suit better the affluence of his situation. But the owners of the great mercantile capitals are necessarily the leaders and conductors of the whole industry of every nation; and their example has a much greater influence upon the manners of the whole industrious part of it than that of any other order of men. If his employer is attentive and parsimonious, the workman is very likely to be so too; but if the master is dissolute and disorderly, the servant, who shapes his work according to the pattern which his master prescribes to him, will shape his life, too, according to the example which he sets him. Accumulation is thus prevented in the hands of all those who are naturally the most disposed to accumulate; and the funds destined for the maintenance of productive labour, receive no augmentation from the revenue of those who ought naturally to augment them the most. The capital of the country, instead of increasing, gradually dwindles away, and the quantity of productive labour maintained in it grows every day less and less. Have the exorbitant profits of the merchants of Cadiz and Lisbon augmented the capital of Spain and Portugal? Have they alleviated the poverty, have they promoted the industry, of those two beggarly countries? Such has been the tone of mercantile expense in those two trading cities, that those exorbitant profits, far from augmenting the general capital of the country, seem scarce to have been sufficient to keep up the capitals upon which they were made. Foreign capitals are every day intruding themselves, if I may say so, more and more into the trade of Cadiz and Lisbon. It is to expel those foreign capitals from a trade which their own grows every day more and more insufficient for carrying on, that the Spaniards and Portuguese endeavour every day to straiten more and more the galling bands of their absurd monopoly. Compare the mercantile manners of Cadiz and Lisbon with those of Amsterdam, and you will be sensible how differently the conduct and character of merchants are affected by the high and by the low profits of stock. The merchants of London, indeed, have not yet generally become such magnificent lords as those of Cadiz and Lisbon; but neither are they in general such attetitive and parsimonious burghers as those of Amsterdam. They are supposed, however, many of them, to be a good deal richer than the greater part of the former, and not quire so rich as many of the latter: but the rate of their profit is commonly much lower than that of the former, and a good deal higher than that of the latter. Light come, light go, says the proverb; and the ordinary tone of expense seems everywhere to be regulated, not so much according to the real ability of spending, as to the supposed facility of getting money to spend.
It is thus that the single advantage which the monopoly procures to a single order of men, is in many different ways hurtful to the general interest of the country.
To found a great empire for the sole purpose of raising up a people of customers, may at first sight, appear a project fit only for a nation of shopkeepers. It is, however, a project altogether unfit for a nation of shopkeepers, but extremely fit for a nation whose government is influenced by shopkeepers. Such statesmen, and such statesmen only, are capable of fancying that they will find some advantage in employing the blood and treasure of their fellow-citizens, to found and maintain such an empire. Say to a shopkeeper, Buy me a good estate, and I shall always buy my clothes at your shop, even though I should pay somewhat dearer than what I can have them for at other shops; and you will not find him very forward to embrace your proposal. But should any other person buy you such an estate, the shopkeeper will be much obliged to your benefactor if he would enjoin you to buy all your clothes at his shop. England purchased for some of her subjects, who found themselves uneasy at home, a great estate in a distant country. The price, indeed, was very small, and instead of thirty years purchase, the ordinary price of land in the present times, it amounted to little more than the expense of the different equipments which made the first discovery, reconnoitered the coast, and took a fictitious possession of the country. The land was good, and of great extent; and the cultivators having plenty of good ground to work upon, and being for some time at liberty to sell their produce where they pleased, became, in the course of little more than thirty or forty years (between 1620 and 1660), so numerous and thriving a people, that the shopkeepers and other traders of England wished to secure to themselves the monopoly of their custom. Without pretending, therefore, that they had paid any part, either of the original purchase money, or of the subsequent expense of improvement, they petitioned the parliament, that the cultivators of America might for the future be confined to their shop; first, for buying all the goods which they wanted from Europe; and, secondly, for selling all such parts of their own produce as those traders might find it convenient to buy. For they did not find it convenient to buy every part of it. Some parts of it imported into England, might have interfered with some of the trades which they themselves carried on at home. Those particular parts of it, therefore, they were willing that the colonists should sell where they could; the farther off the better; and upon that account proposed that their market should be confined to the countries south of Cape Finisterre. A clause in the famous act of navigation established this truly shopkeeper proposal into a law.
The maintenance of this monopoly has hitherto been the principal, or more properly, perhaps, the sole end and purpose of the dominion which Great Britain assumes over her colonies. In the exclusive trade, it is supposed, consists the great advantage of provinces, which have never yet afforded either revenue or military force for the support of the civil government, or the defence of the mother country. The monopoly is the principal badge of their dependency, and it is the sole fruit which has hitherto been gathered from that dependency. Whatever expense Great Britain has hitherto laid out in maintaining this dependency, has really been laid out in order to support this monopoly. The expense of the ordinary peace establishment of the colonies amounted, before the commencement of the present disturbances to the pay of twenty regiments of foot; to the expense of the artillery, stores, and extraordinary provisions, with which it was necessary to supply them; and to the expense of a very considerable naval force, which was constantly kept up, in order to guard from the smuggling vessels of other nations, the immense coast of North America, and that of our West Indian islands. The whole expense of this peace establishment was a charge upon the revenue of Great Britain, and was, at the same time, the smallest part of what the dominion of the colonies has cost the mother country. If we would know the amount of the whole, we must add to the annual expense of this peace establishment, the interest of the sums which, in consequence of their considering her colonies as provinces subject to her dominion, Great Britain has, upon different occasions, laid out upon their defence. We must add to it, in particular, the whole expense of the late war, and a great part of that of the war which preceded it. The late war was altogether a colony quarrel; and the whole expense of it, in whatever part of the world it might have been laid out, whether in Germany or the East Indies, ought justly to be stated to the account of the colonies. It amounted to more than ninety millions sterling, including not only the new debt which was contracted, but the two shillings in the pound additional land tax, and the sums which were every year borrowed from the sinking fund. The Spanish war which began in 1739 was principally a colony quarrel. Its principal object was to prevent the search of the colony ships, which carried on a contraband trade with the Spanish Main. This whole expense is, in reality, a bounty which has been given in order to support a monopoly. The pretended purpose of it was to encourage the manufactures, and to increase the commerce of Great Britain. But its real effect has been to raise the rate of mercantile profit, and to enable our merchants to turn into a branch of trade, of which the returns are more slow and distant than those of the greater part of other trades, a greater proportion of their capital than they otherwise would have done; two events which, if a bounty could have prevented, it might perhaps have been very well worth while to give such a bounty.
Under the present system of management, therefore, Great Britain derives nothing but loss from the dominion which she assumes over her colonies.
English
In England, by contrast, the natural benefits of colonial trade, assisted by other causes, have largely overcome the harmful effects of the monopoly. These causes appear to be the general freedom of trade, which, despite some restrictions, is at least as great as, and perhaps greater than, in any other country; the freedom to export, without duty, almost every kind of domestically produced good to almost any foreign country; and, perhaps more important still, the unlimited freedom to transport such goods from one part of our own country to another, without reporting to any public office or facing questioning or inspection of any kind. Above all, they include an equal and impartial administration of justice that makes the rights of the humblest British subject respected by the greatest and, by securing to everyone the fruits of his own industry, provides the strongest and most effective encouragement to every kind of industry.
Although colonial trade has certainly advanced the manufactures of Great Britain, it has done so not through the monopoly but despite it. The monopoly's effect has been not to increase the quantity of British manufactures, but to change the kind and form of some of them, adapting to a market whose returns are slow and distant what would otherwise have been adapted to one whose returns are frequent and near. It has consequently diverted some British capital from an employment that would have supported more manufacturing industry to one that supports much less, thereby diminishing, rather than increasing, the total manufacturing industry supported in Great Britain.
Thus the monopoly of colonial trade, like all the other petty and malicious devices of the mercantile system, depresses the industry of every other country, especially that of the colonies, while doing nothing to increase—and actually diminishing—the industry of the country it is designed to favor.
Whatever the size of that country's capital at any particular time, the monopoly prevents it from supporting as much productive labor, and providing as much revenue to its industrious inhabitants, as it otherwise would. Since capital can grow only through savings from revenue, by reducing the revenue it provides, the monopoly necessarily prevents capital from growing as fast as it otherwise would, and hence from supporting a still greater quantity of productive labor and providing still more revenue to those inhabitants. Thus the monopoly must always have made one great original source of revenue, the wages of labor, less abundant than it would otherwise have been.
By raising the rate of mercantile profit, the monopoly discourages improvements to land. The profit from improvement depends on the difference between what land actually produces and what it can be made to produce through the investment of a given capital. If this difference yields more profit than an equal capital could earn in any mercantile employment, land improvement will attract capital away from all such employments. If it yields less, mercantile employments will draw capital away from land improvement. Anything that raises the rate of mercantile profit therefore either diminishes the advantage or deepens the disadvantage of the profit from improvement: in the first case it prevents capital from going into improvement, and in the second it draws capital out of it. By discouraging improvement, the monopoly necessarily slows the natural growth of another great original source of revenue, the rent of land. By raising the rate of profit, moreover, it necessarily holds the market rate of interest higher than it otherwise would be. But the price of land relative to the rent it yields—the number of years' purchase commonly paid for it—necessarily falls as interest rises and rises as interest falls. The monopoly therefore injures the landlord's interest in two ways: by slowing the natural increase first of his rent and then of the price he could obtain for his land relative to the rent it yields.
The monopoly does raise the rate of mercantile profit and so increases our merchants' gains somewhat. But because it obstructs the natural growth of capital, it tends to reduce rather than increase the total revenue that the country's inhabitants derive from the profits of stock: a small profit on a large capital generally yields more revenue than a large profit on a small capital. The monopoly raises the rate of profit but keeps the total sum of profit from rising as high as it otherwise would.
The monopoly makes all the original sources of revenue—the wages of labor, the rent of land, and the profits of stock—much less abundant than they would otherwise be. To advance the small interest of one small group of men in one country, it harms the interests of every other group there and of everyone in every other country.
Only by raising the ordinary rate of profit has the monopoly proved, or could it prove, advantageous to any particular group. Beyond all the harmful effects on the country at large already described as necessary consequences of a higher rate of profit, there is one more destructive, perhaps, than all the others combined and, if experience is any guide, inseparable from it. A high rate of profit seems everywhere to extinguish the frugality otherwise natural to the merchant's character. When profits are high, that sober virtue appears unnecessary, and costly luxury better suited to his wealth. Yet owners of great mercantile capitals necessarily lead and direct the industry of every nation, and their example influences the habits of its industrious people far more than that of any other group. If an employer is careful and frugal, his worker is likely to be so as well; but if the master is dissolute and disorderly, the servant who works according to the pattern his master sets will model his life on his master's example too. Accumulation is thus prevented among precisely those who are naturally most inclined to accumulate, and the funds intended to support productive labor receive no addition from the revenues of those best placed to increase them. Instead of growing, the country's capital gradually dwindles, and the productive labor it supports decreases day by day. Have the exorbitant profits of the merchants of Cadiz and Lisbon increased the capital of Spain and Portugal? Have they relieved the poverty or encouraged the industry of those two impoverished countries? Merchants in those two cities have spent so lavishly that their exorbitant profits seem barely to have sufficed to maintain even the capitals that earned them, let alone increase the country's capital as a whole. Foreign capitals are entering the trade of Cadiz and Lisbon more and more every day, if I may put it that way. To drive foreign capital out of a trade for which their own capital grows more insufficient every day, the Spaniards and Portuguese try every day to tighten the galling bonds of their absurd monopoly still further. Compare the commercial habits of Cadiz and Lisbon with those of Amsterdam, and you will see how differently high and low profits of stock affect merchants' conduct and character. London's merchants, to be sure, have not generally become such magnificent lords as those of Cadiz and Lisbon; neither, however, are they usually such careful and frugal citizens as those of Amsterdam. Many of them are thought to be considerably richer than most of the former, and not quite so rich as many of the latter; but their rate of profit is commonly much lower than that of the former and considerably higher than that of the latter. Easy come, easy go, as the proverb says; and the ordinary standard of spending everywhere seems governed less by people's actual ability to spend than by how easily they think they can get money to spend.
Thus the single advantage the monopoly gives one group of men harms the general interest of the country in many different ways.
To found a great empire solely to create a nation of customers might at first seem a scheme fit only for a nation of shopkeepers. Yet it is wholly unsuitable for a nation of shopkeepers, but perfectly suited to a nation whose government is influenced by shopkeepers. Only statesmen of that kind could imagine any advantage in spending their fellow citizens' blood and treasure to found and maintain such an empire. Tell a shopkeeper, "Buy me a good estate, and I shall always buy my clothes at your shop, even if I have to pay somewhat more than they cost elsewhere," and you will find him in no hurry to accept. But if someone else buys you such an estate, the shopkeeper will be deeply grateful to that benefactor if he orders you to buy all your clothes at his shop. England bought a great estate in a distant country for some of her subjects who were uneasy at home. The price was very small: instead of thirty years' purchase, the usual price of land today, it was little more than the cost of the successive expeditions that first discovered the country, surveyed the coast, and took fictitious possession of it. The land was good and extensive. Its cultivators had plenty of fertile ground to work and were for a time free to sell their produce wherever they pleased. In little more than thirty or forty years (between 1620 and 1660), they became so numerous and prosperous that England's shopkeepers and other traders wished to monopolize their custom. Without claiming to have paid any part of the original purchase price or the subsequent cost of improvement, they petitioned parliament to confine America's cultivators to their shop from then on: first, to buy all the European goods they needed there; and second, to sell there all the parts of their own produce that those traders found it convenient to buy. They did not find it convenient to buy all of it. Some products, if imported into England, might interfere with their own trades at home. They were willing, therefore, to let the colonists sell those particular products wherever they could—the farther away, the better—and accordingly proposed limiting their market to countries south of Cape Finisterre. A clause of the famous act of navigation made this truly shopkeeper's proposal law.
Maintaining this monopoly has so far been the chief—or, perhaps more accurately, the sole—purpose of Great Britain's dominion over her colonies. The supposed great advantage of these provinces, which have never yet provided either revenue or military force to support the civil government or defend the mother country, lies in their exclusive trade. The monopoly is the principal mark of their dependence and the only fruit so far harvested from it. Whatever Great Britain has spent to maintain that dependence has really been spent to sustain the monopoly. Before the present disturbances began, the ordinary peacetime establishment of the colonies cost the pay of twenty regiments of foot; the cost of artillery, stores, and extraordinary provisions needed to supply them; and the cost of a substantial naval force kept constantly on duty to guard the immense coast of North America and our West Indian islands against the smuggling ships of other nations. The entire cost of this peacetime establishment was charged to the revenue of Great Britain, yet was the smallest part of what dominion over the colonies has cost the mother country. To find the full amount, we must add to its annual cost the interest on the sums Great Britain has spent at various times defending the colonies because she considers them provinces under her dominion. In particular, we must add the entire cost of the late war and much of the cost of the war before it. The late war arose entirely from a colonial quarrel; its entire cost, wherever in the world it was incurred, in Germany or the East Indies, should rightly be charged to the colonies. It exceeded ninety millions sterling, including not only the new debt contracted but the additional land tax of two shillings in the pound and the sums borrowed each year from the sinking fund. The Spanish war that began in 1739 was chiefly a colonial quarrel. Its principal object was to prevent searches of colonial ships engaged in contraband trade with the Spanish Main. All this expenditure was in reality a bounty paid to sustain a monopoly. Its professed purpose was to encourage manufactures and increase British commerce. Its actual effect has been to raise the rate of mercantile profit and enable our merchants to direct more of their capital than they otherwise would into a branch of trade with slower and more distant returns than most others. If a bounty could have prevented those two effects, it might well have been worth paying.
Under the present system of management, then, Great Britain gains nothing but loss from the dominion she exercises over her colonies.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 11
18th-century English
To propose that Great Britain should voluntarily give up all authority over her colonies, and leave them to elect their own magistrates, to enact their own laws, and to make peace and war, as they might think proper, would be to propose such a measure as never was, and never will be, adopted by any nation in the world. No nation ever voluntarily gave up the dominion of any province, how troublesome soever it might be to govern it, and how small soever the revenue which it afforded might be in proportion to the expense which it occasioned. Such sacrifices, though they might frequently be agreeable to the interest, are always mortifying to the pride of every nation; and, what is perhaps of still greater consequence, they are always contrary to the private interest of the governing part of it, who would thereby be deprived of the disposal of many places of trust and profit, of many opportunities of acquiring wealth and distinction, which the possession of the most turbulent, and, to the great body of the people, the most unprofitable province, seldom fails to afford. The most visionary enthusiasts would scarce be capable of proposing such a measure, with any serious hopes at least of its ever being adopted. If it was adopted, however, Great Britain would not only be immediately freed from the whole annual expense of the peace establishment of the colonies, but might settle with them such a treaty of commerce as would effectually secure to her a free trade, more advantageous to the great body of the people, though less so to the merchants, than the monopoly which she at present enjoys. By thus parting good friends, the natural affection of the colonies to the mother country, which, perhaps, our late dissensions have well nigh extinguished, would quickly revive. It might dispose them not only to respect, for whole centuries together, that treaty of commerce which they had concluded with us at parting, but to favour us in war as well as in trade, and instead of turbulent and factious subjects, to become our most faithful, affectionate, and generous allies; and the same sort of parental affection on the one side, and filial respect on the other, might revive between Great Britain and her colonies, which used to subsist between those of ancient Greece and the mother city from which they descended.
In order to render any province advantageous to the empire to which it belongs, it ought to afford, in time of peace, a revenue to the public, sufficient not only for defraying the whole expense of its own peace establishment, but for contributing its proportion to the support of the general government of the empire. Every province necessarily contributes, more or less, to increase the expense of that general government. If any particular province, therefore, does not contribute its share towards defraying this expense, an unequal burden must be thrown upon some other part of the empire. The extraordinary revenue, too, which every province affords to the public in time of war, ought, from parity of reason, to bear the same proportion to the extraordinary revenue of the whole empire, which its ordinary revenue does in time of peace. That neither the ordinary nor extraordinary revenue which Great Britain derives from her colonies, bears this proportion to the whole revenue of the British empire, will readily be allowed. The monopoly, it has been supposed, indeed, by increasing the private revenue of the people of Great Britain, and thereby enabling them to pay greater taxes, compensates the deficiency of the public revenue of the colonies. But this monopoly, I have endeavoured to show, though a very grievous tax upon the colonies, and though it may increase the revenue of a particular order of men in Great Britain, diminishes, instead of increasing, that of the great body of the people, and consequently diminishes, instead of increasing, the ability of the great body of the people to pay taxes. The men, too, whose revenue the monopoly increases, constitute a particular order, which it is both absolutely impossible to tax beyond the proportion of other orders, and extremely impolitic even to attempt to tax beyond that proportion, as I shall endeavour to show in the following book. No particular resource, therefore, can be drawn from this particular order.
The colonies may be taxed either by their own assemblies, or by the parliament of Great Britain.
That the colony assemblies can never be so managed as to levy upon their constituents a public revenue, sufficient, not only to maintain at all times their own civil and military establishment, but to pay their proper proportion of the expense of the general government of the British empire, seems not very probable. It was a long time before even the parliament of England, though placed immediately under the eye of the sovereign, could be brought under such a system of management, or could be rendered sufficiently liberal in their grants for supporting the civil and military establishments even of their own country. It was only by distributing among the particular members of parliament a great part either of the offices, or of the disposal of the offices arising from this civil and military establishment, that such a system of management could be established, even with regard to the parliament of England. But the distance of the colony assemblies from the eye of the sovereign, their number, their dispersed situation, and their various constitutions, would render it very difficult to manage them in the same manner, even though the sovereign had the same means of doing it; and those means are wanting. It would be absolutely impossible to distribute among all the leading members of all the colony assemblies such a share, either of the offices, or of the disposal of the offices, arising from the general government of the British empire, as to dispose them to give up their popularity at home, and to tax their constituents for the support of that general government, of which almost the whole emoluments were to be divided among people who were strangers to them. The unavoidable ignorance of administration, besides, concerning the relative importance of the different members of those different assemblies, the offences which must frequently be given, the blunders which must constantly be committed, in attempting to manage them in this manner, seems to render such a system of management altogether impracticable with regard to them.
The colony assemblies, besides, cannot be supposed the proper judges of what is necessary for the defence and support of the whole empire. The care of that defence and support is not entrusted to them. It is not their business, and they have no regular means of information concerning it. The assembly of a province, like the vestry of a parish, may judge very properly concerning the affairs of its own particular district, but can have no proper means of judging concerning those of the whole empire. It cannot even judge properly concerning the proportion which its own province bears to the whole empire, or concerning the relative degree of its wealth and importance, compared with the other provinces; because those other provinces are not under the inspection and superintendency of the assembly of a particular province. What is necessary for the defence and support of the whole empire, and in what proportion each part ought to contribute, can be judged of only by that assembly which inspects and super-intends the affairs of the whole empire.
It has been proposed, accordingly, that the colonies should be taxed by requisition, the parliament of Great Britain determining the sum which each colony ought to pay, and the provincial assembly assessing and levying it in the way that suited best the circumstances of the province. What concerned the whole empire would in this way be determined by the assembly which inspects and superintends the affairs of the whole empire; and the provincial affairs of each colony might still be regulated by its own assembly. Though the colonies should, in this case, have no representatives in the British parliament, yet, if we may judge by experience, there is no probability that the parliamentary requisition would be unreasonable. The parliament of England has not, upon any occasion, shewn the smallest disposition to overburden those parts of the empire which are not represented in parliament. The islands of Guernsey and Jersey, without any means of resisting the authority of parliament, are more lightly taxed than any part of Great Britain. Parliament, in attempting to exercise its supposed right, whether well or ill grounded, of taxing the colonies, has never hitherto demanded of them anything which even approached to a just proportion to what was paid by their fellow subjects at home. If the contribution of the colonies, besides, was to rise or fall in proportion to the rise or fall of the land-tax, parliament could not tax them without taxing, at the same time, its own constituents, and the colonies might, in this case, be considered as virtually represented in parliament.
Examples are not wanting of empires in which all the different provinces are not taxed, if I may be allowed the expression, in one mass; but in which the sovereign regulates the sum which each province ought to pay, and in some provinces assesses and levies it as he thinks proper; while in others he leaves it to be assessed and levied as the respective states of each province shall determine. In some provinces of France, the king not only imposes what taxes he thinks proper, but assesses and levies them in the way he thinks proper. From others he demands a certain sum, but leaves it to the states of each province to assess and levy that sum as they think proper. According to the scheme of taxing by requisition, the parliament of Great Britain would stand nearly in the same situation towards the colony assemblies, as the king of France does towards the states of those provinces which still enjoy the privilege of having states of their own, the provinces of France which are supposed to be the best governed.
But though, according to this scheme, the colonies could have no just reason to fear that their share of the public burdens should ever exceed the proper proportion to that of their fellow-citizens at home, Great Britain might have just reason to fear that it never would amount to that proper proportion. The parliament of Great Britain has not, for some time past, had the same established authority in the colonies, which the French king has in those provinces of France which still enjoy the privilege of having states of their own. The colony assemblies, if they were not very favourably disposed (and unless more skilfully managed than they ever have been hitherto, they are not very likely to be so), might still find many pretences for evading or rejecting the most reasonable requisitions of parliament. A French war breaks out, we shall suppose; ten millions must immediately be raised, in order to defend the seat of the empire. This sum must be borrowed upon the credit of some parliamentary fund mortgaged for paying the interest. Part of this fund parliament proposes to raise by a tax to be levied in Great Britain; and part of it by a requisition to all the different colony assemblies of America and the West Indies. Would people readily advance their money upon the credit of a fund which partly depended upon the good humour of all those assemblies, far distant from the seat of the war, and sometimes, perhaps, thinking themselves not much concerned in the event of it? Upon such a fund, no more money would probably be advanced than what the tax to be levied in Great Britain might be supposed to answer for. The whole burden of the debt contracted on account of the war would in this manner fall, as it always has done hitherto, upon Great Britain; upon a part of the empire, and not upon the whole empire. Great Britain is, perhaps, since the world began, the only state which, as it has extended its empire, has only increased its expense, without once augmenting its resources. Other states have generally disburdened themselves, upon their subject and subordinate provinces, of the most considerable part of the expense of defending the empire. Great Britain has hitherto suffered her subject and subordinate provinces to disburden themselves upon her of almost this whole expense. In order to put Great Britain upon a footing of equality with her own colonies, which the law has hitherto supposed to be subject and subordinate, it seems necessary, upon the scheme of taxing them by parliamentary requisition, that parliament should have some means of rendering its requisitions immediately effectual, in case the colony assemblies should attempt to evade or reject them; and what those means are, it is not very easy to conceive, and it has not yet been explained.
Should the parliament of Great Britain, at the same time, be ever fully established in the right of taxing the colonies, even independent of the consent of their own assemblies, the importance of those assemblies would, from that moment, be at an end, and with it, that of all the leading men of British America. Men desire to have some share in the management of public affairs, chiefly on account of the importance which it gives them. Upon the power which the greater part of the leading men, the natural aristocracy of every country, have of preserving or defending their respective importance, depends the stability and duration of every system of free government. In the attacks which those leading men are continually making upon the importance of one another, and in the defence of their own, consists the whole play of domestic faction and ambition. The leading men of America, like those of all other countries, desire to preserve their own importance. They feel, or imagine, that if their assemblies, which they are fond of calling parliaments, and of considering as equal in authority to the parliament of Great Britain, should be so far degraded as to become the humble ministers and executive officers of that parliament, the greater part of their own importance would be at an end. They have rejected, therefore, the proposal of being taxed by parliamentary requisition, and, like other ambitious and high-spirited men, have rather chosen to draw the sword in defence of their own importance.
English
To propose that Great Britain voluntarily surrender all authority over her colonies and leave them to choose their own magistrates, enact their own laws, and decide on peace and war as they see fit would be to propose a measure no nation in the world has ever adopted or ever will. No nation has voluntarily given up dominion over any province, however troublesome its government and however small the revenue it brings in relation to its cost. Such sacrifices, though frequently in a nation's interest, always wound its pride. More importantly, perhaps, they always run counter to the private interests of its governing class, which would lose control of many offices of trust and profit, and many opportunities to acquire wealth and distinction, afforded even by the most turbulent province, however unprofitable it is to the great body of the people. Even the wildest dreamer could scarcely propose such a measure with any serious hope of its adoption. If it were adopted, however, Great Britain would at once be relieved of the entire annual expense of the colonies' peacetime establishment. She could also negotiate with them a commercial treaty securing free trade, more advantageous to the great body of the people, though less advantageous to merchants, than her present monopoly. By parting as friends, we would soon rekindle the colonies' natural affection for the mother country, which our recent disputes have perhaps nearly extinguished. That affection might lead them not only to honor our commercial treaty for centuries after our parting but also to favor us in war as well as in trade, becoming our most faithful, affectionate, and generous allies instead of turbulent and factious subjects. Between Great Britain and her colonies there might revive the same parental affection on one side and filial respect on the other that once existed between the colonies of ancient Greece and the mother cities from which they sprang.
For a province to benefit the empire to which it belongs, it should provide the public, in peacetime, with enough revenue not only to meet the entire cost of its own peacetime establishment but also to contribute its share to the support of the empire's general government. Every province necessarily adds something to that general government's expenses. If a province fails to pay its share of those expenses, an unequal burden must fall on some other part of the empire. By the same reasoning, the extraordinary revenue each province provides to the public in wartime should bear the same proportion to the empire's total extraordinary revenue as its ordinary revenue does in peacetime. It will readily be admitted that neither the ordinary nor the extraordinary revenue Great Britain obtains from her colonies bears this proportion to the total revenue of the British empire. The monopoly, it has been supposed, makes up for the shortfall in colonial public revenue by increasing the private revenue of the British people and thereby enabling them to pay higher taxes. But I have tried to show that this monopoly, though a severe tax on the colonies and a possible source of greater revenue for one particular group in Great Britain, reduces rather than increases the revenue of the great body of the people, and consequently reduces rather than increases their ability to pay taxes. The men whose revenue it does increase form a particular group that it is quite impossible to tax more heavily in proportion than other groups, and extremely unwise even to try to tax more heavily, as I shall try to show in the following book. No special resource, then, can be drawn from this particular group.
The colonies may be taxed either by their own assemblies or by the parliament of Great Britain.
It seems highly unlikely that the colonial assemblies could ever be managed so as to levy from their constituents enough public revenue both to maintain their own civil and military establishments at all times and to pay their proper share of the British empire's general governmental expenses. Even the parliament of England, though directly under the sovereign's eye, took a long time to be brought under a system of management that would induce it to grant enough to support its own country's civil and military establishments. Such a system could be established even for the parliament of England only by distributing among individual members a large share of the offices associated with those establishments, or of the power to appoint people to them. Managing the colonial assemblies in the same way would be very difficult because of their distance from the sovereign's eye, their number, their scattered locations, and their different constitutions—even if the sovereign had the same means of doing so, which he does not. It would be altogether impossible to distribute among all the leading members of all the colonial assemblies a sufficient share of offices arising from the general government of the British empire, or of the power to appoint to them, to persuade those members to sacrifice their popularity at home and tax their constituents to support a general government whose benefits would go almost entirely to strangers. Furthermore, the administration could not avoid being ignorant of the relative importance of the members of these different assemblies. The offenses it would often cause and the mistakes it would constantly make in attempting to manage them in this fashion appear to make such a system altogether impracticable.
Nor can the colonial assemblies be regarded as competent judges of what is needed to defend and support the whole empire. That responsibility has not been entrusted to them. It is not their business, and they have no regular means of informing themselves about it. Like a parish vestry, a provincial assembly may judge the affairs of its own district very well, but it has no suitable means of judging the affairs of the whole empire. It cannot even judge properly how its province compares with the empire as a whole, or assess its relative wealth and importance beside other provinces, because those other provinces are not subject to its inspection and supervision. Only the assembly that oversees the affairs of the whole empire can judge what is needed for its defense and support, and what share each part should contribute.
Accordingly, a proposal has been made to tax the colonies by requisition: the British parliament would determine the sum each colony should pay, and its provincial assembly would assess and collect that sum in the way best suited to local circumstances. Matters concerning the whole empire would thus be decided by the assembly that oversees its affairs, while each colony's provincial affairs could still be regulated by its own assembly. Even if the colonies had no representatives in the British parliament under this arrangement, experience gives us no reason to expect that parliament's requisitions would be unreasonable. The parliament of England has never shown the slightest inclination to overburden parts of the empire unrepresented in parliament. The islands of Guernsey and Jersey, though they have no means of resisting parliamentary authority, are taxed more lightly than any part of Great Britain. In trying to exercise its supposed right to tax the colonies, whether that right is sound or not, parliament has never demanded anything approaching their fair share of what their fellow subjects at home pay. Moreover, if the colonies' contributions rose and fell with the land-tax, parliament could not tax them without at the same time taxing its own constituents. In that case the colonies might be regarded as virtually represented in parliament.
There are examples of empires in which the provinces are not all taxed, if I may put it this way, in one mass. Instead, the sovereign sets the sum each province should pay, assessing and collecting it himself as he thinks fit in some provinces, while leaving assessment and collection in others to their respective provincial states. In some provinces of France, the king not only imposes whatever taxes he chooses but also assesses and collects them in whatever way he chooses. From others he demands a certain sum but lets their states decide how to assess and collect it. Under the proposed system of taxation by requisition, the British parliament would stand in much the same relation to the colonial assemblies as the king of France does to the states of those French provinces that still have the privilege of their own states—the provinces of France thought to be best governed.
But although this proposal would give the colonies no just cause to fear that their share of public burdens would ever exceed their proper proportion compared with that of their fellow citizens at home, Great Britain might have good reason to fear that it would never reach that proportion. The British parliament has for some time lacked the settled authority in the colonies that the French king possesses in the French provinces still privileged to have their own states. Unless the colonial assemblies were favorably disposed—and unless managed more skillfully than ever before, they are unlikely to be so—they might still find many pretexts for evading or rejecting even parliament's most reasonable requisitions. Suppose a war with France breaks out and ten millions must immediately be raised to defend the seat of the empire. The sum must be borrowed on the credit of a parliamentary fund pledged to pay its interest. Parliament proposes to raise part of that fund through a tax in Great Britain and part through requisitions from the various colonial assemblies in America and the West Indies. Would lenders readily advance money against a fund partly dependent on the goodwill of all those assemblies, far from the scene of the war and perhaps at times believing they had little stake in its outcome? Probably no more money could be raised against such a fund than the tax levied in Great Britain alone could be expected to cover. The whole burden of the war debt would therefore fall, as it always has before, on Great Britain: on one part of the empire, not on the whole. Great Britain is perhaps the only state since the world began that, in enlarging its empire, has increased its expenses without once adding to its resources. Other states have generally shifted to their subject and subordinate provinces the greater part of the expense of defending the empire. Great Britain has so far allowed her subject and subordinate provinces to shift almost all that expense onto her. To put Great Britain on an equal footing with her own colonies, which the law has hitherto treated as subject and subordinate, parliament would, under the proposed system of taxation by requisition, need some way to make its requisitions effective at once if the colonial assemblies tried to evade or reject them. It is not easy to imagine what that way might be, and none has yet been explained.
If the British parliament's right to tax the colonies without the consent of their own assemblies were ever fully established, the importance of those assemblies would immediately disappear, and with it the importance of all the leading men of British America. People seek a share in managing public affairs chiefly because of the importance it gives them. The stability and endurance of every system of free government depend on the ability of most leading men—the natural aristocracy of every country—to preserve or defend their own importance. Their continual attacks on one another's importance, and the defense of their own, constitute the whole play of domestic faction and ambition. America's leading men, like those everywhere, wish to preserve their importance. They feel, or imagine, that if their assemblies, which they like to call parliaments and regard as equal in authority to the British parliament, were reduced to the humble agents and executive officers of that parliament, most of their own importance would vanish. They have therefore rejected the proposal to be taxed by parliamentary requisition and, like other ambitious and high-spirited men, have chosen instead to take up arms in defense of their own importance.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 12
18th-century English
Towards the declension of the Roman republic, the allies of Rome, who had borne the principal burden of defending the state and extending the empire, demanded to be admitted to all the privileges of Roman citizens. Upon being refused, the social war broke out. During the course of that war, Rome granted those privileges to the greater part of them, one by one, and in proportion as they detached themselves from the general confederacy. The parliament of Great Britain insists upon taxing the colonies; and they refuse to be taxed by a parliament in which they are not represented. If to each colony which should detach itself from the general confederacy, Great Britain should allow such a number of representatives as suited the proportion of what it contributed to the public revenue of the empire, in consequence of its being subjected to the same taxes, and in compensation admitted to the same freedom of trade with its fellow-subjects at home; the number of its representatives to be augmented as the proportion of its contribution might afterwards augment; a new method of acquiring importance, a new and more dazzling object of ambition, would be presented to the leading men of each colony. Instead of piddling for the little prizes which are to be found in what may be called the paltry raffle of colony faction, they might then hope, from the presumption which men naturally have in their own ability and good fortune, to draw some of the great prizes which sometimes come from the wheel of the great state lottery of British politics. Unless this or some other method is fallen upon, and there seems to be none more obvious than this, of preserving the importance and of gratifying the ambition of the leading men of America, it is not very probable that they will ever voluntarily submit to us; and we ought to consider, that the blood which must be shed in forcing them to do so, is, every drop of it, the blood either of those who are, or of those whom we wish to have for our fellow citizens. They are very weak who flatter themselves that, in the state to which things have come, our colonies will be easily conquered by force alone. The persons who now govern the resolutions of what they call their continental congress, feel in themselves at this moment a degree of importance which, perhaps, the greatest subjects in Europe scarce feel. From shopkeepers, trades men, and attorneys, they are become statesmen and legislators, and are employed in contriving a new form of government for an extensive empire, which, they flatter themselves, will become, and which, indeed, seems very likely to become, one of the greatest and most formidable that ever was in the world. Five hundred different people, perhaps, who, in different ways, act immediately under the continental congress, and five hundred thousand, perhaps, who act under those five hundred, all feel, in the same manner, a proportionable rise in their own importance. Almost every individual of the governing party in America fills, at present, in his own fancy, a station superior, not only to what he had ever filled before, but to what he had ever expected to fill; and unless some new object of ambition is presented either to him or to his leaders, if he has the ordinary spirit of a man, he will die in defence of that station.
It is a remark of the President Heynaut, that we now read with pleasure the account of many little transactions of the Ligue, which, when they happened, were not, perhaps, considered as very important pieces of news. But everyman then, says he, fancied himself of some importance; and the innumerable memoirs which have come down to us from those times, were the greater part of them written by people who took pleasure in recording and magnifying events, in which they flattered themselves they had been considerable actors. How obstinately the city of Paris, upon that occasion, defended itself, what a dreadful famine it supported, rather than submit to the best, and afterwards the most beloved of all the French kings, is well known. The greater part of the citizens, or those who governed the greater part of them, fought in defence of their own importance, which, they foresaw, was to be at an end whenever the ancient government should be re-established. Our colonies, unless they can be induced to consent to a union, are very likely to defend themselves, against the best of all mother countries, as obstinately as the city of Paris did against one of the best of kings.
The idea of representation was unknown in ancient times. When the people of one state were admitted to the right of citizenship in another, they had no other means of exercising that right, but by coming in a body to vote and deliberate with the people of that other state. The admission of the greater part of the inhabitants of Italy to the privileges of Roman citizens, completely ruined the Roman republic. It was no longer possible to distinguish between who was, and who was not, a Roman citizen. No tribe could know its own members. A rabble of any kind could be introduced into the assemblies of the people, could drive out the real citizens, and decide upon the affairs of the republic, as if they themselves had been such. But though America were to send fifty or sixty new representatives to parliament, the door-keeper of the house of commons could not find any great difficulty in distinguishing between who was and who was not a member. Though the Roman constitution, therefore, was necessarily ruined by the union of Rome with the allied states of Italy, there is not the least probability that the British constitution would be hurt by the union of Great Britain with her colonies. That constitution, on the contrary, would be completed by it, and seems to be imperfect without it. The assembly which deliberates and decides concerning the affairs of every part of the empire, in order to be properly informed, ought certainly to have representatives from every part of it. That this union, however, could be easily effectuated, or that difficulties, and great difficulties, might not occur in the execution, I do not pretend. I have yet heard of none, however, which appear insurmountable. The principal, perhaps, arise, not from the nature of things, but from the prejudices and opinions of the people, both on this and on the other side of the Atlantic.
We on this side the water are afraid lest the multitude of American representatives should overturn the balance of the constitution, and increase too much either the influence of the crown on the one hand, or the force of the democracy on the other. But if the number of American representatives were to be in proportion to the produce of American taxation, the number of people to be managed would increase exactly in proportion to the means of managing them, and the means of managing to the number of people to be managed. The monarchical and democratical parts of the constitution would, after the union, stand exactly in the same degree of relative force with regard to one another as they had done before.
The people on the other side of the water are afraid lest their distance from the seat of government might expose them to many oppressions; but their representatives in parliament, of which the number ought from the first to be considerable, would easily be able to protect them from all oppression. The distance could not much weaken the dependency of the representative upon the constituent, and the former would still feel that he owed his seat in parliament, and all the consequence which he derived from it, to the good-will of the latter. It would be the interest of the former, therefore, to cultivate that good-will, by complaining, with all the authority of a member of the legislature, of every outrage which any civil or military officer might be guilty of in those remote parts of the empire. The distance of America from the seat of government, besides, the natives of that country might flatter themselves, with some appearance of reason too, would not be of very long continuance. Such has hitherto been the rapid progress of that country in wealth, population, and improvement, that in the course of little more than a century, perhaps, the produce of the American might exceed that of the British taxation. The seat of the empire would then naturally remove itself to that part of the empire which contributed most to the general defence and support of the whole.
The discovery of America, and that of a passage to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope, are the two greatest and most important events recorded in the history of mankind. Their consequences have already been great; but, in the short period of between two and three centuries which has elapsed since these discoveries were made, it is impossible that the whole extent of their consequences can have been seen. What benefits or what misfortunes to mankind may hereafter result from those great events, no human wisdom can foresee. By uniting in some measure the most distant parts of the world, by enabling them to relieve one another’s wants, to increase one another’s enjoyments, and to encourage one another’s industry, their general tendency would seem to be beneficial. To the natives, however, both of the East and West Indies, all the commercial benefits which can have resulted from those events have been sunk and lost in the dreadful misfortunes which they have occasioned. These misfortunes, however, seem to have arisen rather from accident than from any thing in the nature of those events themselves. At the particular time when these discoveries were made, the superiority of force happened to be so great on the side of the Europeans, that they were enabled to commit with impunity every sort of injustice in those remote countries. Hereafter, perhaps, the natives of those countries may grow stronger, or those of Europe may grow weaker; and the inhabitants of all the different quarters of the world may arrive at that equality of courage and force which, by inspiring mutual fear, can alone overawe the injustice of independent nations into some sort of respect for the rights of one another. But nothing seems more likely to establish this equality of force, than that mutual communication of knowledge, and of all sorts of improvements, which an extensive commerce from all countries to all countries naturally, or rather necessarily, carries along with it.
In the mean time, one of the principal effects of those discoveries has been, to raise the mercantile system to a degree of splendour and glory which it could never otherwise have attained to. It is the object of that system to enrich a great nation, rather by trade and manufactures than by the improvement and cultivation of land, rather by the industry of the towns than by that of the country. But in consequence of those discoveries, the commercial towns of Europe, instead of being the manufacturers and carriers for but a very small part of the world (that part of Europe which is washed by the Atlantic ocean, and the countries which lie round the Baltic and Mediterranean seas), have now become the manufacturers for the numerous and thriving cultivators of America, and the carriers, and in some respects the manufacturers too, for almost all the different nations of Asia, Africa, and America. Two new worlds have been opened to their industry, each of them much greater and more extensive than the old one, and the market of one of them growing still greater and greater every day.
The countries which possess the colonies of America, and which trade directly to the East Indies, enjoy indeed the whole show and splendour of this great commerce. Other countries, however, notwithstanding all the invidious restraints by which it is meant to exclude them, frequently enjoy a greater share of the real benefit of it. The colonies of Spain and Portugal, for example, give more real encouragement to the industry of other countries than to that of Spain and Portugal. In the single article of linen alone, the consumption of those colonies amounts, it is said (but I do not pretend to warrant the quantity ), to more than three millions sterling a-year. But this great consumption is almost entirely supplied by France, Flanders, Holland, and Germany. Spain and Portugal furnish but a small part of it. The capital which supplies the colonies with this great quantity of linen, is annually distributed among, and furnishes a revenue to, the inhabitants of those other countries. The profits of it only are spent in Spain and Portugal, where they help to support the sumptuous profusion of the merchants of Cadiz and Lisbon.
Even the regulations by which each nation endeavours to secure to itself the exclusive trade of its own colonies, are frequently more hurtful to the countries in favour of which they are established, than to those against which they are established. The unjust oppression of the industry of other countries falls back, if I may say so, upon the heads of the oppressors, and crushes their industry more than it does that of those other countries. By those regulations, for example, the merchant of Hamburg must send the linen which he destines for the American market to London, and he must bring back from thence the tobacco which he destines for the German market; because he can neither send the one directly to America, nor bring the other directly from thence. By this restraint he is probably obliged to sell the one somewhat cheaper, and to buy the other somewhat dearer, than he otherwise might have done; and his profits are probably somewhat abridged by means of it. In this trade, however, between Hamburg and London, he certainly receives the returns of his capital much more quickly than he could possibly have done in the direct trade to America, even though we should suppose, what is by no means the case, that the payments of America were as punctual as those of London. In the trade, therefore, to which those regulations confine the merchant of Hamburg, his capital can keep in constant employment a much greater quantity of German industry than he possibly could have done in the trade from which he is excluded. Though the one employment, therefore, may to him perhaps be less profitable than the other, it cannot be less advantageous to his country. It is quite otherwise with the employment into which the monopoly naturally attracts, if I may say so, the capital of the London merchant. That employment may, perhaps, be more profitable to him than the greater part of other employments; but on account of the slowness of the returns, it cannot be more advantageous to his country.
After all the unjust attempts, therefore, of every country in Europe to engross to itself the whole advantage of the trade of its own colonies, no country has yet been able to engross to itself any thing but the expense of supporting in time of peace, and of defending in time of war, the oppressive authority which it assumes over them. The inconveniencies resulting from the possession of its colonies, every country has engrossed to itself completely. The advantages resulting from their trade, it has been obliged to share with many other countries.
English
As the Roman republic declined, Rome’s allies, who had borne the chief burden of defending the state and enlarging its empire, demanded the full privileges of Roman citizenship. When they were refused, the Social War broke out. During that war Rome granted those privileges to most of them, one after another, as they withdrew from the general confederacy. The parliament of Great Britain insists on taxing the colonies, and they refuse to be taxed by a parliament in which they have no representation. Suppose Great Britain offered each colony that withdrew from the general confederacy a number of representatives proportionate to its contribution to the empire’s public revenue, once it had become subject to the same taxes and, in compensation, received the same freedom of trade as its fellow subjects at home; suppose, too, that its representation increased as its contribution increased. The leading men of each colony would then have a new way to gain importance, a new and more dazzling object for their ambition. Instead of scrambling for the petty prizes in what might be called the shabby raffle of colonial faction, they might hope, with the confidence people naturally place in their own talents and luck, to win one of the great prizes occasionally drawn in the grand state lottery of British politics. Unless some means is found—and none seems more obvious than this—to preserve the importance and satisfy the ambition of America’s leading men, it is unlikely that they will ever submit to us voluntarily. We should remember that every drop of blood shed in forcing them to submit belongs either to people who are our fellow citizens or to people whom we wish to make our fellow citizens. Those who flatter themselves that, at this stage, our colonies can easily be conquered by force alone show little judgment. The men who now direct the decisions of what they call their Continental Congress feel a degree of importance that perhaps even the greatest subjects in Europe scarcely feel. Shopkeepers, tradesmen, and attorneys have become statesmen and legislators, occupied with devising a new form of government for an extensive empire which they believe will become—and which indeed seems likely to become—one of the greatest and most formidable the world has ever known. Perhaps five hundred people acting directly under the Continental Congress in various capacities, and perhaps five hundred thousand acting under those five hundred, likewise feel a corresponding rise in their own importance. Almost every member of the governing party in America now imagines himself to hold a position above not only any he has held before, but any he ever expected to hold. Unless a new object for his ambition, or his leaders’ ambition, is offered, any man of ordinary spirit will die defending that position.
President Heynaut observed that we now read with pleasure accounts of many small incidents of the Ligue that, when they occurred, were perhaps not considered especially important news. Yet everyone then, he says, imagined himself to matter; and the countless memoirs handed down from that time were mostly written by people who enjoyed recording and magnifying events in which they believed themselves to have played a notable part. It is well known how stubbornly Paris defended itself on that occasion, and what terrible famine it endured rather than submit to the best, and later the most beloved, of all French kings. Most of the citizens, or those who governed most of them, fought to defend their own importance, which they foresaw would vanish as soon as the old government was restored. Unless our colonies can be persuaded to agree to a union, they are likely to defend themselves against the best of all mother countries as stubbornly as Paris did against one of the best of kings.
The idea of representation was unknown in antiquity. When the people of one state received citizenship in another, they could exercise that right only by coming together in person to vote and deliberate with the people of the other state. Admitting most of Italy’s inhabitants to the privileges of Roman citizens utterly ruined the Roman republic. It was no longer possible to tell who was a Roman citizen and who was not. No tribe could identify its own members. Any rabble could enter the popular assemblies, drive out the genuine citizens, and decide the republic’s affairs as though they themselves were citizens. But even if America sent fifty or sixty new representatives to parliament, the doorkeeper of the house of commons would have little difficulty telling members from nonmembers. Although the union of Rome with the allied states of Italy therefore necessarily ruined the Roman constitution, there is not the slightest likelihood that union with her colonies would damage the British constitution. On the contrary, union would complete that constitution, which seems imperfect without it. An assembly that deliberates and decides on the affairs of every part of the empire must surely have representatives from every part if it is to be properly informed. I do not claim, however, that this union could easily be accomplished, or that great difficulties might not arise in carrying it out. Yet I have heard of none that appear insurmountable. The chief difficulties perhaps arise not from the nature of things but from people’s prejudices and opinions on both sides of the Atlantic.
We on this side of the ocean fear that a multitude of American representatives would upset the balance of the constitution, unduly increasing either the crown’s influence or democracy’s strength. But if the number of American representatives were proportional to the proceeds of American taxation, the number of people to be managed would increase in exact proportion to the means of managing them, and the means of managing them in proportion to their number. After union, the monarchical and democratic elements of the constitution would retain exactly the same relative strength as before.
People on the other side of the ocean fear that their distance from the seat of government might expose them to many forms of oppression. But their representatives in parliament, who ought to be numerous from the outset, could readily protect them from all oppression. Distance would do little to weaken the representative’s dependence on his constituents. He would still know that he owed his seat in parliament, and all the importance it gave him, to their goodwill. It would therefore be in his interest to maintain that goodwill by using the full authority of a legislator to protest every outrage committed by a civil or military officer in those distant parts of the empire. Moreover, the inhabitants of America might reasonably hope that its distance from the seat of government would not persist for very long. So rapid has that country’s progress in wealth, population, and improvement been that in perhaps little more than a century the proceeds of American taxation might exceed those of British taxation. The seat of empire would then naturally shift to the part that contributed most to the defense and support of the whole.
The discovery of America and the discovery of a passage to the East Indies around the Cape of Good Hope are the two greatest and most important events recorded in human history. Their consequences have already been immense; but in the brief span of between two and three centuries since those discoveries, their full consequences could not possibly have become visible. No human wisdom can foresee what benefits or misfortunes those great events may yet bring mankind. By bringing the most distant parts of the world into some measure of contact, allowing them to meet one another’s needs, increase one another’s pleasures, and encourage one another’s industry, their general tendency would seem beneficial. For the native peoples of both the East and West Indies, however, every commercial benefit arising from these events has been swallowed up and lost in the dreadful calamities they brought. Those calamities seem to have arisen more from circumstance than from anything inherent in the discoveries themselves. At the particular time they were made, Europeans happened to possess such overwhelming superiority of force that they could commit every sort of injustice in those distant countries with impunity. Perhaps in the future the native peoples of those countries will grow stronger, or Europeans weaker, until the inhabitants of all parts of the world attain that equality of courage and force which, by inspiring mutual fear, can alone restrain the injustice of independent nations and compel some respect for one another’s rights. Nothing seems more likely to establish such equality of force than the mutual exchange of knowledge and every kind of improvement which extensive commerce among all countries naturally—or rather necessarily—brings with it.
Meanwhile, one principal effect of these discoveries has been to raise the mercantile system to a splendor and glory it could never otherwise have reached. That system aims to enrich a great nation through trade and manufactures rather than through improving and cultivating land, through the industry of towns rather than that of the countryside. But as a consequence of the discoveries, Europe’s commercial towns are no longer manufacturers and carriers for only a small part of the world—the Atlantic shores of Europe and the countries around the Baltic and Mediterranean seas. They have become manufacturers for America’s numerous and flourishing cultivators, and carriers, as well as in some respects manufacturers, for nearly all the peoples of Asia, Africa, and America. Two new worlds have opened to their industry, each far larger and more extensive than the old one, and the market of one still growing larger every day.
The countries that possess American colonies and trade directly with the East Indies do indeed enjoy all the display and splendor of this great commerce. Yet other countries, despite the hostile restrictions intended to exclude them, often enjoy a greater share of its real benefits. The colonies of Spain and Portugal, for example, do more to encourage the industry of other countries than that of Spain and Portugal. In linen alone, those colonies are said to consume more than three millions sterling a year, though I cannot vouch for the figure. Nearly all this immense demand is supplied by France, Flanders, Holland, and Germany; Spain and Portugal supply only a small part. The capital that supplies the colonies with so much linen is distributed each year among the inhabitants of those other countries and provides them with revenue. Only its profits are spent in Spain and Portugal, where they help sustain the extravagant luxury of the merchants of Cadiz and Lisbon.
Even the regulations by which each nation tries to reserve exclusive trade with its colonies for itself often harm the favored countries more than the countries they exclude. The unjust oppression of other countries’ industry recoils, so to speak, upon the oppressors and crushes their own industry more severely. Under these regulations, for example, a merchant of Hamburg must send linen bound for the American market to London, and bring back from London tobacco destined for the German market: he can neither send the linen directly to America nor bring the tobacco directly from there. This restriction probably forces him to sell the one somewhat cheaper and buy the other somewhat dearer than he otherwise would, diminishing his profits somewhat. Yet in this trade between Hamburg and London his capital certainly returns far more quickly than it could in direct trade with America, even if American payments were as punctual as London’s—which they certainly are not. In the trade to which these regulations confine the Hamburg merchant, therefore, his capital can keep far more German industry continuously employed than it could in the trade from which he is excluded. Though this employment may be less profitable to him, it cannot be less beneficial to his country. The opposite holds for the employment into which the monopoly naturally draws, so to speak, the London merchant’s capital. It may be more profitable to him than most other employments, but because its returns are slow, it cannot be more beneficial to his country.
Thus, after all the unjust efforts of each European country to appropriate the whole advantage of trade with its own colonies, none has yet succeeded in appropriating anything but the cost of maintaining in peacetime, and defending in wartime, the oppressive authority it assumes over them. Every country has reserved for itself all the disadvantages of possessing colonies. The advantages of trading with them it has been obliged to share with many other countries.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 13
18th-century English
At first sight, no doubt, the monopoly of the great commerce of America naturally seems to be an acquisition of the highest value. To the undiscerning eye of giddy ambition it naturally presents itself, amidst the confused scramble of politics and war, as a very dazzling object to fight for. The dazzling splendour of the object, however, the immense greatness of the commerce, is the very quality which renders the monopoly of it hurtful, or which makes one employment, in its own nature necessarily less advantageous to the country than the greater part of other employments, absorb a much greater proportion of the capital of the country than what would otherwise have gone to it.
The mercantile stock of every country, it has been shown in the second book, naturally seeks, if one may say so, the employment most advantageous to that country. If it is employed in the carrying trade, the country to which it belongs becomes the emporium of the goods of all the countries whose trade that stock carries on. But the owner of that stock necessarily wishes to dispose of as great a part of those goods as he can at home. He thereby saves himself the trouble, risk, and expense of exportation; and he will upon that account be glad to sell them at home, not only for a much smaller price, but with somewhat a smaller profit, than he might expect to make by sending them abroad. He naturally, therefore, endeavours as much as he can to turn his carrying trade into a foreign trade of consumption, If his stock, again, is employed in a foreign trade of consumption, he will, for the same reason, be glad to dispose of, at home, as great a part as he can of the home goods which he collects in order to export to some foreign market, and he will thus endeavour, as much as he can, to turn his foreign trade of consumption into a home trade. The mercantile stock of every country naturally courts in this manner the near, and shuns the distant employment: naturally courts the employment in which the returns are frequent, and shuns that in which they are distant and slow; naturally courts the employment in which it can maintain the greatest quantity of productive labour in the country to which it belongs, or in which its owner resides, and shuns that in which it can maintain there the smallest quantity. It naturally courts the employment which in ordinary cases is most advantageous, and shuns that which in ordinary cases is least advantageous to that country.
But if, in any one of those distant employments, which in ordinary cases are less advantageous to the country, the profit should happen to rise somewhat higher than what is sufficient to balance the natural preference which is given to nearer employments, this superiority of profit will draw stock from those nearer employments, till the profits of all return to their proper level. This superiority of profit, however, is a proof that, in the actual circumstances of the society, those distant employments are somewhat understocked in proportion to other employments, and that the stock of the society is not distributed in the properest manner among all the different employments carried on in it. It is a proof that something is either bought cheaper or sold dearer than it ought to be, and that some particular class of citizens is more or less oppressed, either by paying more, or by getting less than what is suitable to that equality which ought to take place, and which naturally does take place, among all the different classes of them. Though the same capital never will maintain the same quantity of productive labour in a distant as in a near employment, yet a distant employment maybe as necessary for the welfare of the society as a near one; the goods which the distant employment deals in being necessary, perhaps, for carrying on many of the nearer employments. But if the profits of those who deal in such goods are above their proper level, those goods will be sold dearer than they ought to be, or somewhat above their natural price, and all those engaged in the nearer employments will be more or less oppressed by this high price. Their interest, therefore, in this case, requires, that some stock should be withdrawn from those nearer employments, and turned towards that distant one, in order to reduce its profits to their proper level, and the price of the goods which it deals in to their natural price. In this extraordinary case, the public interest requires that some stock should be withdrawn from those employments which, in ordinary cases, are more advantageous, and turned towards one which, in ordinary cases, is less advantageous to the public; and, in this extraordinary case, the natural interests and inclinations of men coincide as exactly with the public interests as in all other ordinary cases, and lead them to withdraw stock from the near, and to turn it towards the distant employments.
It is thus that the private interests and passions of individuals naturally dispose them to turn their stock towards the employments which in ordinary cases, are most advantageous to the society. But if from this natural preference they should turn too much of it towards those employments, the fall of profit in them, and the rise of it in all others, immediately dispose them to alter this faulty distribution. Without any intervention of law, therefore, the private interests and passions of men naturally lead them to divide and distribute the stock of every society among all the different employments carried on in it; as nearly as possible in the proportion which is most agreeable to the interest of the whole society.
All the different regulations of the mercantile system necessarily derange more or less this natural and most advantageous distribution of stock. But those which concern the trade to America and the East Indies derange it, perhaps, more than any other; because the trade to those two great continents absorbs a greater quantity of stock than any two other branches of trade. The regulations, however, by which this derangement is effected in those two different branches of trade, are not altogether the same. Monopoly is the great engine of both; but it is a different sort of monopoly. Monopoly of one kind or another, indeed, seems to be the sole engine of the mercantile system.
In the trade to America, every nation endeavours to engross as much as possible the whole market of its own colonies, by fairly excluding all other nations from any direct trade to them. During the greater part of the sixteenth century, the Portuguese endeavoured to manage the trade to the East Indies in the same manner, by claiming the sole right of sailing in the Indian seas, on account of the merit of having first found out the road to them. The Dutch still continue to exclude all other European nations from any direct trade to their spice islands. Monopolies of this kind are evidently established against all other European nations, who are thereby not only excluded from a trade to which it might be convenient for them to turn some part of their stock, but are obliged to buy the goods which that trade deals in, somewhat dearer than if they could import them themselves directly from the countries which produced them.
But since the fall of the power of Portugal, no European nation has claimed the exclusive right of sailing in the Indian seas, of which the principal ports are now open to the ships of all European nations. Except in Portugal, however, and within these few years in France, the trade to the East Indies has, in every European country, been subjected to an exclusive company. Monopolies of this kind are properly established against the very nation which erects them. The greater part of that nation are thereby not only excluded from a trade to which it might be convenient for them to turn some part of their stock, but are obliged to buy the goods which that trade deals in somewhat dearer than if it was open and free to all their countrymen. Since the establishment of the English East India company, for example, the other inhabitants of England, over and above being excluded from the trade, must have paid, in the price of the East India goods which they have consumed, not only for all the extraordinary profits which the company may have made upon those goods in consequence of their monopoly, but for all the extraordinary waste which the fraud and abuse inseparable from the management of the affairs of so great a company must necessarily have occasioned. The absurdity of this second kind of monopoly, therefore, is much more manifest than that of the first.
Both these kinds of monopolies derange more or less the natural distribution of the stock of the society; but they do not always derange it in the same way.
Monopolies of the first kind always attract to the particular trade in which they are established a greater proportion of the stock of the society than what would go to that trade of its own accord.
Monopolies of the second kind may sometimes attract stock towards the particular trade in which they are established, and sometimes repel it from that trade, according to different circumstances. In poor countries, they naturally attract towards that trade more stock than would otherwise go to it. In rich countries, they naturally repel from it a good deal of stock which would otherwise go to it.
Such poor countries as Sweden and Denmark, for example, would probably have never sent a single ship to the East Indies, had not the trade been subjected to an exclusive company. The establishment of such a company necessarily encourages adventurers. Their monopoly secures them against all competitors in the home market, and they have the same chance for foreign markets with the traders of other nations. Their monopoly shows them the certainty of a great profit upon a considerable quantity of goods, and the chance of a considerable profit upon a great quantity. Without such extraordinary encouragement, the poor traders of such poor countries would probably never have thought of hazarding their small capitals in so very distant and uncertain an adventure as the trade to the East Indies must naturally have appeared to them.
Such a rich country as Holland, on the contrary, would probably, in the case of a free trade, send many more ships to the East Indies than it actually does. The limited stock of the Dutch East India company probably repels from that trade many great mercantile capitals which would otherwise go to it. The mercantile capital of Holland is so great, that it is, as it were, continually overflowing, sometimes into the public funds of foreign countries, sometimes into loans to private traders and adventurers of foreign countries, sometimes into the most round-about foreign trades of consumption, and sometimes into the carrying trade. All near employments being completely filled up, all the capital which can be placed in them with any tolerable profit being already placed in them, the capital of Holland necessarily flows towards the most distant employments. The trade to the East Indies, if it were altogether free, would probably absorb the greater part of this redundant capital. The East Indies offer a market both for the manufactures of Europe, and for the gold and silver, as well as for the several other productions of America, greater and more extensive than both Europe and America put together.
Every derangement of the natural distribution of stock is necessarily hurtful to the society in which it takes place; whether it be by repelling from a particular trade the stock which would otherwise go to it, or by attracting towards a particular trade that which would not otherwise come to it. If, without any exclusive company, the trade of Holland to the East Indies would be greater than it actually is, that country must suffer a considerable loss, by part of its capital being excluded from the employment most convenient for that port. And, in the same manner, if, without an exclusive company, the trade of Sweden and Denmark to the East Indies would be less than it actually is, or, what perhaps is more probable, would not exist at all, those two countries must likewise suffer a considerable loss, by part of their capital being drawn into an employment which must be more or less unsuitable to their present circumstances. Better for them, perhaps, in the present circumstances, to buy East India goods of other nations, even though they should pay somewhat dearer, than to turn so great a part of their small capital to so very distant a trade, in which the returns are so very slow, in which that capital can maintain so small a quantity of productive labour at home, where productive labour is so much wanted, where so little is done, and where so much is to do.
Though without an exclusive company, therefore, a particular country should not be able to carry on any direct trade to the East Indies, it will not from thence follow, that such a company ought to be established there, but only that such a country ought not, in these circumstances, to trade directly to the East Indies. That such companies are not in general necessary for carrying on the East India trade, is sufficiently demonstrated by the experience of the Portuguese, who enjoyed almost the whole of it for more than a century together, without any exclusive company.
No private merchant, it has been said, could well have capital sufficient to maintain factors and agents in the different ports of the East Indies, in order to provide goods for the ships which he might occasionally send thither; and yet, unless he was able to do this, the difficulty of finding a cargo might frequently make his ships lose the season for returning; and the expense of so long a delay would not only eat up the whole profit of the adventure, but frequently occasion a very considerable loss. This argument, however, if it proved any thing at all, would prove that no one great branch of trade could be carried on without an exclusive company, which is contrary to the experience of all nations. There is no great branch of trade, in which the capital of any one private merchant is sufficient for carrying on all the subordinate branches which must be carried on, in order to carry on the principal one. But when a nation is ripe for any great branch of trade, some merchants naturally turn their capitals towards the principal, and some towards the subordinate branches of it; and though all the different branches of it are in this manner carried on, yet it very seldom happens that they are all carried on by the capital of one private merchant. If a nation, therefore, is ripe for the East India trade, a certain portion of its capital will naturally divide itself among all the different branches of that trade. Some of its merchants will find it for their interest to reside in the East Indies, and to employ their capitals there in providing goods for the ships which are to be sent out by other merchants who reside in Europe. The settlements which different European nations have obtained in the East Indies, if they were taken from the exclusive companies to which they at present belong, and put under the immediate protection of the sovereign, would render this residence both safe and easy, at least to the merchants of the particular nations to whom those settlements belong. If, at any particular time, that part of the capital of any country which of its own accord tended and inclined, if I may say so, towards the East India trade, was not sufficient for carrying on all those different branches of it, it would be a proof that, at that particular time, that country was not ripe for that trade, and that it would do better to buy for some time, even at a higher price, from other European nations, the East India goods it had occasion for, than to import them itself directly from the East Indies. What it might lose by the high price of those goods, could seldom be equal to the loss which it would sustain by the distraction of a large portion of its capital from other employments more necessary, or more useful, or more suitable to its circumstances and situation, than a direct trade to the East Indies.
English
At first sight, no doubt, a monopoly of the vast commerce of America seems a prize of the highest value. To ambition’s dazzled and undiscerning eye, amid the turmoil of politics and war, it appears an especially brilliant prize to fight for. Yet the very brilliance of this prize—the immense scale of the commerce—is what makes its monopoly harmful: it causes an employment inherently less beneficial to the country than most others to absorb a far greater share of the country’s capital than it otherwise would.
As shown in the second book, the mercantile stock of every country naturally seeks, so to speak, the employment most beneficial to that country. If it is engaged in the carrying trade, its country becomes a marketplace for the goods of all the countries whose commerce that stock carries. But the owner of the stock necessarily wants to sell as much as he can of those goods at home. He thereby saves the trouble, risk, and expense of exporting them, and will accordingly be willing to sell them at home not only at a considerably lower price, but also for a somewhat smaller profit, than he could expect by sending them abroad. He therefore naturally tries wherever possible to turn his carrying trade into a foreign trade of consumption. If, in turn, his stock is employed in a foreign trade of consumption, for the same reason he will be glad to sell at home as much as possible of the domestic goods he has assembled for export to a foreign market. He will thus try wherever possible to turn his foreign trade of consumption into domestic trade. In this way the mercantile stock of every country naturally favors nearby employment and avoids distant employment; favors employment with frequent returns and avoids employment with distant, slow returns; favors employment that can sustain the greatest amount of productive labor in the country to which it belongs, or in which its owner lives, and avoids employment that sustains the least there. It naturally favors the employment ordinarily most beneficial to that country and avoids the one ordinarily least beneficial.
But if profit in one of those distant employments, ordinarily less beneficial to the country, happens to rise somewhat above what is needed to offset the natural preference for nearer employments, that excess profit will draw stock out of the nearer ones until profits everywhere return to their proper level. The excess profit, however, shows that under society’s present circumstances the distant employments are somewhat short of stock relative to others, and that the society’s stock has not been distributed among its different employments in the most suitable way. It shows that something is being bought too cheaply or sold too dearly, and that some particular class of citizens is being treated more or less unfairly, either paying more or receiving less than is consistent with the equality that ought to prevail, and naturally does prevail, among the various classes. Though the same capital will never sustain as much productive labor in a distant employment as in a nearby one, a distant employment may be just as necessary to society’s welfare: the goods it handles may be needed to carry on many nearby employments. But if the profits of the merchants dealing in those goods rise above their proper level, the goods will sell too dearly, somewhat above their natural price, and everyone engaged in the nearer employments will suffer to some extent from that high price. Their interest therefore requires the withdrawal of some stock from the nearer employments and its transfer to the distant one, to bring its profits back to their proper level and the prices of its goods back to their natural price. In this exceptional case, the public interest requires some stock to leave employments ordinarily more beneficial to the public and enter one ordinarily less beneficial. And in this exceptional case, people’s natural interests and inclinations coincide with the public interest as closely as they do in all ordinary cases, prompting them to withdraw stock from nearby employments and turn it toward the distant one.
In this way the private interests and passions of individuals naturally lead them to direct their stock toward employments that are ordinarily most beneficial to society. But if this natural preference leads them to direct too much of it there, falling profits in those employments and rising profits in all the others immediately induce them to correct the faulty distribution. Without any intervention by law, therefore, people’s private interests and passions naturally lead them to divide and distribute every society’s stock among its different employments as nearly as possible in the proportion most favorable to the interest of society as a whole.
All the various regulations of the mercantile system necessarily disturb this natural and most beneficial distribution of stock to some degree. Perhaps none disturb it more than those governing trade with America and the East Indies, since trade with these two great continents absorbs more stock than any other two branches of trade. The regulations that cause the disturbance in the two branches, however, are not quite the same. Monopoly is the chief instrument of both, but each uses a different kind of monopoly. Indeed, monopoly of one kind or another appears to be the mercantile system’s only instrument.
In trade with America, each nation tries to secure as much as possible of its own colonies’ entire market by completely excluding all other nations from direct trade with them. For most of the sixteenth century, the Portuguese tried to conduct trade with the East Indies in the same fashion, claiming the exclusive right to sail the Indian seas because they had been the first to discover the route. The Dutch still exclude every other European nation from direct trade with their spice islands. Monopolies of this kind are plainly directed against all other European nations. Those nations are not only excluded from a trade in which it might be convenient to employ some of their stock, but must also pay somewhat more for its goods than if they could import them directly from the countries where they are produced.
Since the decline of Portuguese power, however, no European nation has claimed the exclusive right to sail the Indian seas, whose principal ports are now open to the ships of all European nations. Yet except in Portugal and, in recent years, France, every European country has entrusted East India trade to an exclusive company. Monopolies of this kind are directed against the very nation that creates them. Most of its people are not only excluded from a trade in which it might be convenient to employ part of their stock, but must also pay somewhat more for the goods traded than they would if the trade were open and free to all their countrymen. Since the establishment of the English East India company, for example, the other inhabitants of England, besides being excluded from the trade, must have paid in the price of the East India goods they consumed not merely for any extraordinary profits the company earned on those goods through its monopoly, but also for all the extraordinary waste inevitably produced by the fraud and abuse inseparable from the administration of so large a company. The absurdity of this second kind of monopoly is therefore much more obvious than that of the first.
Both kinds of monopoly disturb the natural distribution of society’s stock to some degree, but they do not always disturb it in the same way.
Monopolies of the first kind always draw into the particular trade they govern a larger share of society’s stock than would enter it of its own accord.
Monopolies of the second kind may sometimes draw stock into the particular trade they govern and sometimes drive it away, according to circumstances. In poor countries they naturally draw more stock into that trade than would otherwise enter it; in rich countries they naturally drive away a good deal of stock that would otherwise enter.
Poor countries such as Sweden and Denmark, for example, would probably never have sent a single ship to the East Indies if trade had not been placed in the hands of an exclusive company. Establishing such a company necessarily encourages adventurers. Its monopoly protects them from all competitors in the domestic market, while in foreign markets they have the same opportunities as traders from other nations. The monopoly promises them a large profit on a considerable quantity of goods and the chance of a considerable profit on a large quantity. Without this extraordinary encouragement, the merchants of such poor countries would probably never have contemplated risking their small capitals on an enterprise as distant and uncertain as East India trade must naturally have seemed to them.
A rich country such as Holland, by contrast, would probably send many more ships to the East Indies under free trade than it actually does. The Dutch East India company’s limited stock probably keeps out many large mercantile capitals that would otherwise enter that trade. Holland’s mercantile capital is so vast that it seems continually to overflow, sometimes into the public funds of foreign countries, sometimes into loans to foreign merchants and adventurers, sometimes into the most circuitous foreign trades of consumption, and sometimes into the carrying trade. All nearby employments are completely filled, with all the capital they can accommodate at any tolerable profit already invested in them, so Dutch capital necessarily flows toward the most distant employments. If East India trade were entirely free, it would probably absorb most of this surplus capital. The East Indies offer a market for European manufactures, for American gold and silver, and for America’s other products, larger and more extensive than Europe and America together.
Every disturbance of the natural distribution of stock necessarily harms the society in which it occurs, whether it drives stock away from a trade to which it would otherwise go or draws stock into one it would otherwise avoid. If Holland’s trade with the East Indies would be greater without an exclusive company than it actually is, that country must suffer a considerable loss because some of its capital is barred from the employment best suited to that port. Likewise, if Sweden’s and Denmark’s East India trade would be smaller without an exclusive company—or, more probably, would not exist at all—those two countries must suffer a considerable loss because some of their capital is drawn into an employment more or less unsuited to their present circumstances. Perhaps in those circumstances it would be better for them to buy East India goods from other nations, even at a somewhat higher price, than to devote so large a share of their small capital to so distant a trade, where returns are so slow and that capital sustains so little productive labor at home, where productive labor is greatly needed, where so little has been done, and where so much remains to do.
Even if a particular country could conduct no direct trade with the East Indies without an exclusive company, it would not follow that such a company ought to be established there. It would follow only that, in those circumstances, the country ought not to trade directly with the East Indies. That such companies are not generally necessary for East India trade is sufficiently demonstrated by the Portuguese, who enjoyed almost all of that trade for more than a century without any exclusive company.
It has been said that no private merchant could readily have enough capital to maintain factors and agents in the various ports of the East Indies to procure goods for ships he might occasionally send there. Yet without them, the difficulty of finding a cargo might often cause his ships to miss the season for returning, and the cost of so long a delay would not merely consume the entire profit of the venture but often cause a very substantial loss. If this argument proved anything at all, however, it would prove that no major branch of trade could operate without an exclusive company, contrary to the experience of every nation. In no major branch of trade does any single private merchant have enough capital to carry on all the subordinate branches needed to carry on the principal branch. But when a nation is ready for a major branch of trade, some merchants naturally direct their capitals to its principal branch and others to its subordinate branches. All its branches are thus carried on, though very seldom all by the capital of a single private merchant. If a nation is ready for East India trade, therefore, a portion of its capital will naturally divide among that trade’s various branches. Some merchants will find it in their interest to live in the East Indies and use their capitals there to procure goods for ships sent by other merchants living in Europe. If the settlements established by various European nations in the East Indies were taken from the exclusive companies that now hold them and placed under the sovereign’s immediate protection, they would make such residence both safe and easy, at least for merchants of the particular nations that own the settlements. If, at a particular time, the portion of a country’s capital naturally inclined toward East India trade was insufficient to carry on all its different branches, that would show that the country was not yet ready for that trade. It would do better, for a time, to buy the East India goods it needed from other European nations, even at a higher price, than to import them directly from the East Indies. What it might lose through the higher price of those goods could seldom equal the loss it would incur by diverting a large share of its capital from other employments more necessary, more useful, or better suited to its circumstances and situation than direct trade with the East Indies.
Book IV, Chapter VII, 14
18th-century English
Though the Europeans possess many considerable settlements both upon the coast of Africa and in the East Indies, they have not yet established, in either of those countries, such numerous and thriving colonies as those in the islands and continent of America. Africa, however, as well as several of the countries comprehended under the general name of the East Indies, is inhabited by barbarous nations. But those nations were by no means so weak and defenceless as the miserable and helpless Americans; and in proportion to the natural fertility of the countries which they inhabited, they were, besides, much more populous. The most barbarous nations either of Africa or of the East Indies, were shepherds; even the Hottentots were so. But the natives of every part of America, except Mexico and Peru, were only hunters and the difference is very great between the number of shepherds and that of hunters whom the same extent of equally fertile territory can maintain. In Africa and the East Indies, therefore, it was more difficult to displace the natives, and to extend the European plantations over the greater part of the lands of the original inhabitants. The genius of exclusive companies, besides, is unfavourable, it has already been observed, to the growth of new colonies, and has probably been the principal cause of the little progress which they have made in the East Indies. The Portuguese carried on the trade both to Africa and the East Indies, without any exclusive companies; and their settlements at Congo, Angola, and Benguela, on the coast of Africa, and at Goa in the East Indies though much depressed by superstition and every sort of bad government, yet bear some resemblance to the colonies of America, and are partly inhabited by Portuguese who have been established there for several generations. The Dutch settlements at the Cape of Good Hope and at Batavia, are at present the most considerable colonies which the Europeans have established, either in Africa or in the East Indies; and both those settlements are peculiarly fortunate in their situation. The Cape of Good Hope was inhabited by a race of people almost as barbarous, and quite as incapable of defending themselves, as the natives of America. It is, besides, the half-way house, if one may say so, between Europe and the East Indies, at which almost every European ship makes some stay, both in going and returning. The supplying of those ships with every sort of fresh provisions, with fruit, and sometimes with wine, affords alone a very extensive market for the surplus produce of the colonies. What the Cape of Good Hope is between Europe and every part of the East Indies, Batavia is between the principal countries of the East Indies. It lies upon the most frequented road from Indostan to China and Japan, and is nearly about mid-way upon that road. Almost all the ships too, that sail between Europe and China, touch at Batavia; and it is, over and above all this, the centre and principal mart of what is called the country trade of the East Indies; not only of that part of it which is carried on by Europeans, but of that which is carried on by the native Indians; and vessels navigated by the inhabitants of China and Japan, of Tonquin, Malacca, Cochin-China, and the island of Celebes, are frequently to be seen in its port. Such advantageous situations have enabled those two colonies to surmount all the obstacles which the oppressive genius of an exclusive company may have occasionally opposed to their growth. They have enabled Batavia to surmount the additional disadvantage of perhaps the most unwholesome climate in the world.
The English and Dutch companies, though they have established no considerable colonies, except the two above mentioned, have both made considerable conquests in the East Indies. But in the manner in which they both govern their new subjects, the natural genius of an exclusive company has shewn itself most distinctly. In the spice islands, the Dutch are said to burn all the spiceries which a fertile season produces, beyond what they expect to dispose of in Europe with such a profit as they think sufficient. In the islands where they have no settlements, they give a premium to those who collect the young blossoms and green leaves of the clove and nutmeg trees, which naturally grow there, but which this savage policy has now, it is said, almost completely extirpated. Even in the islands where they have settlements, they have very much reduced, it is said, the number of those trees. If the produce even of their own islands was much greater than what suited their market, the natives, they suspect, might find means to convey some part of it to other nations; and the best way, they imagine, to secure their own monopoly, is to take care that no more shall grow than what they themselves carry to market. By different arts of oppression, they have reduced the population of several of the Moluccas nearly to the number which is sufficient to supply with fresh provisions, and other necessaries of life, their own insignificant garrisons, and such of their ships as occasionally come there for a cargo of spices. Under the government even of the Portuguese, however, those islands are said to have been tolerably well inhabited. The English company have not yet had time to establish in Bengal so perfectly destructive a system. The plan of their government, however, has had exactly the same tendency. It has not been uncommon, I am well assured, for the chief, that is, the first clerk or a factory, to order a peasant to plough up a rich field of poppies, and sow it with rice, or some other grain. The pretence was, to prevent a scarcity of provisions; but the real reason, to give the chief an opportunity of selling at a better price a large quantity of opium which he happened then to have upon hand. Upon other occasions, the order has been reversed; and a rich field of rice or other grain has been ploughed up, in order to make room for a plantation of poppies, when the chief foresaw that extraordinary profit was likely to be made by opium. The servants of the company have, upon several occasions, attempted to establish in their own favour the monopoly of some of the most important branches, not only of the foreign, but of the inland trade of the country. Had they been allowed to go on, it is impossible that they should not, at some time or another, have attempted to restrain the production of the particular articles of which they had thus usurped the monopoly, not only to the quantity which they themselves could purchase, but to that which they could expect to sell with such a profit as they might think sufficient. In the course of a century or two, the policy of the English company would, in this manner, have probably proved as completely destructive as that of the Dutch.
Nothing, however, can be more directly contrary to the real interest of those companies, considered as the sovereigns of the countries which they have conquered, than this destructive plan. In almost all countries, the revenue of the sovereign is drawn from that of the people. The greater the revenue of the people, therefore, the greater the annual produce of their land and labour, the more they can afford to the sovereign. It is his interest, therefore, to increase as much as possible that annual produce. But if this is the interest of every sovereign, it is peculiarly so of one whose revenue, like that of the sovereign of Bengal, arises chiefly from a land-rent. That rent must necessarily be in proportion to the quantity and value of the produce; and both the one and the other must depend upon the extent of the market. The quantity will always be suited, with more or less exactness, to the consumption of those who can afford to pay for it; and the price which they will pay will always be in proportion to the eagerness of their competition. It is the interest of such a sovereign, therefore, to open the most extensive market for the produce of his country, to allow the most perfect freedom of commerce, in order to increase as much as possible the number and competition of buyers; and upon this account to abolish, not only all monopolies, but all restraints upon the transportation of the home produce from one part of the country to another, upon its exportation to foreign countries, or upon the importation of goods of any kind for which it can be exchanged. He is in this manner most likely to increase both the quantity and value of that produce, and consequently of his own share of it, or of his own revenue.
But a company of merchants, are, it seems, incapable of considering themselves as sovereigns, even after they have become such. Trade, or buying in order to sell again, they still consider as their principal business, and by a strange absurdity, regard the character of the sovereign as but an appendix to that of the merchant; as something which ought to be made subservient to it, or by means of which they may be enabled to buy cheaper in India, and thereby to sell with a better profit in Europe. They endeavour, for this purpose, to keep out as much as possible all competitors from the market of the countries which are subject to their government, and consequently to reduce, at least, some part of the surplus produce of those countries to what is barely sufficient for supplying their own demand, or to what they can expect to sell in Europe, with such a profit as they may think reasonable. Their mercantile habits draw them in this manner, almost necessarily, though perhaps insensibly, to prefer, upon all ordinary occasions, the little and transitory profit of the monopolist to the great and permanent revenue of the sovereign; and would gradually lead them to treat the countries subject to their government nearly as the Dutch treat the Moluccas. It is the interest of the East India company, considered as sovereigns, that the European goods which are carried to their Indian dominions should be sold there as cheap as possible; and that the Indian goods which are brought from thence should bring there as good a price, or should be sold there as dear as possible. But the reverse of this is their interest as merchants. As sovereigns, their interest is exactly the same with that of the country which they govern. As merchants, their interest is directly opposite to that interest.
But if the genius of such a government, even as to what concerns its direction in Europe, is in this manner essentially, and perhaps incurably faulty, that of its administration in India is still more so. That administration is necessarily composed of a council of merchants, a profession no doubt extremely respectable, but which in no country in the world carries along with it that sort of authority which naturally overawes the people, and without force commands their willing obedience. Such a council can command obedience only by the military force with which they are accompanied; and their government is, therefore, necessarily military and despotical. Their proper business, however, is that of merchants. It is to sell, upon their master’s account, the European goods consigned to them, and to buy, in return, Indian goods for the European market. It is to sell the one as dear, and to buy the other as cheap as possible, and consequently to exclude, as much as possible, all rivals from the particular market where they keep their shop. The genius of the administration, therefore, so far as concerns the trade of the company, is the same as that of the direction. It tends to make government subservient to the interest of monopoly, and consequently to stunt the natural growth of some parts, at least, of the surplus produce of the country, to what is barely sufficient for answering the demand of the company.
All the members of the administration besides, trade more or less upon their own account; and it is in vain to prohibit them from doing so. Nothing can be more completely foolish than to expect that the clerk of a great counting-house, at ten thousand miles distance, and consequently almost quite out of sight, should, upon a simple order from their master, give up at once doing any sort of business upon their own account abandon for ever all hopes of making a fortune, of which they have the means in their hands; and content themselves with the moderate salaries which those masters allow them, and which, moderate as they are, can seldom be augmented, being commonly as large as the real profits of the company trade can afford. In such circumstances, to prohibit the servants of the company from trading upon their own account, can have scarce any other effect than to enable its superior servants, under pretence of executing their master’s order, to oppress such of the inferior ones as have had the misfortune to fall under their displeasure. The servants naturally endeavour to establish the same monopoly in favour of their own private trade as of the public trade of the company. If they are suffered to act as they could wish, they will establish this monopoly openly and directly, by fairly prohibiting all other people from trading in the articles in which they choose to deal; and this, perhaps, is the best and least oppressive way of establishing it. But if, by an order from Europe, they are prohibited from doing this, they will, notwithstanding, endeavour to establish a monopoly of the same kind secretly and indirectly, in a way that is much more destructive to the country. They will employ the whole authority of government, and pervert the administration of Justice, in order to harass and ruin those who interfere with them in any branch of commerce, which by means of agents, either concealed, or at least not publicly avowed, they may choose to carry on. But the private trade of the servants will naturally extend to a much greater variety of articles than the public trade of the company. The public trade of the company extends no further than the trade with Europe, and comprehends a part only of the foreign trade of the country. But the private trade of the servants may extend to all the different branches both of its inland and foreign trade. The monopoly of the company can tend only to stunt the natural growth of that part of the surplus produce which, in the case of a free trade, would be exported to Europe. That of the servants tends to stunt the natural growth of every part of the produce in which they choose to deal; of what is destined for home consumption, as well as of what is destined for exportation; and consequently to degrade the cultivation of the whole country, and to reduce the number of its inhabitants. It tends to reduce the quantity of every sort of produce, even that of the necessaries of life, whenever the servants of the country choose to deal in them, to what those servants can both afford to buy and expect to sell with such a profit as pleases them.
From the nature of their situation, too, the servants must be more disposed to support with rigourous severity their own interest, against that of the country which they govern, than their masters can be to support theirs. The country belongs to their masters, who cannot avoid having some regard for the interest of what belongs to them; but it does not belong to the servants. The real interest of their masters, if they were capable of understanding it, is the same with that of the country; {The interest of every proprietor of India stock, however, is by no means the same with that of the country in the government of which his vote gives him some influence.—See book v, chap. 1, part ii.}and it is from ignorance chiefly, and the meanness of mercantile prejudice, that they ever oppress it. But the real interest of the servants is by no means the same with that of the country, and the most perfect information would not necessarily put an end to their oppressions. The regulations, accordingly, which have been sent out from Europe, though they have been frequently weak, have upon most occasions been well meaning. More intelligence, and perhaps less good meaning, has sometimes appeared in those established by the servants in India. It is a very singular government in which every member of the administration wishes to get out of the country, and consequently to have done with the government, as soon as he can, and to whose interest, the day after he has left it, and carried his whole fortune with him, it is perfectly indifferent though the whole country was swallowed up by an earthquake.
I mean not, however, by any thing which I have here said, to throw any odious imputation upon the general character of the servants of the East India company, and touch less upon that of any particular persons. It is the system of government, the situation in which they are placed, that I mean to censure, not the character of those who have acted in it. They acted as their situation naturally directed, and they who have clamoured the loudest against them would probably not have acted better themselves. In war and negotiation, the councils of Madras and Calcutta, have upon several occasions, conducted themselves with a resolution and decisive wisdom, which would have done honour to the senate of Rome in the best days of that republic. The members of those councils, however, had been bred to professions very different from war and politics. But their situation alone, without education, experience, or even example, seems to have formed in them all at once the great qualities which it required, and to have inspired them both with abilities and virtues which they themselves could not well know that they possessed. If upon some occasions, therefore, it has animated them to actions of magnanimity which could not well have been expected from them, we should not wonder if, upon others, it has prompted them to exploits of somewhat a different nature.
Such exclusive companies, therefore, are nuisances in every respect; always more or less inconvenient to the countries in which they are established, and destructive to those which have the misfortune to fall under their government.
English
Although Europeans hold many substantial settlements on the African coast and in the East Indies, they have not yet founded in either region colonies as numerous and prosperous as those on the islands and mainland of America. Yet Africa, like several countries included under the general name East Indies, is inhabited by nations Europeans call barbarous. Those nations, however, were by no means as weak and defenseless as the unfortunate and helpless Americans; and, in keeping with the natural fertility of the lands they occupied, they were far more numerous. The nations considered most barbarous in Africa and the East Indies were shepherds—even the Hottentots. But the inhabitants of every part of America except Mexico and Peru were merely hunters; and the numbers of shepherds and hunters that equally fertile tracts of the same size can support differ greatly. In Africa and the East Indies, then, it was harder to displace the inhabitants and spread European plantations across most of their land. Moreover, as already noted, the character of exclusive companies is hostile to the growth of new colonies, and has probably been the main cause of their limited progress in the East Indies. The Portuguese traded with both Africa and the East Indies without exclusive companies. Though superstition and every kind of bad government have greatly weakened their settlements at Congo, Angola, and Benguela on the African coast, and at Goa in the East Indies, these settlements still bear some resemblance to the American colonies and are inhabited in part by Portuguese families established there for several generations. The Dutch settlements at the Cape of Good Hope and Batavia are now the largest colonies Europeans have founded in either Africa or the East Indies, and both enjoy exceptionally favorable positions. The Cape of Good Hope was inhabited by a people almost as unfamiliar with European ways and just as unable to defend themselves as the inhabitants of America. It is also, so to speak, the halfway house between Europe and the East Indies, where almost every European ship stops on both its outward and homeward voyages. Supplying these ships with fresh provisions of every kind, with fruit and sometimes wine, alone provides a very large market for the colonies’ surplus produce. What the Cape of Good Hope is to the passage between Europe and every part of the East Indies, Batavia is to the passage among the chief countries of the East Indies. It lies on the busiest route from Indostan to China and Japan, nearly midway along it. Almost every ship sailing between Europe and China also calls at Batavia. Beyond this, it is the center and principal market of the East Indies’ so-called country trade, conducted not only by Europeans but also by native Indians. Ships manned by people from China and Japan, Tonquin, Malacca, Cochin-China, and the island of Celebes are often seen in its harbor. These advantageous locations have enabled both colonies to overcome all the obstacles that the oppressive character of an exclusive company may at times have placed in the way of their growth. They have enabled Batavia to overcome the further disadvantage of what may be the most unhealthy climate in the world.
The English and Dutch companies, though they have founded no major colonies apart from the two just mentioned, have both made substantial conquests in the East Indies. Yet the way both govern their new subjects displays the natural character of an exclusive company with particular clarity. In the spice islands, the Dutch are said to burn whatever spices a fertile season yields beyond the quantity they expect to sell in Europe at a profit they consider sufficient. On islands where they have no settlements, they pay a premium to people who gather the young blossoms and green leaves of the clove and nutmeg trees growing wild there; this savage policy is said to have almost completely exterminated those trees. Even on islands where they do have settlements, they have, it is said, greatly reduced their number. They fear that if their own islands produced much more than their market required, the inhabitants might find a way to send some of the crop to other nations. The best way to protect their monopoly, they imagine, is to ensure that no more grows than they themselves bring to market. By various forms of oppression they have reduced the population of several of the Moluccas to nearly the number needed to supply their insignificant garrisons and the ships that occasionally come for spices with fresh food and other necessities of life. Under Portuguese rule, however, those islands are said to have been reasonably well populated. The English company has not yet had time to establish in Bengal a system so thoroughly destructive. Its scheme of government has, nevertheless, tended in precisely the same direction. I have reliable assurance that it has not been unusual for the chief—that is, the first clerk of a factory—to order a peasant to plow up a fertile field of poppies and sow rice or another grain instead. The pretext was to prevent a shortage of food; the real purpose was to allow the chief to sell a large stock of opium he happened to have on hand at a higher price. At other times the order has been reversed: a fertile field of rice or another grain has been plowed up to plant poppies when the chief anticipated an extraordinary profit from opium. On several occasions the company’s servants have tried to secure for themselves monopolies over some of the most important branches of both the foreign and the inland trade of the country. Had they been allowed to continue, sooner or later they would inevitably have tried to restrict production of the articles they had monopolized, not merely to the quantity they could themselves purchase, but to the quantity they expected to sell at a profit they deemed sufficient. Over a century or two, the English company’s policy would probably, in this way, have proved as destructive as the Dutch company’s.
Nothing could be more directly opposed to the true interest of these companies as rulers of the countries they have conquered than this destructive policy. In almost every country the sovereign’s revenue comes from that of the people. The larger the people’s revenue, and therefore the larger the annual produce of their land and labor, the more they can pay the sovereign. It is thus in the sovereign’s interest to increase that annual produce as much as possible. This is especially true for a sovereign whose revenue, like the sovereign of Bengal’s, comes chiefly from rent on land. That rent must vary with both the quantity and the value of the produce, and both depend on the breadth of the market. The quantity produced will always correspond, more or less closely, to the consumption of those who can afford to pay for it; and the price they pay will reflect the intensity of their competition. It is therefore in such a sovereign’s interest to open the widest possible market for his country’s produce and allow the fullest freedom of commerce, so as to increase as much as possible both the number of buyers and their competition. For this reason he should abolish not only every monopoly but every restriction on moving domestic produce from one part of the country to another, exporting it abroad, or importing goods of any kind for which it might be exchanged. In this way he is most likely to increase both the quantity and the value of that produce, and thus his own share of it—his revenue.
Yet a company of merchants seems unable to think of itself as a sovereign even once it has become one. It still considers trade—buying in order to sell again—its principal business. With a strange absurdity, it treats the role of sovereign as a mere appendage to that of merchant, something to be subordinated to commerce, enabling the company to buy more cheaply in India and thus sell more profitably in Europe. To this end companies try to exclude as many competitors as possible from the markets of the countries they govern. Consequently they reduce at least some of those countries’ surplus produce to barely enough to meet their own demand, or to the amount they can expect to sell in Europe at what they consider a reasonable profit. Their mercantile habits thus draw them, almost inevitably and perhaps without their realizing it, to prefer on ordinary occasions the small, fleeting profit of a monopolist to the great, enduring revenue of a sovereign. These habits would gradually lead them to treat the countries they govern much as the Dutch treat the Moluccas. In its capacity as sovereign, the East India company benefits when European goods brought to its Indian dominions are sold there as cheaply as possible, and when Indian goods taken from there fetch as high a price there as possible. As a merchant, it benefits from precisely the opposite. As sovereign, its interest is exactly the interest of the country it governs. As merchant, its interest is directly opposed to that country’s.
If the nature of such a government is thus fundamentally, and perhaps incurably, defective even in its direction from Europe, its administration in India is more defective still. That administration must consist of a council of merchants: a highly respectable profession, no doubt, but one that nowhere in the world carries the kind of authority that naturally inspires awe among the people and wins their willing obedience without force. Such a council can command obedience only through the military force accompanying it; its government must therefore be military and despotic. Its proper business, meanwhile, is commerce: selling for its masters the European goods consigned to it and buying Indian goods in return for the European market. It must sell the former as dearly as possible and buy the latter as cheaply as possible, and so exclude as many rivals as it can from the particular market in which it keeps shop. In matters concerning the company’s trade, then, the character of its administration matches that of its directors. It tends to subordinate government to monopoly and thus to stunt the natural growth of at least some parts of the country’s surplus produce, limiting it to barely enough to satisfy the company’s demand.
Moreover, every member of the administration trades to some degree on his own account, and forbidding the practice is futile. Nothing could be more foolish than expecting a clerk in a great countinghouse, ten thousand miles away and almost wholly out of sight, to give up every kind of private business simply on his masters’ orders, abandon forever all hope of making a fortune when the means are in his hands, and content himself with the moderate salary they allow him. Those salaries, modest though they are, can seldom be increased, since they are commonly as high as the real profits of the company’s trade will bear. In these circumstances, forbidding the company’s servants to trade privately can do little beyond enabling senior servants, under the pretense of enforcing their masters’ orders, to oppress junior ones who have incurred their displeasure. The servants naturally seek the same monopoly for their private trade as for the company’s public trade. If allowed to act as they please, they will establish this monopoly openly and directly by simply forbidding everyone else to trade in the articles they choose to handle. This may be the best and least oppressive way of establishing it. But if orders from Europe prohibit them from doing so, they will nevertheless seek to establish the same kind of monopoly secretly and indirectly, in a way far more destructive to the country. They will wield all the authority of government and corrupt the administration of justice to harass and ruin anyone who competes with them in any branch of commerce they choose to pursue through agents, whether hidden or merely not publicly acknowledged. The servants’ private trade naturally extends to a far wider range of goods than the company’s public trade. The company’s trade goes no further than Europe and covers only part of the country’s foreign trade. The servants’ private trade can cover every branch of its inland and foreign commerce. The company’s monopoly can stunt only the natural growth of the portion of surplus produce that, under free trade, would be exported to Europe. The servants’ monopoly tends to stunt the natural growth of every portion of produce in which they choose to deal, whether intended for domestic consumption or export. It thus degrades cultivation across the whole country and reduces its population. Whenever the servants of the company choose to trade in any kind of produce, even the necessities of life, their monopoly tends to restrict its quantity to what they can afford to buy and expect to sell at a profit that satisfies them.
The servants’ circumstances also make them more inclined than their masters to defend their own interest against that of the country they govern with ruthless severity. The country belongs to their masters, who cannot help having some concern for the welfare of their property; it does not belong to the servants. Their masters’ true interest, if they could understand it, coincides with the country’s; [The interest of every proprietor of India stock, however, is by no means the same as that of the country whose government his vote gives him some influence over.—See book v, chap. 1, part ii.] it is chiefly ignorance and the narrowness of mercantile prejudice that lead them to oppress it. The servants’ true interest, by contrast, by no means coincides with the country’s, and even perfect understanding would not necessarily end their oppression. Accordingly, regulations sent out from Europe, though often feeble, have generally been well intentioned. Those devised by the servants in India have sometimes shown greater intelligence, and perhaps less goodwill. It is a remarkable government in which every member of the administration wants to leave the country, and thus be finished with governing it, as soon as possible. Once he has departed with his entire fortune, it makes no difference to his interests if an earthquake swallows the whole country the following day.
Nothing I have said, however, is intended to cast an offensive aspersion on the general character of the East India company’s servants, much less on any particular person. I criticize the system of government and the position in which they are placed, not the character of those who have served under it. They acted as their circumstances naturally led them to act; and those who have denounced them most loudly would probably have done no better. In war and negotiation, the councils of Madras and Calcutta have on several occasions displayed resolve and decisive wisdom worthy of the Roman senate in the republic’s finest days. Yet the members of those councils had been trained for professions very different from war and politics. Their circumstances alone, without education, experience, or even an example to follow, seem to have brought forth at once the great qualities required of them and inspired abilities and virtues they themselves could scarcely have known they possessed. If those circumstances have sometimes moved them to acts of magnanimity no one could reasonably have expected, we should not be surprised that at other times they have prompted deeds of a rather different kind.
Such exclusive companies, therefore, are nuisances in every respect: always more or less troublesome to the countries in which they are established, and ruinous to those unfortunate enough to come under their rule.
Book IV, Chapter VIII, 1
18th-century English
CONCLUSION OF THE MERCANTILE SYSTEM.
Though the encouragement of exportation, and the discouragement of importation, are the two great engines by which the mercantile system proposes to enrich every country, yet, with regard to some particular commodities, it seems to follow an opposite plan: to discourage exportation, and to encourage importation. Its ultimate object, however, it pretends, is always the same, to enrich the country by an advantageous balance of trade. It discourages the exportation of the materials of manufacture, and of the instruments of trade, in order to give our own workmen an advantage, and to enable them to undersell those of other nations in all foreign markets; and by restraining, in this manner, the exportation of a few commodities, of no great price, it proposes to occasion a much greater and more valuable exportation of others. It encourages the importation of the materials of manufacture, in order that our own people may be enabled to work them up more cheaply, and thereby prevent a greater and more valuable importation of the manufactured commodities. I do not observe, at least in our statute book, any encouragement given to the importation of the instruments of trade. When manufactures have advanced to a certain pitch of greatness, the fabrication of the instruments of trade becomes itself the object of a great number of very important manufactures. To give any particular encouragement to the importation of such instruments, would interfere too much with the interest of those manufactures. Such importation, therefore, instead of being encouraged, has frequently been prohibited. Thus the importation of wool cards, except from Ireland, or when brought in as wreck or prize goods, was prohibited by the 3rd of Edward IV.; which prohibition was renewed by the 39th of Elizabeth, and has been continued and rendered perpetual by subsequent laws.
The importation of the materials of manufacture has sometimes been encouraged by an exemption from the duties to which other goods are subject, and sometimes by bounties.
The importation of sheep’s wool from several different countries, of cotton wool from all countries, of undressed flax, of the greater part of dyeing drugs, of the greater part of undressed hides from Ireland, or the British colonies, of seal skins from the British Greenland fishery, of pig and bar iron from the British colonies, as well as of several other materials of manufacture, has been encouraged by an exemption from all duties, if properly entered at the custom-house. The private interest of our merchants and manufacturers may, perhaps, have extorted from the legislature these exemptions, as well as the greater part of our other commercial regulations. They are, however, perfectly just and reasonable; and if, consistently with the necessities of the state, they could be extended to all the other materials of manufacture, the public would certainly be a gainer.
The avidity of our great manufacturers, however, has in some cases extended these exemptions a good deal beyond what can justly be considered as the rude materials of their work. By the 24th Geo. II. chap. 46, a small duty of only 1d. the pound was imposed upon the importation of foreign brown linen yarn, instead of much higher duties, to which it had been subjected before, viz. of 6d. the pound upon sail yarn, of 1s. the pound upon all French and Dutch yarn, and of £2:13:4 upon the hundred weight of all spruce or Muscovia yarn. But our manufacturers were not long satisfied with this reduction: by the 29th of the same king, chap. 15, the same law which gave a bounty upon the exportation of British and Irish linen, of which the price did not exceed 18d. the yard, even this small duty upon the importation of brown linen yarn was taken away. In the different operations, however, which are necessary for the preparation of linen yarn, a good deal more industry is employed, than in the subsequent operation of preparing linen cloth from linen yarn. To say nothing of the industry of the flax-growers and flaxdressers, three or four spinners at least are necessary in order to keep one weaver in constant employment; and more than four-fifths of the whole quantity of labour necessary for the preparation of linen cloth, is employed in that of linen yarn; but our spinners are poor people; women commonly scattered about in all different parts of the country, without support or protection. It is not by the sale of their work, but by that of the complete work of the weavers, that our great master manufacturers make their profits. As it is their interest to sell the complete manufacture as dear, so it is to buy the materials as cheap as possible. By extorting from the legislature bounties upon the exportation of their own linen, high duties upon the importation of all foreign linen, and a total prohibition of the home consumption of some sorts of French linen, they endeavour to sell their own goods as dear as possible. By encouraging the importation of foreign linen yarn, and thereby bringing it into competition with that which is made by our own people, they endeavour to buy the work of the poor spinners as cheap as possible. They are as intent to keep down the wages of their own weavers, as the earnings of the poor spinners; and it is by no means for the benefit of the workmen that they endeavour either to raise the price of the complete work, or to lower that of the rude materials. It is the industry which is carried on for the benefit of the rich and the powerful, that is principally encouraged by our mercantile system. That which is carried on for the benefit of the poor and the indigent is too often either neglected or oppressed.
Both the bounty upon the exportation of linen, and the exemption from the duty upon the importation of foreign yarn, which were granted only for fifteen years, but continued by two different prolongations, expire with the end of the session of parliament which shall immediately follow the 24th of June 1786.
The encouragement given to the importation of the materials of manufacture by bounties, has been principally confined to such as were imported from our American plantations.
The first bounties of this kind were those granted about the beginning of the present century, upon the importation of naval stores from America. Under this denomination were comprehended timber fit for masts, yards, and bowsprits; hemp, tar, pitch, and turpentine. The bounty, however, of £1 the ton upon masting-timber, and that of £6 the ton upon hemp, were extended to such as should be imported into England from Scotland. Both these bounties continued, without any variation, at the same rate, till they were severally allowed to expire; that upon hemp on the 1st of January 1741, and that upon masting-timber at the end of the session of parliament immediately following the 24th June 1781.
The bounties upon the importation of tar, pitch, and turpentine, underwent, during their continuance, several alterations. Originally, that upon tar was £4 the ton; that upon pitch the same; and that upon turpentine £3 the ton. The bounty of £4 the ton upon tar was afterwards confined to such as had been prepared in a particular manner; that upon other good, clean, and merchantable tar was reduced to £2:4s. the ton. The bounty upon pitch was likewise reduced to £1, and that upon turpentine to £1:10s. the ton.
The second bounty upon the importation of any of the materials of manufacture, according to the order of time, was that granted by the 21st Geo. II. chap.30, upon the importation of indigo from the British plantations. When the plantation indigo was worth three-fourths of the price of the best French indigo, it was, by this act, entitled to a bounty of 6d. the pound. This bounty, which, like most others, was granted only for a limited time, was continued by several prolongations, but was reduced to 4d. the pound. It was allowed to expire with the end of the session of parliament which followed the 25th March 1781.
The third bounty of this kind was that granted (much about the time that we were beginning sometimes to court, and sometimes to quarrel with our American colonies), by the 4th. Geo. III. chap. 26, upon the importation of hemp, or undressed flax, from the British plantations. This bounty was granted for twenty-one years, from the 24th June 1764 to the 24th June 1785. For the first seven years, it was to be at the rate of £8 the ton; for the second at £6; and for the third at £4. It was not extended to Scotland, of which the climate (although hemp is sometimes raised there in small quantities, and of an inferior quality) is not very fit for that produce. Such a bounty upon the importation of Scotch flax in England would have been too great a discouragement to the native produce of the southern part of the united kingdom.
The fourth bounty of this kind was that granted by the 5th Geo. III. chap. 45, upon the importation of wood from America. It was granted for nine years from the 1st January 1766 to the 1st January 1775. During the first three years, it was to be for every hundred-and-twenty good deals, at the rate of £1, and for every load containing fifty cubic feet of other square timber, at the rate of 12s. For the second three years, it was for deals, to be at the rate of 15s., and for other squared timber at the rate of 8s.; and for the third three years, it was for deals, to be at the rate of 10s.; and for every other squared timber at the rate of 5s.
The fifth bounty of this kind was that granted by the 9th Geo. III. chap. 38, upon the importation of raw silk from the British plantations. It was granted for twenty-one years, from the 1st January 1770, to the 1st January 1791. For the first seven years, it was to be at the rate of £25 for every hundred pounds value; for the second, at £20; and for the third, at £15. The management of the silk-worm, and the preparation of silk, requires so much hand-labour, and labour is so very dear in America, that even this great bounty, I have been informed, was not likely to produce any considerable effect.
The sixth Bounty of this kind was that granted by 11th Geo. III. chap. 50, for the importation of pipe, hogshead, and barrelstaves and leading from the British plantations. It was granted for nine years, from 1st January 1772 to the 1st January 1781. For the first three years, it was, for a certain quantity of each, to be at the rate of £6; for the second three years at £4; and for the third three years at £2.
The seventh and last bounty of this kind was that granted by the 19th Geo. III chap. 37, upon the importation of hemp from Ireland. It was granted in the same manner as that for the importation of hemp and undressed flax from America, for twenty-one years, from the 24th June 1779 to the 24th June 1800. The term is divided likewise into three periods, of seven years each; and in each of those periods, the rate of the Irish bounty is the same with that of the American. It does not, however, like the American bounty, extend to the importation of undressed flax. It would have been too great a discouragement to the cultivation of that plant in Great Britain. When this last bounty was granted, the British and Irish legislatures were not in much better humour with one another, than the British and American had been before. But this boon to Ireland, it is to be hoped, has been granted under more fortunate auspices than all those to America. The same commodities, upon which we thus gave bounties, when imported from America, were subjected to considerable duties when imported from any other country. The interest of our American colonies was regarded as the same with that of the mother country. Their wealth was considered as our wealth. Whatever money was sent out to them, it was said, came all back to us by the balance of trade, and we could never become a farthing the poorer by any expense which we could lay out upon them. They were our own in every respect, and it was an expense laid out upon the improvement of our own property, and for the profitable employment of our own people. It is unnecessary, I apprehend, at present to say anything further, in order to expose the folly of a system which fatal experience has now sufficiently exposed. Had our American colonies really been a part of Great Britain, those bounties might have been considered as bounties upon production, and would still have been liable to all the objections to which such bounties are liable, but to no other.
The exportation of the materials of manufacture is sometimes discouraged by absolute prohibitions, and sometimes by high duties.
Our woollen manufacturers have been more successful than any other class of workmen, in persuading the legislature that the prosperity of the nation depended upon the success and extension of their particular business. They have not only obtained a monopoly against the consumers, by an absolute prohibition of importing woollen cloths from any foreign country; but they have likewise obtained another monopoly against the sheep farmers and growers of wool, by a similar prohibition of the exportation of live sheep and wool. The severity of many of the laws which have been enacted for the security of the revenue is very justly complained of, as imposing heavy penalties upon actions which, antecedent to the statutes that declared them to be crimes, had always been understood to be innocent. But the cruellest of our revenue laws, I will venture to affirm, are mild and gentle, in comparison to some of those which the clamour of our merchants and manufacturers has extorted from the legislature, for the support of their own absurd and oppressive monopolies. Like the laws of Draco, these laws may be said to be all written in blood.
By the 8th of Elizabeth, chap. 3, the exporter of sheep, lambs, or rams, was for the first offence, to forfeit all his goods for ever, to suffer a year’s imprisonment, and then to have his left hand cut off in a market town, upon a market day, to be there nailed up; and for the second offence, to be adjudged a felon, and to suffer death accordingly. To prevent the breed of our sheep from being propagated in foreign countries, seems to have been the object of this law. By the 13th and 14th of Charles II. chap. 18, the exportation of wool was made felony, and the exporter subjected to the same penalties and forfeitures as a felon.
For the honour of the national humanity, it is to be hoped that neither of these statutes was ever executed. The first of them, however, so far as I know, has never been directly repealed, and serjeant Hawkins seems to consider it as still in force. It may, however, perhaps be considered as virtually repealed by the 12th of Charles II. chap. 32, sect. 3, which, without expressly taking away the penalties imposed by former statutes, imposes a new penalty, viz. that of 20s. for every sheep exported, or attempted to be exported, together with the forfeiture of the sheep, and of the owner’s share of the sheep. The second of them was expressly repealed by the 7th and 8th of William III. chap. 28, sect. 4, by which it is declared that “Whereas the statute of the 13th and 14th of king Charles II. made against the exportation of wool, among other things in the said act mentioned, doth enact the same to be deemed felony, by the severity of which penalty the prosecution of offenders hath not been so effectually put in execution; be it therefore enacted, by the authority aforesaid, that so much of the said act, which relates to the making the said offence felony, be repealed and made void.”
English
CONCLUSION OF THE MERCANTILE SYSTEM.
Although encouraging exports and discouraging imports are the two great engines by which the mercantile system proposes to enrich every country, for certain goods it appears to follow the opposite policy: discouraging exports and encouraging imports. Yet it claims that its ultimate goal is always the same—to enrich the country through a favorable balance of trade. It discourages the export of materials used in manufacturing and of the tools of trade, to give our own workers an advantage and enable them to undersell workers from other nations in every foreign market. By restricting the export of a few goods of little value, it proposes to bring about much larger and more valuable exports of other goods. It encourages the import of materials used in manufacturing so that our people may work them up more cheaply and thus prevent a larger, more valuable import of finished goods. I find, at least in our statute book, no encouragement for importing the tools of trade. Once manufacturing reaches a certain scale, making those tools itself becomes the business of many important manufactures. Any special encouragement for importing such tools would interfere too much with those manufacturers’ interests. Such imports, therefore, rather than being encouraged, have often been prohibited. Thus the 3rd of Edward IV. prohibited the import of wool cards, except from Ireland or as goods recovered from wrecks or taken as prizes. The 39th of Elizabeth renewed that prohibition, and later laws have kept it in force permanently.
The import of materials used in manufacturing has sometimes been encouraged by exemption from duties imposed on other goods, and sometimes by bounties.
Sheep’s wool from several countries, cotton wool from every country, undressed flax, most dyeing materials, most undressed hides from Ireland or the British colonies, seal skins from the British Greenland fishery, pig and bar iron from the British colonies, and various other manufacturing materials have been encouraged through exemption from all duties, provided they are properly declared at the custom-house. The private interests of our merchants and manufacturers may perhaps have wrung these exemptions from the legislature, as they have most of our other commercial regulations. Yet the exemptions are entirely just and reasonable. If they could be extended to all other manufacturing materials without conflicting with the needs of the state, the public would certainly gain.
In some cases, however, the greed of our great manufacturers has extended these exemptions well beyond what can fairly be called the raw materials of their work. The 24th Geo. II. chap. 46 imposed a small duty of only 1d. the pound on imports of foreign brown linen yarn, replacing far higher earlier duties: 6d. the pound on sail yarn, 1s. the pound on all French and Dutch yarn, and £2:13:4 on the hundred weight of all spruce or Muscovia yarn. But our manufacturers were not long satisfied with this reduction. Under the 29th of the same king, chap. 15—the very law that granted a bounty on exports of British and Irish linen priced at no more than 18d. the yard—even that small duty on imported brown linen yarn was abolished. Yet the various operations needed to prepare linen yarn employ considerably more labor than the later operation of making linen cloth from the yarn. Even setting aside the work of flax growers and flax dressers, it takes at least three or four spinners to keep one weaver constantly employed; more than four-fifths of all the labor needed to make linen cloth goes into preparing the yarn. Our spinners, however, are poor people, usually women scattered across all parts of the country, without backing or protection. Our great master manufacturers earn their profits not from selling the spinners’ work but from selling the weavers’ finished cloth. Just as it is in their interest to sell the finished product as dearly as possible, it is in their interest to buy its materials as cheaply as possible. By wringing from the legislature bounties for exporting their own linen, high duties on all imported foreign linen, and a total ban on the domestic consumption of certain French linens, they strive to sell their own goods at the highest possible price. By encouraging imports of foreign linen yarn, bringing it into competition with yarn made by our own people, they seek to buy the poor spinners’ work for as little as possible. They are as determined to hold down their own weavers’ wages as they are the poor spinners’ earnings. They seek neither to raise the price of finished work nor to lower the price of raw materials for the workers’ benefit. Our mercantile system chiefly favors industry carried on for the benefit of the rich and powerful. Industry carried on for the benefit of the poor and needy is too often neglected or oppressed.
Both the bounty on linen exports and the exemption from duty on imported foreign yarn, originally granted for only fifteen years but extended twice, expire at the close of the parliamentary session immediately following the 24th of June 1786.
Bounties to encourage imports of manufacturing materials have been confined chiefly to materials imported from our American plantations.
The first bounties of this kind were granted around the beginning of the present century on imports of naval stores from America. That category included timber suitable for masts, yards, and bowsprits; hemp, tar, pitch, and turpentine. The bounty of £1 the ton on mast timber and the bounty of £6 the ton on hemp were also extended to imports into England from Scotland. Both continued unchanged at the same rates until they were separately allowed to expire: the hemp bounty on the 1st of January 1741, and the mast-timber bounty at the end of the parliamentary session immediately following the 24th June 1781.
The bounties on imported tar, pitch, and turpentine underwent several changes while they remained in force. Originally the bounty was £4 the ton for tar, the same for pitch, and £3 the ton for turpentine. The £4 the ton bounty for tar was later restricted to tar prepared in a particular way; the bounty on other good, clean, marketable tar was cut to £2:4s. the ton. The bounty on pitch was likewise cut to £1, and that on turpentine to £1:10s. the ton.
The second bounty for importing a manufacturing material, in chronological order, was granted by the 21st Geo. II. chap.30, for indigo imported from the British plantations. Under that act, plantation indigo worth three-fourths the price of the best French indigo qualified for a bounty of 6d. the pound. Like most bounties, this one was granted for a limited period. It was extended several times but reduced to 4d. the pound, and was allowed to expire with the end of the parliamentary session following the 25th March 1781.
The third bounty of this kind was granted—at about the time we were beginning alternately to court and quarrel with our American colonies—by the 4th. Geo. III. chap. 26, for hemp or undressed flax imported from the British plantations. It was granted for twenty-one years, from the 24th June 1764 to the 24th June 1785. For the first seven years it was to be £8 the ton; for the second seven, £6; and for the third seven, £4. It was not extended to Scotland, whose climate is poorly suited to hemp, although hemp is sometimes grown there in small amounts and of inferior quality. Such a bounty on Scottish flax imported into England would have discouraged the native crop of the southern part of the united kingdom too severely.
The fourth bounty of this kind was granted by the 5th Geo. III. chap. 45, for wood imported from America. It was granted for nine years, from the 1st January 1766 to the 1st January 1775. During the first three years, the rate was £1 for every hundred-and-twenty good deals, and 12s. for every load containing fifty cubic feet of other squared timber. For the second three years, the rate was 15s. for deals and 8s. for other squared timber; for the third three years, 10s. for deals and 5s. for every other squared timber.
The fifth bounty of this kind was granted by the 9th Geo. III. chap. 38, for raw silk imported from the British plantations. It was granted for twenty-one years, from the 1st January 1770 to the 1st January 1791. For the first seven years, its rate was £25 for every hundred pounds value; for the second, £20; and for the third, £15. Raising silkworms and preparing silk require so much hand labor, and labor is so expensive in America, that I have been told even this large bounty was unlikely to have any considerable effect.
The sixth bounty of this kind was granted by 11th Geo. III. chap. 50, for pipe, hogshead, and barrel staves and heading imported from the British plantations. It was granted for nine years, from 1st January 1772 to the 1st January 1781. For the first three years, it was to be £6 for a specified quantity of each; for the second three years, £4; and for the third three years, £2.
The seventh and last bounty of this kind was granted by the 19th Geo. III chap. 37, for hemp imported from Ireland. Like the bounty for hemp and undressed flax from America, it was granted for twenty-one years, from the 24th June 1779 to the 24th June 1800. Its term is likewise divided into three seven-year periods, and in each period the Irish bounty has the same rate as the American one. Unlike the American bounty, however, it does not cover imports of undressed flax. That would have discouraged cultivation of the plant in Great Britain too severely. When this last bounty was granted, the British and Irish legislatures were hardly on better terms than the British and American legislatures had been earlier. But this benefit to Ireland, one hopes, was granted under more fortunate circumstances than all the benefits granted to America. The very goods for which we thus paid bounties when imported from America faced substantial duties when imported from anywhere else. The interest of our American colonies was treated as identical to that of the mother country. Their wealth was counted as our wealth. Any money sent to them, it was said, came back to us in full through the balance of trade, and no amount spent on them could make us a farthing poorer. They belonged to us in every respect, and this expense was laid out to improve our own property and profitably employ our own people. I think it unnecessary now to say more to expose the folly of a system that disastrous experience has sufficiently exposed already. If our American colonies really had been part of Great Britain, these bounties might have been regarded as bounties on production; they would still have faced every objection applicable to such bounties, though no others.
The export of manufacturing materials is sometimes discouraged by outright prohibitions and sometimes by high duties.
Our woolen manufacturers have been more successful than any other class of workers in convincing the legislature that the nation’s prosperity depends on the success and expansion of their particular trade. They have not only obtained a monopoly against consumers through a complete ban on the import of woolen cloth from any foreign country; they have also obtained a second monopoly against sheep farmers and wool growers through a similar ban on the export of live sheep and wool. People rightly complain that many laws enacted to protect revenue impose severe penalties for acts that were always understood to be innocent before statutes declared them crimes. But I venture to say that the cruelest of our revenue laws are mild and gentle beside some of the laws our merchants and manufacturers have clamored for and wrung from the legislature to support their absurd and oppressive monopolies. Like the laws of Draco, these laws might be said to have been written entirely in blood.
Under the 8th of Elizabeth, chap. 3, a person exporting sheep, lambs, or rams was, for a first offense, to forfeit all his goods forever, spend a year in prison, and then have his left hand cut off in a market town on a market day and nailed up there. For a second offense he was to be convicted as a felon and put to death. The law appears to have aimed at preventing the breeding of our sheep in foreign countries. Under the 13th and 14th of Charles II. chap. 18, exporting wool became a felony, exposing the exporter to the same penalties and forfeitures as a felon.
For the honor of the nation’s humanity, we must hope that neither statute was ever enforced. The first, however, has never, to my knowledge, been expressly repealed, and serjeant Hawkins seems to regard it as still in force. It might perhaps be regarded as implicitly repealed by the 12th of Charles II. chap. 32, sect. 3. That statute, without expressly removing the penalties imposed by earlier statutes, establishes a new penalty: 20s. for each sheep exported or sought to be exported, together with forfeiture of the sheep and the owner’s share in it. The second statute was expressly repealed by the 7th and 8th of William III. chap. 28, sect. 4, which declares: “Whereas the statute of the 13th and 14th of king Charles II. made against the exportation of wool, among other things in the said act mentioned, enacts the same to be deemed felony, by the severity of which penalty the prosecution of offenders has not been so effectually put in execution; be it therefore enacted, by the authority aforesaid, that so much of the said act, which relates to the making the said offense felony, be repealed and made void.”
Book IV, Chapter VIII, 2
18th-century English
The penalties, however, which are either imposed by this milder statute, or which, though imposed by former statutes, are not repealed by this one, are still sufficiently severe. Besides the forfeiture of the goods, the exporter incurs the penalty of 3s. for every pound weight of wool, either exported or attempted to be exported, that is, about four or five times the value. Any merchant, or other person convicted of this offence, is disabled from requiring any debt or account belonging to him from any factor or other person. Let his fortune be what it will, whether he is or is not able to pay those heavy penalties, the law means to ruin him completely. But, as the morals of the great body of the people are not yet so corrupt as those of the contrivers of this statute, I have not heard that any advantage has ever been taken of this clause. If the person convicted of this offence is not able to pay the penalties within three months after judgment, he is to be transported for seven years; and if he returns before the expiration of that term, he is liable to the pains of felony, without benefit of clergy. The owner of the ship, knowing this offence, forfeits all his interest in the ship and furniture. The master and mariners, knowing this offence, forfeit all their goods and chattels, and suffer three months imprisonment. By a subsequent statute, the master suffers six months imprisonment.
In order to prevent exportation, the whole inland commerce of wool is laid under very burdensome and oppressive restrictions. It cannot be packed in any box, barrel, cask, case, chest, or any other package, but only in packs of leather or pack-cloth, on which must be marked on the outside the words WOOL or YARN, in large letters, not less than three inches long, on pain of forfeiting the same and the package, and 8s. for every pound weight, to be paid by the owner or packer. It cannot be loaden on any horse or cart, or carried by land within five miles of the coast, but between sun-rising, and sun-setting, on pain of forfeiting the same, the horses and carriages. The hundred next adjoining to the sea coast, out of, or through which the wool is carried or exported, forfeits £20, if the wool is under the value of £10; and if of greater value, then treble that value, together with treble costs, to be sued for within the year. The execution to be against any two of the inhabitants, whom the sessions must reimburse, by an assessment on the other inhabitants, as in the cases of robbery. And if any person compounds with the hundred for less than this penalty, he is to be imprisoned for five years; and any other person may prosecute. These regulations take place through the whole kingdom.
But in the particular counties of Kent and Sussex, the restrictions are still more troublesome. Every owner of wool within ten miles of the sea coast must give an account in writing, three days after shearing, to the next officer of the customs, of the number of his fleeces, and of the places where they are lodged. And before he removes any part of them, he must give the like notice of the number and weight of the fleeces, and of the name and abode of the person to whom they are sold, and of the place to which it is intended they should be carried. No person within fifteen miles of the sea, in the said counties, can buy any wool, before he enters into bond to the king, that no part of the wool which he shall so buy shall be sold by him to any other person within fifteen miles of the sea. If any wool is found carrying towards the sea side in the said counties, unless it has been entered and security given as aforesaid, it is forfeited, and the offender also forfeits 3s. for every pound weight, if any person lay any wool, not entered as aforesaid, within fifteen miles of the sea, it must be seized and forfeited; and if, after such seizure, any person shall claim the same, he must give security to the exchequer, that if he is cast upon trial he shall pay treble costs, besides all other penalties.
When such restrictions are imposed upon the inland trade, the coasting trade, we may believe, cannot be left very free. Every owner of wool, who carrieth, or causeth to be carried, any wool to any port or place on the sea coast, in order to be from thence transported by sea to any other place or port on the coast, must first cause an entry thereof to be made at the port from whence it is intended to be conveyed, containing the weight, marks, and number, of the packages, before he brings the same within five miles of that port, on pain of forfeiting the same, and also the horses, carts, and other carriages; and also of suffering and forfeiting, as by the other laws in force against the exportation of wool. This law, however (1st of William III. chap. 32), is so very indulgent as to declare, that this shall not hinder any person from carrying his wool home from the place of shearing, though it be within five miles of the sea, provided that in ten days after shearing, and before he remove the wool, he do under his hand certify to the next officer of the customs the true number of fleeces, and where it is housed; and do not remove the same, without certifying to such officer, under his hand, his intention so to do, three days before. Bond must be given that the wool to be carried coast-ways is to be landed at the particular port for which it is entered outwards; and if my part of it is landed without the presence of an officer, not only the forfeiture of the wool is incurred, as in other goods, but the usual additional penalty of 3s. for every pound weight is likewise incurred.
Our woollen manufacturers, in order to justify their demand of such extraordinary restrictions and regulations, confidently asserted, that English wool was of a peculiar quality, superior to that of any other country; that the wool of other countries could not, without some mixture of it, be wrought up into any tolerable manufacture; that fine cloth could not be made without it; that England, therefore, if the exportation of it could be totally prevented, could monopolize to herself almost the whole woollen trade of the world; and thus, having no rivals, could sell at what price she pleased, and in a short time acquire the most incredible degree of wealth by the most advantageous balance of trade. This doctrine, like most other doctrines which are confidently asserted by any considerable number of people, was, and still continues to be, most implicitly believed by a much greater number: by almost all those who are either unacquainted with the woollen trade, or who have not made particular inquiries. It is, however, so perfectly false, that English wool is in any respect necessary for the making of fine cloth, that it is altogether unfit for it. Fine cloth is made altogether of Spanish wool. English wool, cannot be even so mixed with Spanish wool, as to enter into the composition without spoiling and degrading, in some degree, the fabric of the cloth.
It has been shown in the foregoing part of this work, that the effect of these regulations has been to depress the price of English wool, not only below what it naturally would be in the present times, but very much below what it actually was in the time of Edward III. The price of Scotch wool, when, in consequence of the Union, it became subject to the same regulations, is said to have fallen about one half. It is observed by the very accurate and intelligent author of the Memoirs of Wool, the Reverend Mr John Smith, that the price of the best English wool in England, is generally below what wool of a very inferior quality commonly sells for in the market of Amsterdam. To depress the price of this commodity below what may be called its natural and proper price, was the avowed purpose of those regulations; and there seems to be no doubt of their having produced the effect that was expected from them.
This reduction of price, it may perhaps be thought, by discouraging the growing of wool, must have reduced very much the annual produce of that commodity, though not below what it formerly was, yet below what, in the present state of things, it would probably have been, had it, in consequence of an open and free market, been allowed to rise to the natural and proper price. I am, however, disposed to believe, that the quantity of the annual produce cannot have been much, though it may, perhaps, have been a little affected by these regulations. The growing of wool is not the chief purpose for which the sheep farmer employs his industry and stock. He expects his profit, not so much from the price of the fleece, as from that of the carcase; and the average or ordinary price of the latter must even, in many cases, make up to him whatever deficiency there may be in the average or ordinary price of the former. It has been observed, in the foregoing part of this work, that ‘whatever regulations tend to sink the price, either of wool or of raw hides, below what it naturally would be, must, in an improved and cultivated country, have some tendency to raise the price of butcher’s meat. The price, both of the great and small cattle which are fed on improved and cultivated land, must be sufficient to pay the rent which the landlord, and the profit which the farmer, has reason to expect from improved and cultivated land. If it is not, they will soon cease to feed them. Whatever part of this price, therefore, is not paid by the wool and the hide, must be paid by the carcase. The less there is paid for the one, the more must be paid for the other. In what manner this price is to be divided upon the different parts of the beast, is indifferent to the landlords and farmers, provided it is all paid to them. In an improved and cultivated country, therefore, their interest as landlords and farmers cannot be much affected by such regulations, though their interest as consumers may, by the rise in the price of provisions.’ According to this reasoning, therefore, this degradation in the price of wool is not likely, in an improved and cultivated country, to occasion any diminution in the annual produce of that commodity; except so far as, by raising the price of mutton, it may somewhat diminish the demand for, and consequently the production of, that particular species of butcher’s meat, Its effect, however, even in this way, it is probable, is not very considerable.
But though its effect upon the quantity of the annual produce may not have been very considerable, its effect upon the quality, it may perhaps be thought, must necessarily have been very great. The degradation in the quality of English wool, if not below what it was in former times, yet below what it naturally would have been in the present state of improvement and cultivation, must have been, it may perhaps be supposed, very nearly in proportion to the degradation of price. As the quality depends upon the breed, upon the pasture, and upon the management and cleanliness of the sheep, during the whole progress of the growth of the fleece, the attention to these circumstances, it may naturally enough be imagined, can never be greater than in proportion to the recompence which the price of the fleece is likely to make for the labour and expense which that attention requires. It happens, however, that the goodness of the fleece depends, in a great measure, upon the health, growth, and bulk of the animal: the same attention which is necessary for the improvement of the carcase is, in some respect, sufficient for that of the fleece. Notwithstanding the degradation of price, English wool is said to have been improved considerably during the course even of the present century. The improvement, might, perhaps, have been greater if the price had been better; but the lowness of price, though it may have obstructed, yet certainly it has not altogether prevented that improvement.
The violence of these regulations, therefore, seems to have affected neither the quantity nor the quality of the annual produce of wool, so much as it might have been expected to do (though I think it probable that it may have affected the latter a good deal more than the former); and the interest of the growers of wool, though it must have been hurt in some degree, seems upon the whole, to have been much less hurt than could well have been imagined.
These considerations, however, will not justify the absolute prohibition of the exportation of wool; but they will fully justify the imposition of a considerable tax upon that exportation.
To hurt, in any degree, the interest of any one order of citizens, for no other purpose but to promote that of some other, is evidently contrary to that justice and equality of treatment which the sovereign owes to all the different orders of his subjects. But the prohibition certainly hurts, in some degree, the interest of the growers of wool, for no other purpose but to promote that of the manufacturers.
Every different order of citizens is bound to contribute to the support of the sovereign or commonwealth. A tax of five, or even of ten shillings, upon the exportation of every tod of wool, would produce a very considerable revenue to the sovereign. It would hurt the interest of the growers somewhat less than the prohibition, because it would not probably lower the price of wool quite so much. It would afford a sufficient advantage to the manufacturer, because, though he might not buy his wool altogether so cheap as under the prohibition, he would still buy it at least five or ten shillings cheaper than any foreign manufacturer could buy it, besides saving the freight and insurance which the other would be obliged to pay. It is scarce possible to devise a tax which could produce any considerable revenue to the sovereign, and at the same time occasion so little inconveniency to anybody.
The prohibition, notwithstanding all the penalties which guard it, does not prevent the exportation of wool. It is exported, it is well known, in great quantities. The great difference between the price in the home and that in the foreign market, presents such a temptation to smuggling, that all the rigour of the law cannot prevent it. This illegal exportation is advantageous to nobody but the smuggler. A legal exportation, subject to a tax, by affording a revenue to the sovereign, and thereby saving the imposition of some other, perhaps more burdensome and inconvenient taxes, might prove advantageous to all the different subjects of the state.
The exportation of fuller’s earth, or fuller’s clay, supposed to be necessary for preparing and cleansing the woollen manufactures, has been subjected to nearly the same penalties as the exportation of wool. Even tobacco-pipe clay, though acknowledged to be different from fuller’s clay, yet, on account of their resemblance, and because fuller’s clay might sometimes be exported as tobacco-pipe clay, has been laid under the same prohibitions and penalties.
By the 13th and 14th of Charles II. chap, 7, the exportation, not only of raw hides, but of tanned leather, except in the shape of boots, shoes, or slippers, was prohibited; and the law gave a monopoly to our boot-makers and shoe-makers, not only against our graziers, but against our tanners. By subsequent statutes, our tanners have got themselves exempted from this monopoly, upon paying a small tax of only one shilling on the hundred weight of tanned leather, weighing one hundred and twelve pounds. They have obtained likewise the drawback of two-thirds of the excise duties imposed upon their commodity, even when exported without further manufacture. All manufactures of leather may be exported duty free; and the exporter is besides entitled to the drawback of the whole duties of excise. Our graziers still continue subject to the old monopoly. Graziers, separated from one another, and dispersed through all the different corners of the country, cannot, without great difficulty, combine together for the purpose either of imposing monopolies upon their fellow-citizens, or of exempting themselves from such as may have been imposed upon them by other people. Manufacturers of all kinds, collected together in numerous bodies in all great cities, easily can. Even the horns of cattle are prohibited to be exported; and the two insignificant trades of the horner and comb-maker enjoy, in this respect, a monopoly against the graziers.
English
The penalties, however, imposed by this milder statute, or imposed by earlier statutes and left intact by this one, remain severe enough. Besides forfeiting the goods, the exporter incurs a penalty of 3s. for every pound weight of wool exported or attempted to be exported—about four or five times its value. Any merchant or other person convicted of this offense loses the right to collect any debt or account owed to him by any factor or other person. Whatever his fortune, whether he can pay those heavy penalties or not, the law intends to ruin him utterly. But the morals of the great body of the people are not yet so corrupt as those of the authors of this statute, and I have not heard of anyone ever taking advantage of this clause. If the convicted person cannot pay the penalties within three months after judgment, he is to be transported for seven years; if he returns before that term expires, he is liable to the penalties for felony, without benefit of clergy. The owner of the ship, if aware of the offense, forfeits his entire interest in the ship and its equipment. The master and sailors, if aware of the offense, forfeit all their goods and possessions and suffer three months' imprisonment. Under a later statute the master suffers six months' imprisonment.
To prevent exportation, the whole inland trade in wool is subjected to burdensome and oppressive restrictions. Wool may not be packed in a box, barrel, cask, case, chest, or any other container, but only in packs of leather or packing cloth, with the words WOOL or YARN marked on the outside in large letters not less than three inches long; otherwise the wool and its package are forfeited, and the owner or packer must pay 8s. for every pound weight. It may not be loaded onto a horse or cart or carried overland within five miles of the coast except between sunrise and sunset, on pain of forfeiting both wool and horses and carriages. The hundred adjoining the coast from or through which the wool is carried or exported forfeits £20 if the wool is worth less than £10; if it is worth more, it forfeits three times that value, together with three times the costs, in an action brought within the year. The judgment may be enforced against any two inhabitants, whom the local court must reimburse through an assessment on the others, as in cases of robbery. If anyone settles with the hundred for less than this penalty, he is to be imprisoned for five years; any other person may prosecute. These rules apply throughout the kingdom.
But in Kent and Sussex in particular, the restrictions are even more troublesome. Every owner of wool within ten miles of the coast must, within three days after shearing, give the nearest customs officer a written account of the number of his fleeces and where they are stored. Before moving any of them, he must likewise report the number and weight of the fleeces, the name and residence of the person to whom they are sold, and their intended destination. No one within fifteen miles of the sea in those counties may buy wool before giving the king a bond that he will sell none of the wool he buys to anyone else within fifteen miles of the sea. If wool is found being carried toward the sea in those counties without the required entry and security, it is forfeited, and the offender forfeits 3s. for every pound weight. If anyone stores wool that has not been entered as required within fifteen miles of the sea, it must be seized and forfeited; and if anyone claims it after seizure, he must give the exchequer security that, if he loses at trial, he will pay three times the costs, besides all other penalties.
With restrictions like these imposed on inland trade, we may well suppose that coastal trade is not left very free. Every owner who carries wool, or has it carried, to a coastal port or place for transport by sea to another coastal port or place must first register it at the port of departure, recording the weight, marks, and number of packages, before bringing it within five miles of that port; otherwise the wool, horses, carts, and other carriages are forfeited, and he also incurs the penalties laid down by other laws against the exportation of wool. Yet this law (1st of William III. chap. 32) is so exceedingly indulgent as to declare that it does not prevent anyone from carrying wool home from the place of shearing, even within five miles of the sea, provided that within ten days after shearing and before moving it he gives the nearest customs officer a signed statement of the true number of fleeces and where they are housed, and does not move them without giving that officer three days' prior signed notice of his intention. A bond must be given to ensure that wool carried along the coast is landed at the particular port declared on its outward entry; if any part is landed without an officer present, not only is the wool forfeited, as with other goods, but the usual additional penalty of 3s. for every pound weight is incurred as well.
To justify their demand for such extraordinary restrictions and rules, our wool manufacturers confidently asserted that English wool had a peculiar quality superior to that of every other country; that the wool of other countries could not be worked into any tolerable fabric without some admixture of it; that fine cloth could not be made without it; and that England, if its exportation could be completely prevented, could thus monopolize almost the whole wool trade of the world, sell at whatever price she pleased for lack of rivals, and rapidly acquire an incredible degree of wealth through the most favorable balance of trade. Like most doctrines confidently asserted by a considerable number of people, this was, and still is, implicitly believed by a far greater number: almost everyone unacquainted with the wool trade or who has not made particular inquiries into it. Yet so far from being necessary in any respect to make fine cloth, English wool is wholly unsuited to it. Fine cloth is made entirely of Spanish wool. English wool cannot even be mixed with Spanish wool without to some degree spoiling and lowering the quality of the fabric.
It has been shown earlier in this work that these regulations have depressed the price of English wool, not only below its natural level today but far below the price it actually fetched in the time of Edward III. When Scotch wool became subject to the same regulations following the Union, its price is said to have fallen by about half. The very accurate and perceptive author of the Memoirs of Wool, the Reverend Mr John Smith, observes that the best English wool in England generally sells for less than wool of much poorer quality ordinarily fetches in the Amsterdam market. The avowed purpose of these regulations was to depress this commodity's price below what might be called its natural and proper level; there seems no doubt that they achieved their intended effect.
It might be thought that this lowering of price, by discouraging the raising of wool, must have greatly reduced its annual output—not below its former level, perhaps, but below what it would probably be today if an open and free market had allowed the price to rise to its natural and proper level. I am inclined to believe, however, that these regulations can have affected annual output only a little, if at all. Wool is not the principal object for which the sheep farmer employs his industry and stock. He expects his profit less from the fleece than from the carcass; and the latter's average or ordinary price must in many cases make good any deficiency in the former's average or ordinary price. It has been observed earlier in this work that "whatever regulations tend to lower the price of wool or raw hides below its natural level must, in an improved and cultivated country, tend in some measure to raise the price of meat. The price of both large and small livestock raised on improved and cultivated land must suffice to pay the rent the landlord and the profit the farmer can reasonably expect from such land. Otherwise they will soon stop raising the animals. Whatever part of that price is not paid for by wool and hide must therefore be paid for by the carcass. The less is paid for one, the more must be paid for the other. How the price is divided among the different parts of the animal is immaterial to landlords and farmers, provided they receive it all. In an improved and cultivated country, therefore, such regulations can have little effect on their interests as landlords and farmers, though the resulting rise in food prices may affect their interests as consumers." On this reasoning, then, the decline in the price of wool is unlikely, in an improved and cultivated country, to reduce its annual output, except insofar as a rise in the price of mutton might somewhat diminish demand for, and consequently production of, that particular kind of meat. Even in this way, however, its effect is probably not very considerable.
But though its effect on the quantity of annual output may not have been very considerable, it might be thought that its effect on quality must necessarily have been great. The decline in the quality of English wool—not necessarily below its former quality, but below what it would naturally have attained in the present state of improvement and cultivation—might be supposed to be almost proportional to the decline in its price. Quality depends on breed, pasture, and the care and cleanliness of the sheep throughout the fleece's growth; and one might naturally imagine that attention to these things could never be greater than the reward the fleece's price is likely to offer for the labor and expense required. It happens, however, that the quality of the fleece depends largely on the health, growth, and size of the animal: the same attention needed to improve the carcass also goes some way toward improving the fleece. Despite the decline in price, English wool is said to have improved considerably even during the present century. Improvement might perhaps have been greater had the price been better; but while the low price may have hindered it, it certainly has not prevented it altogether.
The severity of these regulations, therefore, seems to have affected neither the quantity nor the quality of the annual output of wool as much as might have been expected (though I think it likely that it has affected quality a good deal more than quantity); and while the interests of wool growers must have suffered to some extent, on the whole they seem to have suffered much less than one could readily have imagined.
These considerations will not, however, justify an absolute ban on wool exports; they will fully justify a substantial tax on those exports.
To injure the interests of one order of citizens, even slightly, solely to advance those of another is plainly contrary to the justice and equal treatment the sovereign owes every order of his subjects. Yet the prohibition certainly injures the wool growers to some extent for no purpose except to benefit the manufacturers.
Every order of citizens is obliged to contribute to the support of the sovereign or commonwealth. A tax of five or even ten shillings on the export of every tod of wool would yield the sovereign a substantial revenue. It would injure the growers somewhat less than the prohibition, since it would probably not lower wool's price quite so much. It would still give the manufacturer a sufficient advantage: although he might not buy his wool quite as cheaply as under the prohibition, he would buy it at least five or ten shillings cheaper than any foreign manufacturer could, while also saving the freight and insurance the latter must pay. It is scarcely possible to devise a tax that would raise any considerable revenue for the sovereign while causing so little inconvenience to anyone.
Despite all the penalties that enforce it, the prohibition does not prevent the export of wool. Wool is, as everyone knows, exported in great quantities. The great difference between prices at home and abroad offers such an inducement to smuggling that all the rigor of the law cannot stop it. This illicit export benefits no one but the smuggler. Legal exports subject to a tax, by providing revenue to the sovereign and thus saving the imposition of other, perhaps more burdensome and inconvenient taxes, could benefit every order of the state's subjects.
The export of fuller's earth, or fuller's clay, thought necessary for preparing and cleaning woolen fabrics, has been subjected to nearly the same penalties as that of wool. Even tobacco-pipe clay, though acknowledged to be different from fuller's clay, has been subjected to the same prohibitions and penalties because of their resemblance and the possibility that fuller's clay might sometimes be exported under its name.
Under the 13th and 14th of Charles II. chap, 7, the export of not only raw hides but also tanned leather, except in the form of boots, shoes, or slippers, was prohibited; the law gave our bootmakers and shoemakers a monopoly at the expense not only of our graziers but of our tanners. Later statutes allowed our tanners to exempt themselves from this monopoly on payment of a small tax of only one shilling per hundredweight of tanned leather, weighing one hundred and twelve pounds. They also obtained a drawback of two-thirds of the excise duties imposed on their product, even when exported without further manufacture. Leather manufactures of every kind may be exported duty free, and the exporter is also entitled to a drawback of the entire excise duty. Our graziers remain subject to the old monopoly. Scattered apart from one another throughout every corner of the country, graziers cannot readily combine either to impose monopolies on their fellow citizens or to free themselves from those others have imposed on them. Manufacturers of every kind, gathered in large groups in all the great cities, can do so easily. Even the export of cattle horns is prohibited; in this respect the two insignificant trades of the horn worker and the comb maker enjoy a monopoly at the graziers' expense.
Book IV, Chapter VIII, 3
18th-century English
Restraints, either by prohibitions, or by taxes, upon the exportation of goods which are partially, but not completely manufactured, are not peculiar to the manufacture of leather. As long as anything remains to be done, in order to fit any commodity for immediate use and consumption, our manufacturers think that they themselves ought to have the doing of it. Woollen yarn and worsted are prohibited to be exported, under the same penalties as wool even white cloths we subject to a duty upon exportation; and our dyers have so far obtained a monopoly against our clothiers. Our clothiers would probably have been able to defend themselves against it; but it happens that the greater part of our principal clothiers are themselves likewise dyers. Watch-cases, clock-cases, and dial-plates for clocks and watches, have been prohibited to be exported. Our clock-makers and watch-makers are, it seems, unwilling that the price of this sort of workmanship should be raised upon them by the competition of foreigners.
By some old statutes of Edward III, Henry VIII. and Edward VI. the exportation of all metals was prohibited. Lead and tin were alone excepted, probably on account of the great abundance of those metals; in the exportation of which a considerable part of the trade of the kingdom in those days consisted. For the encouragement of the mining trade, the 5th of William and Mary, chap.17, exempted from this prohibition iron, copper, and mundic metal made from British ore. The exportation of all sorts of copper bars, foreign as well as British, was afterwards permitted by the 9th and 10th of William III. chap 26. The exportation of unmanufactured brass, of what is called gun-metal, bell-metal, and shroff metal, still continues to be prohibited. Brass manufactures of all sorts may be exported duty free.
The exportation of the materials of manufacture, where it is not altogether prohibited, is, in many cases, subjected to considerable duties.
By the 8th Geo. I. chap.15, the exportation of all goods, the produce of manufacture of Great Britain, upon which any duties had been imposed by former statutes, was rendered duty free. The following goods, however, were excepted: alum, lead, lead-ore, tin, tanned leather, copperas, coals, wool, cards, white woollen cloths, lapis calaminaris, skins of all sorts, glue, coney hair or wool, hares wool, hair of all sorts, horses, and litharge of lead. If you except horses, all these are either materials of manufacture, or incomplete manufactures (which may be considered as materials for still further manufacture), or instruments of trade. This statute leaves them subject to all the old duties which had ever been imposed upon them, the old subsidy, and one per cent. outwards.
By the same statute, a great number of foreign drugs for dyers use are exempted from all duties upon importation. Each of them, however, is afterwards subjected to a certain duty, not indeed a very heavy one, upon exportation. Our dyers, it seems, while they thought it for their interest to encourage the importation of those drugs, by an exemption from all duties, thought it likewise for their own interest to throw some small discouragement upon their exportation. The avidity, however, which suggested this notable piece of mercantile ingenuity, most probably disappointed itself of its object. It necessarily taught the importers to be more careful than they might otherwise have been, that their importation should not exceed what was necessary for the supply of the home market. The home market was at all times likely to be more scantily supplied; the commodities were at all times likely to be somewhat dearer there than they would have been, had the exportation been rendered as free as the importation.
By the above-mentioned statute, gum senega, or gum arabic, being among the enumerated dyeing drugs, might be imported duty free. They were subjected, indeed, to a small poundage duty, amounting only to threepence in the hundred weight, upon their re-exportation. France enjoyed, at that time, an exclusive trade to the country most productive of those drugs, that which lies in the neighbourhood of the Senegal; and the British market could not be easily supplied by the immediate importation of them from the place of growth. By the 25th Geo. II. therefore, gum senega was allowed to be imported (contrary to the general dispositions of the act of navigation) from any part of Europe. As the law, however, did not mean to encourage this species of trade, so contrary to the general principles of the mercantile policy of England, it imposed a duty of ten shillings the hundred weight upon such importation, and no part of this duty was to be afterwards drawn back upon its exportation. The successful war which began in 1755 gave Great Britain the same exclusive trade to those countries which France had enjoyed before. Our manufactures, as soon as the peace was made, endeavoured to avail themselves of this advantage, and to establish a monopoly in their own favour both against the growers and against the importers of this commodity. By the 5th of Geo. III. therefore, chap. 37, the exportation of gum senega, from his majesty’s dominions in Africa, was confined to Great Britain, and was subjected to all the same restrictions, regulations, forfeitures, and penalties, as that of the enumerated commodities of the British colonies in America and the West Indies. Its importation, indeed, was subjected to a small duty of sixpence the hundred weight; but its re-exportation was subjected to the enormous duty of one pound ten shillings the hundred weight. It was the intention of our manufacturers, that the whole produce of those countries should be imported into Great Britain; and in order that they themselves might be enabled to buy it at their own price, that no part of it should be exported again, but at such an expense as would sufficiently discourage that exportation. Their avidity, however, upon this, as well as upon many other occasions, disappointed itself of its object. This enormous duty presented such a temptation to smuggling, that great quantities of this commodity were clandestinely exported, probably to all the manufacturing countries of Europe, but particularly to Holland, not only from Great Britain, but from Africa. Upon this account, by the 14th Geo. III. chap.10, this duty upon exportation was reduced to five shillings the hundred weight.
In the book of rates, according to which the old subsidy was levied, beaver skins were estimated at six shillings and eight pence a piece; and the different subsidies and imposts which, before the year 1722, had been laid upon their importation, amounted to one-fifth part of the rate, or to sixteen pence upon each skin; all of which, except half the old subsidy, amounting only to twopence, was drawn back upon exportation. This duty, upon the importation of so important a material of manufacture, had been thought too high; and, in the year 1722, the rate was reduced to two shillings and sixpence, which reduced the duty upon importation to sixpence, and of this only one-half was to be drawn back upon exportation. The same successful war put the country most productive of beaver under the dominion of Great Britain; and beaver skins being among the enumerated commodities, the exportation from America was consequently confined to the market of Great Britain. Our manufacturers soon bethought themselves of the advantage which they might make of this circumstance; and in the year 1764, the duty upon the importation of beaver skin was reduced to one penny, but the duty upon exportation was raised to sevenpence each skin, without any drawback of the duty upon importation. By the same law, a duty of eighteen pence the pound was imposed upon the exportation of beaver wool or woumbs, without making any alteration in the duty upon the importation of that commodity, which, when imported by British, and in British shipping, amounted at that time to between fourpence and fivepence the piece.
Coals may be considered both as a material of manufacture, and as an instrument of trade. Heavy duties, accordingly, have been imposed upon their exportation, amounting at present (1783) to more than five shillings the ton, or more than fifteen shillings the chaldron, Newcastle measure; which is, in most cases, more than the original value of the commodity at the coal-pit, or even at the shipping port for exportation.
The exportation, however, of the instruments of trade, properly so called, is commonly restrained, not by high duties, but by absolute prohibitions. Thus, by the 7th and 8th of William III chap.20, sect.8, the exportation of frames or engines for knitting gloves or stockings, is prohibited, under the penalty, not only of the forfeiture of such frames or engines, so exported, or attempted to be exported, but of forty pounds, one half to the king, the other to the person who shall inform or sue for the same. In the same manner, by the 14th Geo. III. chap. 71, the exportation to foreign parts, of any utensils made use of in the cotton, linen, woollen, and silk manufactures, is prohibited under the penalty, not only of the forfeiture of such utensils, but of two hundred pounds, to be paid by the person who shall offend in this manner; and likewise of two hundred pounds, to be paid by the master of the ship, who shall knowingly suffer such utensils to be loaded on board his ship.
When such heavy penalties were imposed upon the exportation of the dead instruments of trade, it could not well be expected that the living instrument, the artificer, should be allowed to go free. Accordingly, by the 5th Geo. I. chap. 27, the person who shall be convicted of enticing any artificer, of or in any of the manufactures of Great Britain, to go into any foreign parts, in order to practise or teach his trade, is liable, for the first offence, to be fined in any sum not exceeding one hundred pounds, and to three months imprisonment, and until the fine shall be paid; and for the second offence, to be fined in any sum, at the discretion of the court, and to imprisonment for twelve months, and until the fine shall be paid. By the 23d Geo. II. chap. 13, this penalty is increased, for the first offence, to five hundred pounds for every artificer so enticed, and to twelve months imprisonment, and until the fine shall be paid; and for the second offence, to one thousand pounds, and to two years imprisonment, and until the fine shall be paid.
By the former of these two statutes, upon proof that any person has been enticing any artificer, or that any artificer has promised or contracted to go into foreign parts, for the purposes aforesaid, such artificer may be obliged to give security, at the discretion of the court, that he shall not go beyond the seas, and may be committed to prison until he give such security.
If any artificer has gone beyond the seas, and is exercising or teaching his trade in any foreign country, upon warning being given to him by any of his majesty’s ministers or consuls abroad, or by one of his majesty’s secretaries of state, for the time being, if he does not, within six months after such warning, return into this realm, and from henceforth abide and inhabit continually within the same, he is from thenceforth declared incapable of taking any legacy devised to him within this kingdom, or of being executor or administrator to any person, or of taking any lands within this kingdom, by descent, devise, or purchase. He likewise forfeits to the king all his lands, goods, and chattels; is declared an alien in every respect; and is put out of the king’s protection.
It is unnecessary, I imagine, to observe how contrary such regulations are to the boasted liberty of the subject, of which we affect to be so very jealous; but which, in this case, is so plainly sacrificed to the futile interests of our merchants and manufacturers.
The laudable motive of all these regulations, is to extend our own manufactures, not by their own improvement, but by the depression of those of all our neighbours, and by putting an end, as much as possible, to the troublesome competition of such odious and disagreeable rivals. Our master manufacturers think it reasonable that they themselves should have the monopoly of the ingenuity of all their countrymen. Though by restraining, in some trades, the number of apprentices which can be employed at one time, and by imposing the necessity of a long apprenticeship in all trades, they endeavour, all of them, to confine the knowledge of their respective employments to as small a number as possible; they are unwilling, however, that any part of this small number should go abroad to instruct foreigners.
Consumption is the sole end and purpose of all production; and the interest of the producer ought to be attended to, only so far as it may be necessary for promoting that of the consumer.
The maxim is so perfectly self-evident, that it would be absurd to attempt to prove it. But in the mercantile system, the interest of the consumer is almost constantly sacrificed to that of the producer; and it seems to consider production, and not consumption, as the ultimate end and object of all industry and commerce.
In the restraints upon the importation of all foreign commodities which can come into competition with those of our own growth or manufacture, the interest of the home consumer is evidently sacrificed to that of the producer. It is altogether for the benefit of the latter, that the former is obliged to pay that enhancement of price which this monopoly almost always occasions.
It is altogether for the benefit of the producer, that bounties are granted upon the exportation of some of his productions. The home consumer is obliged to pay, first the tax which is necessary for paying the bounty; and, secondly, the still greater tax which necessarily arises from the enhancement of the price of the commodity in the home market.
By the famous treaty of commerce with Portugal, the consumer is prevented by duties from purchasing of a neighbouring country, a commodity which our own climate does not produce; but is obliged to purchase it of a distant country, though it is acknowledged, that the commodity of the distant country is of a worse quality than that of the near one. The home consumer is obliged to submit to this inconvenience, in order that the producer may import into the distant country some of his productions, upon more advantageous terms than he otherwise would have been allowed to do. The consumer, too, is obliged to pay whatever enhancement in the price of those very productions this forced exportation may occasion in the home market.
But in the system of laws which has been established for the management of our American and West Indian colonies, the interest of the home consumer has been sacrificed to that of the producer, with a more extravagant profusion than in all our other commercial regulations. A great empire has been established for the sole purpose of raising up a nation of customers, who should be obliged to buy, from the shops of our different producers, all the goods with which these could supply them. For the sake of that little enhancement of price which this monopoly might afford our producers, the home consumers have been burdened with the whole expense of maintaining and defending that empire. For this purpose, and for this purpose only, in the two last wars, more than two hundred millions have been spent, and a new debt of more than a hundred and seventy millions has been contracted, over and above all that had been expended for the same purpose in former wars. The interest of this debt alone is not only greater than the whole extraordinary profit which, it never could be pretended, was made by the monopoly of the colony trade, but than the whole value of that trade, or than the whole value of the goods which, at an average, have been annually exported to the colonies.
It cannot be very difficult to determine who have been the contrivers of this whole mercantile system; not the consumers, we may believe, whose interest has been entirely neglected; but the producers, whose interest has been so carefully attended to; and among this latter class, our merchants and manufacturers have been by far the principal architects. In the mercantile regulations which have been taken notice of in this chapter, the interest of our manufacturers has been most peculiarly attended to; and the interest, not so much of the consumers, as that of some other sets of producers, has been sacrificed to it.
English
Restrictions on the export of goods that are partly, but not completely, manufactured, whether by prohibitions or taxes, are not confined to leather. So long as anything remains to be done to make a commodity fit for immediate use and consumption, our manufacturers think they should be the ones to do it. Woolen yarn and worsted are prohibited from export under the same penalties as wool; even undyed cloth is subject to an export duty, and our dyers have thus obtained a monopoly at the expense of our clothiers. The clothiers could probably have defended themselves against it, but most of our leading clothiers happen to be dyers as well. Watch cases, clock cases, and dial plates for clocks and watches have been prohibited from export. Our clockmakers and watchmakers, it seems, do not want foreign competition to raise the price of this workmanship for them.
Some old statutes of Edward III, Henry VIII. and Edward VI. prohibited the export of all metals. Only lead and tin were excepted, probably because these metals were so abundant and their export then formed a considerable part of the kingdom's trade. To encourage mining, the 5th of William and Mary, chap.17, exempted iron, copper, and mundic metal made from British ore from this prohibition. The export of all kinds of copper bars, foreign as well as British, was later permitted by the 9th and 10th of William III. chap 26. The export of unmanufactured brass, of what are called gunmetal, bell metal, and shroff metal, remains prohibited. Brass manufactures of every kind may be exported duty free.
Where the export of manufacturing materials is not altogether prohibited, it is in many cases subject to substantial duties.
By the 8th Geo. I. chap.15, all goods produced or manufactured in Great Britain on which earlier statutes had imposed duties were made duty free on export. The following goods, however, were excepted: alum, lead, lead ore, tin, tanned leather, copperas, coal, wool, cards, undyed woolen cloth, lapis calaminaris, skins of every kind, glue, rabbit hair or wool, hare's wool, hair of every kind, horses, and litharge of lead. Apart from horses, all these are either materials for manufacture, unfinished manufactures (which can themselves be considered materials for further manufacture), or instruments of trade. The statute leaves them subject to every old duty ever imposed on them, the old subsidy, and one per cent. on export.
The same statute exempts a great number of foreign drugs used by dyers from all import duties. Each, however, is then subjected to an export duty, though not a very heavy one. Our dyers apparently thought it in their interest both to encourage the import of these drugs by exempting them from all duties and to place a slight obstacle in the way of their export. But the greed that inspired this remarkable feat of mercantile ingenuity most probably defeated its own purpose. It necessarily made importers more careful than they might otherwise have been to import no more than the home market needed. That market was therefore always likely to be supplied less abundantly, and the commodities to cost somewhat more there than if exports had been made as free as imports.
Under the statute just mentioned, gum senega, or gum arabic, as one of the listed dyeing drugs, could be imported duty free. On re-export it was, indeed, subject to a small duty by weight, amounting to only threepence per hundredweight. At that time France held an exclusive trade with the country producing most of these drugs, the country around the Senegal; Britain could not easily supply its market by importing them directly from where they grew. The 25th Geo. II. therefore allowed gum senega to be imported from any part of Europe, contrary to the general provisions of the act of navigation. But as the law did not mean to encourage a trade so contrary to the general principles of England's mercantile policy, it imposed a duty of ten shillings per hundredweight on such imports, with no part to be drawn back upon export. The successful war that began in 1755 gave Great Britain the same exclusive trade with those countries that France had previously enjoyed. As soon as peace was made, our manufacturers sought to take advantage of it and establish a monopoly in their own favor against both the growers and the importers of the commodity. Accordingly, the 5th of Geo. III. chap. 37 confined the export of gum senega from his majesty's dominions in Africa to Great Britain and subjected it to all the restrictions, regulations, forfeitures, and penalties imposed on the listed commodities of the British colonies in America and the West Indies. Its import was, to be sure, subject to a small duty of sixpence per hundredweight; its re-export, however, was subject to the enormous duty of one pound ten shillings per hundredweight. Our manufacturers intended the whole output of those countries to be imported into Great Britain and, so that they could buy it at their own price, none of it to be exported again except at a cost sufficiently high to discourage export. Here, as on many other occasions, their greed defeated its own purpose. This enormous duty created such a temptation to smuggle that great quantities were secretly exported, probably to all the manufacturing countries of Europe and particularly to Holland, not only from Great Britain but also from Africa. For this reason the 14th Geo. III. chap.10 reduced the export duty to five shillings per hundredweight.
In the book of rates used to levy the old subsidy, beaver skins were valued at six shillings and eight pence apiece. The various subsidies and imposts imposed on their import before the year 1722 amounted to one-fifth of that valuation, or sixteen pence per skin. On export, all but half the old subsidy, amounting to only twopence, was drawn back. The import duty on so important a manufacturing material had been thought too high; in the year 1722 the valuation was reduced to two shillings and sixpence, lowering the import duty to sixpence, only half of which was to be drawn back on export. The same successful war brought the country that produced the most beaver under British rule; as beaver skins were among the listed commodities, exports from America were consequently confined to the British market. Our manufacturers soon realized how they might profit from this circumstance, and in the year 1764 the duty on importing beaver skin was lowered to one penny, while the export duty was raised to sevenpence per skin, with no drawback of the import duty. The same law imposed a duty of eighteen pence per pound on the export of beaver wool or woumbs, without altering the import duty on that commodity, which, when imported by British people in British ships, then amounted to between fourpence and fivepence per piece.
Coal may be regarded both as a material for manufacture and as an instrument of trade. Heavy duties have accordingly been imposed on its export, amounting at present (1783) to more than five shillings per ton, or more than fifteen shillings per chaldron, Newcastle measure. In most cases this exceeds the commodity's original value at the coal pit, or even at the port where it is shipped for export.
The export of instruments of trade in the strict sense, however, is usually restrained not by heavy duties but by outright prohibitions. Thus the 7th and 8th of William III chap.20, sect.8, forbids the export of frames or machines for knitting gloves or stockings, on pain not only of forfeiting any such frames or machines exported or attempted to be exported, but also of paying forty pounds, half to the king and half to the informer or prosecutor. Likewise, the 14th Geo. III. chap. 71 forbids the export to foreign countries of any implements used in cotton, linen, woolen, and silk manufacture. Besides forfeiting those implements, the offender must pay two hundred pounds, and the ship's master who knowingly allows them to be loaded aboard must likewise pay two hundred pounds.
When such heavy penalties were imposed on the export of the lifeless instruments of trade, one could hardly expect the living instrument, the artisan, to be free to leave. Accordingly, under the 5th Geo. I. chap. 27, anyone convicted of enticing an artisan belonging to or employed in any British manufacture to go abroad to practice or teach his trade is liable for the first offense to a fine of up to one hundred pounds and three months' imprisonment, continuing until the fine is paid; for a second offense he is liable to a fine of any amount at the court's discretion and twelve months' imprisonment, continuing until the fine is paid. The 23d Geo. II. chap. 13 increases the penalty for a first offense to five hundred pounds for every artisan enticed and twelve months' imprisonment, continuing until the fine is paid; for a second offense it increases the penalty to one thousand pounds and two years' imprisonment, continuing until the fine is paid.
Under the first of these two statutes, on proof that anyone has been enticing an artisan, or that an artisan has promised or contracted to go abroad for these purposes, the artisan may be required to provide security, as the court sees fit, that he will not go overseas, and may be imprisoned until he provides it.
If an artisan has gone overseas and is practicing or teaching his trade in a foreign country, and is warned by one of his majesty's ministers or consuls abroad, or by one of his majesty's current secretaries of state, to return to this realm, but fails to return within six months and thereafter live here permanently, he is declared incapable of receiving any legacy left to him in this kingdom, of serving as executor or administrator to anyone, or of acquiring land in this kingdom by inheritance, bequest, or purchase. He also forfeits all his lands, goods, and possessions to the king, is declared a foreigner in every respect, and loses the king's protection.
I need hardly observe how contrary such regulations are to the much-vaunted liberty of the subject, of which we profess to be so jealous, yet which in this case is so plainly sacrificed to the paltry interests of our merchants and manufacturers.
The praiseworthy motive behind all these regulations is to expand our manufactures, not by improving them, but by depressing those of all our neighbors and putting an end, as far as possible, to the troublesome competition of such hateful and disagreeable rivals. Our master manufacturers consider it reasonable that they should hold a monopoly over the ingenuity of all their countrymen. Although they all try to confine knowledge of their trades to as few people as possible by limiting the number of apprentices who may be employed at once in some trades and requiring a long apprenticeship in every trade, they are unwilling for any of that small number to go abroad and teach foreigners.
Consumption is the sole end and purpose of all production; the producer's interest should be considered only insofar as it may be necessary to advance the consumer's.
This maxim is so self-evident that attempting to prove it would be absurd. In the mercantile system, however, the consumer's interest is almost constantly sacrificed to the producer's; the system seems to regard production, not consumption, as the ultimate end and purpose of all industry and commerce.
In restrictions on the import of foreign commodities that can compete with those we grow or manufacture ourselves, the home consumer's interest is plainly sacrificed to the producer's. It is solely for the latter's benefit that the former is forced to pay the higher price this monopoly almost always brings about.
It is solely for the producer's benefit that bounties are granted on the export of some of his products. The home consumer has to pay, first, the tax required to fund the bounty and, second, the still greater tax that necessarily results when the commodity's price rises in the home market.
Under the famous commercial treaty with Portugal, duties prevent the consumer from buying from a neighboring country a commodity our own climate cannot produce. He is obliged instead to buy it from a distant country, though it is acknowledged that the distant country's product is worse than the neighbor's. The home consumer must endure this inconvenience so that the producer can import some of his products into the distant country on more favorable terms than would otherwise have been allowed. The consumer must also pay whatever increase this forced export may cause in the home price of those very products.
But in the laws established to manage our American and West Indian colonies, the home consumer's interest has been sacrificed to the producer's with greater extravagance than in any other commercial regulations. A great empire has been established solely to create a nation of customers obliged to buy from the shops of our various producers every good they can supply. For the sake of the small increase in price this monopoly might yield our producers, home consumers have borne the entire cost of maintaining and defending that empire. For this purpose, and this purpose alone, more than two hundred millions have been spent in the two last wars, and a new debt of more than a hundred and seventy millions contracted, beyond everything spent for the same purpose in earlier wars. The interest on this debt alone exceeds not merely the entire extraordinary profit that could ever plausibly be claimed for the monopoly of colonial trade, but the entire value of that trade—the entire value of the goods exported to the colonies in an average year.
It cannot be very hard to determine who devised this entire mercantile system: not the consumers, we may suppose, whose interests were wholly neglected, but the producers, whose interests received such careful attention. Of the latter, our merchants and manufacturers have been by far its chief architects. In the mercantile regulations discussed in this chapter, particular attention has been paid to the interests of our manufacturers; and it is not so much consumers as certain other groups of producers whose interests have been sacrificed to them.
Book IV, Chapter IX, 1
18th-century English
OF THE AGRICULTURAL SYSTEMS, OR OF THOSE SYSTEMS OF POLITICAL ECONOMY WHICH REPRESENT THE PRODUCE OF LAND, AS EITHER THE SOLE OR THE PRINCIPAL SOURCE OF THE REVENUE AND WEALTH OF EVERY COUNTRY.
The agricultural systems of political economy will not require so long an explanation as that which I have thought it necessary to bestow upon the mercantile or commercial system.
That system which represents the produce of land as the sole source of the revenue and wealth of every country, has so far as I know, never been adopted by any nation, and it at present exists only in the speculations of a few men of great learning and ingenuity in France. It would not, surely, be worth while to examine at great length the errors of a system which never has done, and probably never will do, any harm in any part of the world. I shall endeavour to explain, however, as distinctly as I can, the great outlines of this very ingenious system.
Mr Colbert, the famous minister of Lewis XIV. was a man of probity, of great industry, and knowledge of detail; of great experience and acuteness in the examination of public accounts; and of abilities, in short, every way fitted for introducing method and good order into the collection and expenditure of the public revenue. That minister had unfortunately embraced all the prejudices of the mercantile system, in its nature and essence a system of restraint and regulation, and such as could scarce fail to be agreeable to a laborious and plodding man of business, who had been accustomed to regulate the different departments of public offices, and to establish the necessary checks and controls for confining each to its proper sphere. The industry and commerce of a great country, he endeavoured to regulate upon the same model as the departments of a public office; and instead of allowing every man to pursue his own interest his own way, upon the liberal plan of equality, liberty, and justice, he bestowed upon certain branches of industry extraordinary privileges, while he laid others under as extraordinary restraints. He was not only disposed, like other European ministers, to encourage more the industry of the towns than that of the country; but, in order to support the industry of the towns, he was willing even to depress and keep down that of the country. In order to render provisions cheap to the inhabitants of the towns, and thereby to encourage manufactures and foreign commerce, he prohibited altogether the exportation of corn, and thus excluded the inhabitants of the country from every foreign market, for by far the most important part of the produce of their industry. This prohibition, joined to the restraints imposed by the ancient provincial laws of France upon the transportation of corn from one province to another, and to the arbitrary and degrading taxes which are levied upon the cultivators in almost all the provinces, discouraged and kept down the agriculture of that country very much below the state to which it would naturally have risen in so very fertile a soil, and so very happy a climate. This state of discouragement and depression was felt more or less in every different part of the country, and many different inquiries were set on foot concerning the causes of it. One of those causes appeared to be the preference given, by the institutions of Mr Colbert, to the industry of the towns above that of the country.
If the rod be bent too much one way, says the proverb, in order to make it straight, you must bend it as much the other. The French philosophers, who have proposed the system which represents agriculture as the sole source of the revenue and wealth of every country, seem to have adopted this proverbial maxim; and, as in the plan of Mr Colbert, the industry of the towns was certainly overvalued in comparison with that of the country, so in their system it seems to be as certainly under-valued.
The different orders of people, who have ever been supposed to contribute in any respect towards the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, they divide into three classes. The first is the class of the proprietors of land. The second is the class of the cultivators, of farmers and country labourers, whom they honour with the peculiar appellation of the productive class. The third is the class of artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, whom they endeavour to degrade by the humiliating appellation of the barren or unproductive class.
The class of proprietors contributes to the annual produce, by the expense which they may occasionally lay out upon the improvement of the land, upon the buildings, drains, inclosures, and other ameliorations, which they may either make or maintain upon it, and by means of which the cultivators are enabled, with the same capital, to raise a greater produce, and consequently to pay a greater rent. This advanced rent may be considered as the interest or profit due to the proprietor, upon the expense or capital which he thus employs in the improvement of his land. Such expenses are in this system called ground expenses (depenses foncieres).
The cultivators or farmers contribute to the annual produce, by what are in this system called the original and annual expenses (depenses primitives, et depenses annuelles), which they lay out upon the cultivation of the land. The original expenses consist in the instruments of husbandry, in the stock of cattle, in the seed, and in the maintenance of the farmer’s family, servants, and cattle, during at least a great part of the first year of his occupancy, or till he can receive some return from the land. The annual expenses consist in the seed, in the wear and tear of instruments of husbandry, and in the annual maintenance of the farmer’s servants and cattle, and of his family too, so far as any part of them can be considered as servants employed in cultivation. That part of the produce of the land which remains to him after paying the rent, ought to be sufficient, first, to replace to him, within a reasonable time, at least during the term of his occupancy, the whole of his original expenses, together with the ordinary profits of stock; and, secondly, to replace to him annually the whole of his annual expenses, together likewise with the ordinary profits of stock. Those two sorts of expenses are two capitals which the farmer employs in cultivation; and unless they are regularly restored to him, together with a reasonable profit, he cannot carry on his employment upon a level with other employments; but, from a regard to his own interest, must desert it as soon as possible, and seek some other. That part of the produce of the land which is thus necessary for enabling the farmer to continue his business, ought to be considered as a fund sacred to cultivation, which, if the landlord violates, he necessarily reduces the produce of his own land, and, in a few years, not only disables the farmer from paying this racked rent, but from paying the reasonable rent which he might otherwise have got for his land. The rent which properly belongs to the landlord, is no more than the neat produce which remains after paying, in the completest manner, all the necessary expenses which must be previously laid out, in order to raise the gross or the whole produce. It is because the labour of the cultivators, over and above paying completely all those necessary expenses, affords a neat produce of this kind, that this class of people are in this system peculiarly distinguished by the honourable appellation of the productive class. Their original and annual expenses are for the same reason called, In this system, productive expenses, because, over and above replacing their own value, they occasion the annual reproduction of this neat produce.
The ground expenses, as they are called, or what the landlord lays out upon the improvement of his land, are, in this system, too, honoured with the appellation of productive expenses. Till the whole of those expenses, together with the ordinary profits of stock, have been completely repaid to him by the advanced rent which he gets from his land, that advanced rent ought to be regarded as sacred and inviolable, both by the church and by the king; ought to be subject neither to tithe nor to taxation. If it is otherwise, by discouraging the improvement of land, the church discourages the future increase of her own tithes, and the king the future increase of his own taxes. As in a well ordered state of things, therefore, those ground expenses, over and above reproducing in the completest manner their own value, occasion likewise, after a certain time, a reproduction of a neat produce, they are in this system considered as productive expenses.
The ground expenses of the landlord, however, together with the original and the annual expenses of the farmer, are the only three sorts of expenses which in this system are considered as productive. All other expenses, and all other orders of people, even those who, in the common apprehensions of men, are regarded as the most productive, are, in this account of things, represented as altogether barren and unproductive.
Artificers and manufacturers, in particular, whose industry, in the common apprehensions of men, increases so much the value of the rude produce of land, are in this system represented as a class of people altogether barren and unproductive. Their labour, it is said, replaces only the stock which employs them, together with its ordinary profits. That stock consists in the materials, tools, and wages, advanced to them by their employer; and is the fund destined for their employment and maintenance. Its profits are the fund destined for the maintenance of their employer. Their employer, as he advances to them the stock of materials, tools, and wages, necessary for their employment, so he advances to himself what is necessary for his own maintenance; and this maintenance he generally proportions to the profit which he expects to make by the price of their work. Unless its price repays to him the maintenance which he advances to himself, as well as the materials, tools, and wages, which he advances to his workmen, it evidently does not repay to him the whole expense which he lays out upon it. The profits of manufacturing stock, therefore, are not, like the rent of land, a neat produce which remains after completely repaying the whole expense which must be laid out in order to obtain them. The stock of the farmer yields him a profit, as well as that of the master manufacturer; and it yields a rent likewise to another person, which that of the master manufacturer does not. The expense, therefore, laid out in employing and maintaining artificers and manufacturers, does no more than continue, if one may say so, the existence of its own value, and does not produce any new value. It is, therefore, altogether a barren and unproductive expense. The expense, on the contrary, laid out in employing farmers and country labourers, over and above continuing the existence of its own value, produces a new value the rent of the landlord. It is, therefore, a productive expense.
Mercantile stock is equally barren and unproductive with manufacturing stock. It only continues the existence of its own value, without producing any new value. Its profits are only the repayment of the maintenance which its employer advances to himself during the time that he employs it, or till he receives the returns of it. They are only the repayment of a part of the expense which must be laid out in employing it.
The labour of artificers and manufacturers never adds any thing to the value of the whole annual amount of the rude produce of the land. It adds, indeed, greatly to the value of some particular parts of it. But the consumption which, in the mean time, it occasions of other parts, is precisely equal to the value which it adds to those parts; so that the value of the whole amount is not, at any one moment of time, in the least augmented by it. The person who works the lace of a pair of fine ruffles for example, will sometimes raise the value of, perhaps, a pennyworth of flax to £30 sterling. But though, at first sight, he appears thereby to multiply the value of a part of the rude produce about seven thousand and two hundred times, he in reality adds nothing to the value of the whole annual amount of the rude produce. The working of that lace costs him, perhaps, two years labour. The £30 which he gets for it when it is finished, is no more than the repayment of the subsistence which he advances to himself during the two years that he is employed about it. The value which, by every day’s, month’s, or year’s labour, he adds to the flax, does no more than replace the value of his own consumption during that day, month, or year. At no moment of time, therefore, does he add any thing to the value of the whole annual amount of the rude produce of the land: the portion of that produce which he is continually consuming, being always equal to the value which he is continually producing. The extreme poverty of the greater part of the persons employed in this expensive, though trifling manufacture, may satisfy us that the price of their work does not, in ordinary cases, exceed the value of their subsistence. It is otherwise with the work of farmers and country labourers. The rent of the landlord is a value which, in ordinary cases, it is continually producing over and above replacing, in the most complete manner, the whole consumption, the whole expense laid out upon the employment and maintenance both of the workmen and of their employer.
English
ON AGRICULTURAL SYSTEMS, OR SYSTEMS OF POLITICAL ECONOMY THAT PRESENT THE PRODUCE OF LAND AS THE SOLE OR PRINCIPAL SOURCE OF EVERY COUNTRY'S REVENUE AND WEALTH.
The agricultural systems of political economy will not require so lengthy an explanation as I thought it necessary to give the mercantile or commercial system.
The system that presents the produce of land as the sole source of every country's revenue and wealth has, so far as I know, never been adopted by any nation. At present it exists only in the speculations of a few highly learned and ingenious men in France. It would surely not be worth examining at great length the errors of a system that has never done, and probably never will do, harm anywhere in the world. I shall nevertheless try to explain its broad outlines as clearly as I can.
Mr Colbert, the famous minister of Lewis XIV., was a man of integrity, great industry, and command of detail, with extensive experience and a keen eye for examining public accounts; his abilities, in short, suited him in every way to bringing method and good order to the collection and expenditure of public revenue. Unfortunately, this minister embraced all the prejudices of the mercantile system—a system of restraint and regulation in its very nature and essence, and one almost bound to appeal to a diligent, painstaking administrator accustomed to regulating the various departments of public offices and setting up the checks and controls needed to keep each within its proper sphere. He sought to regulate the industry and commerce of a great country on the same model as the departments of a public office. Instead of allowing every person to pursue his own interests in his own way under a generous plan of equality, liberty, and justice, he granted extraordinary privileges to certain branches of industry while imposing equally extraordinary restraints on others. Like other European ministers, he was disposed to encourage urban industry more than rural industry; but to support the towns, he was even willing to depress and hold down the countryside. To make food cheap for the townspeople, and thereby encourage manufactures and foreign commerce, he prohibited the export of grain altogether, thus shutting the country people out of every foreign market for by far the most important product of their labor. This prohibition, combined with restrictions imposed by the old provincial laws of France on moving grain from one province to another, and with the arbitrary and degrading taxes levied on cultivators in almost every province, discouraged agriculture and kept it far below the level it would naturally have attained on such fertile soil in such a favorable climate. This discouragement and depression were felt to varying degrees throughout the country, and many inquiries were begun into their causes. One cause appeared to be the preference Mr Colbert's institutions gave to urban over rural industry.
If a rod is bent too far one way, says the proverb, you must bend it just as far the other way to make it straight. The French philosophers who proposed the system that presents agriculture as the sole source of every country's revenue and wealth seem to have adopted this proverbial maxim. Just as Mr Colbert's plan certainly overvalued urban industry relative to rural industry, their system seems just as certainly to undervalue it.
The different orders of people ever thought to contribute in any way to the annual produce of a country's land and labor are divided by them into three classes. First comes the class of landowners. Second comes the class of cultivators, farmers, and rural laborers, whom they honor with the special name of the productive class. Third comes the class of artisans, manufacturers, and merchants, whom they seek to disparage with the humiliating name of the barren or unproductive class.
Landowners contribute to the annual produce through the money they may occasionally spend on improving the land—on buildings, drains, enclosures, and other improvements that they make or maintain, enabling cultivators to raise more produce with the same capital and therefore pay more rent. This increased rent may be considered the interest or profit due to a landowner on the expenditure or capital he has invested in improving his land. In this system, such expenditures are called ground expenses (depenses foncieres).
Cultivators or farmers contribute to the annual produce through what this system calls the original and annual expenses (depenses primitives, et depenses annuelles) that they incur in cultivating the land. The original expenses consist of farming tools, livestock, seed, and the maintenance of the farmer's family, servants, and animals for at least much of the first year of his tenancy, or until the land begins to yield a return. The annual expenses consist of seed, wear and tear on farming tools, and the yearly maintenance of the farmer's servants and animals, as well as of his family to the extent that its members can be regarded as servants engaged in cultivation. What remains to him of the land's produce after paying rent should be enough, first, to repay all his original expenses within a reasonable period, at least during his tenancy, along with the ordinary profits of stock; and, second, to repay all his annual expenses each year, also with the ordinary profits of stock. These two kinds of expense are two capitals the farmer employs in cultivation. Unless they are regularly returned to him with a reasonable profit, he cannot carry on his business on equal terms with other occupations. For his own sake, he must abandon it as soon as possible and seek another. The part of the land's produce needed to enable the farmer to remain in business should be regarded as a fund sacred to cultivation. If the landlord encroaches upon it, he necessarily reduces the output of his own land and, within a few years, renders the farmer unable to pay not only this exorbitant rent but even the reasonable rent he could otherwise have received. The rent properly due the landlord is no more than the net produce remaining after all the necessary expenses previously incurred in raising the gross or total produce have been fully paid. Because the cultivators' labor yields such a net produce above and beyond the complete repayment of all those necessary expenses, this class of people receives the special honorable name of the productive class in this system. Their original and annual expenses are likewise called productive expenses, because they not only replace their own value but also cause this net produce to be reproduced every year.
The ground expenses, as they are called, or what a landlord spends to improve his land, are also honored in this system with the name of productive expenses. Until the increased rent from his land has completely repaid him all those expenses, together with the ordinary profits of stock, that increased rent should be regarded as sacred and inviolable by church and king alike: it should be subject neither to tithes nor to taxes. Otherwise, in discouraging improvements to the land, the church discourages the future increase of its own tithes, and the king the future increase of his taxes. Thus, since under a properly ordered system these ground expenses eventually yield a net produce in addition to fully reproducing their own value, this system regards them as productive expenses.
The landlord's ground expenses, however, together with the farmer's original and annual expenses, are the only three kinds of expenses that this system considers productive. All other expenses and all other orders of people—even those commonly held to be the most productive—are in this account portrayed as wholly barren and unproductive.
Artisans and manufacturers in particular, whose industry is commonly thought to add so greatly to the value of the raw produce of land, are portrayed by this system as a wholly barren and unproductive class. Their labor, it is said, replaces only the stock that employs them, together with its ordinary profits. That stock consists of the materials, tools, and wages advanced by their employer; it is the fund set aside to employ and maintain them. Its profits are the fund set aside to maintain their employer. Just as he advances the stock of materials, tools, and wages needed to employ them, their employer advances to himself what he needs for his own maintenance, ordinarily proportioning that maintenance to the profit he expects from the price of their work. Unless that price repays him for his own advance of maintenance as well as for the materials, tools, and wages advanced to his workers, it clearly does not repay his entire expenditure. The profits of manufacturing stock, therefore, are not, like rent from land, a net produce remaining after the full repayment of every expense needed to obtain them. The farmer's stock yields him a profit, as the master manufacturer's does, but also yields rent to another person, which the manufacturer's stock does not. The expense of employing and maintaining artisans and manufacturers thus does no more than perpetuate, so to speak, the existence of its own value; it creates no new value. It is therefore wholly barren and unproductive. By contrast, the expense of employing farmers and rural laborers not only perpetuates its own value but creates a new value, the landlord's rent. It is therefore productive.
Mercantile stock is just as barren and unproductive as manufacturing stock. It merely perpetuates its own value without creating any new value. Its profits are only the repayment of the maintenance that its employer advances to himself while he employs it, or until he receives its returns. They merely repay part of the expense necessarily incurred in employing it.
The labor of artisans and manufacturers never adds anything to the value of the entire annual amount of the land's raw produce. It does, indeed, add greatly to the value of particular parts of it. But the value of the other parts consumed in the process is precisely equal to the value it adds to those parts, so that at no moment is the value of the whole amount increased in the slightest. Someone making the lace for a pair of fine ruffles, for example, may raise the value of perhaps a pennyworth of flax to £30 sterling. At first sight he thus seems to multiply the value of one part of the raw produce some seven thousand and two hundred times; in reality, however, he adds nothing to the value of the entire annual amount of raw produce. Making that lace costs him perhaps two years' labor. The £30 he receives when it is finished merely repays the subsistence he has advanced to himself over the two years spent working on it. The value he adds to the flax through a day's, month's, or year's labor does no more than replace the value of what he consumes during that day, month, or year. At no moment, therefore, does he add anything to the value of the entire annual amount of the land's raw produce: the portion of that produce he continually consumes always equals the value he continually produces. The extreme poverty of most people engaged in this expensive yet trifling manufacture may convince us that the price of their work does not ordinarily exceed the value of their subsistence. The work of farmers and rural laborers is different. The landlord's rent is a value that their work ordinarily continues to produce over and above fully replacing all the consumption, all the expenses incurred to employ and maintain both the workers and their employer.
Book IV, Chapter IX, 2
18th-century English
Artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, can augment the revenue and wealth of their society by parsimony only; or, as it is expressed in this system, by privation, that is, by depriving themselves of a part of the funds destined for their own subsistence. They annually reproduce nothing but those funds. Unless, therefore, they annually save some part of them, unless they annually deprive themselves of the enjoyment of some part of them, the revenue and wealth of their society can never be, in the smallest degree, augmented by means of their industry. Farmers and country labourers, on the contrary, may enjoy completely the whole funds destined for their own subsistence, and yet augment, at the same time, the revenue and wealth of their society. Over and above what is destined for their own subsistence, their industry annually affords a neat produce, of which the augmentation necessarily augments the revenue and wealth of their society. Nations, therefore, which, like France or England, consist in a great measure, of proprietors and cultivators, can be enriched by industry and enjoyment. Nations, on the contrary, which, like Holland and Hamburgh, are composed chiefly of merchants, artificers, and manufacturers, can grow rich only through parsimony and privation. As the interest of nations so differently circumstanced is very different, so is likewise the common character of the people. In those of the former kind, liberality, frankness, and good fellowship, naturally make a part of their common character; in the latter, narrowness, meanness, and a selfish disposition, averse to all social pleasure and enjoyment.
The unproductive class, that of merchants, artificers, and manufacturers, is maintained and employed altogether at the expense of the two other classes, of that of proprietors, and of that of cultivators. They furnish it both with the materials of its work, and with the fund of its subsistence, with the corn and cattle which it consumes while it is employed about that work. The proprietors and cultivators finally pay both the wages of all the workmen of the unproductive class, and the profits of all their employers. Those workmen and their employers are properly the servants of the proprietors and cultivators. They are only servants who work without doors, as menial servants work within. Both the one and the other, however, are equally maintained at the expense of the same masters. The labour of both is equally unproductive. It adds nothing to the value of the sum total of the rude produce of the land. Instead of increasing the value of that sum total, it is a charge and expense which must be paid out of it.
The unproductive class, however, is not only useful, but greatly useful, to the other two classes. By means of the industry of merchants, artificers, and manufacturers, the proprietors and cultivators can purchase both the foreign goods and the manufactured produce of their own country, which they have occasion for, with the produce of a much smaller quantity of their own labour, than what they would be obliged to employ, if they were to attempt, in an awkward and unskilful manner, either to import the one, or to make the other, for their own use. By means of the unproductive class, the cultivators are delivered from many cares, which would otherwise distract their attention from the cultivation of land. The superiority of produce, which in consequence of this undivided attention, they are enabled to raise, is fully sufficient to pay the whole expense which the maintenance and employment of the unproductive class costs either the proprietors or themselves. The industry of merchants, artificers, and manufacturers, though in its own nature altogether unproductive, yet contributes in this manner indirectly to increase the produce of the land. It increases the productive powers of productive labour, by leaving it at liberty to confine itself to its proper employment, the cultivation of land; and the plough goes frequently the easier and the better, by means of the labour of the man whose business is most remote from the plough.
It can never be the interest of the proprietors and cultivators, to restrain or to discourage, in any respect, the industry of merchants, artificers, and manufacturers. The greater the liberty which this unproductive class enjoys, the greater will be the competition in all the different trades which compose it, and the cheaper will the other two classes be supplied, both with foreign goods and with the manufactured produce of their own country.
It can never be the interest of the unproductive class to oppress the other two classes. It is the surplus produce of the land, or what remains after deducting the maintenance, first of the cultivators, and afterwards of the proprietors, that maintains and employs the unproductive class. The greater this surplus, the greater must likewise be the maintenance and employment of that class. The establishment of perfect justice, of perfect liberty, and of perfect equality, is the very simple secret which most effectually secures the highest degree of prosperity to all the three classes.
The merchants, artificers, and manufacturers of those mercantile states, which, like Holland and Hamburgh, consist chiefly of this unproductive class, are in the same manner maintained and employed altogether at the expense of the proprietors and cultivators of land. The only difference is, that those proprietors and cultivators are, the greater part of them, placed at a most inconvenient distance from the merchants, artificers, and manufacturers, whom they supply with the materials of their work and the fund of their subsistence; are the inhabitants of other countries, and the subjects of other governments.
Such mercantile states, however, are not only useful, but greatly useful, to the inhabitants of those other countries. They fill up, in some measure, a very important void; and supply the place of the merchants, artificers, and manufacturers, whom the inhabitants of those countries ought to find at home, but whom, from some defect in their policy, they do not find at home.
It can never be the interest of those landed nations, if I may call them so, to discourage or distress the industry of such mercantile states, by imposing high duties upon their trade, or upon the commodities which they furnish. Such duties, by rendering those commodities dearer, could serve only to sink the real value of the surplus produce of their own land, with which, or, what comes to the same thing, with the price of which those commodities are purchased. Such duties could only serve to discourage the increase of that surplus produce, and consequently the improvement and cultivation of their own land. The most effectual expedient, on the contrary, for raising the value of that surplus produce, for encouraging its increase, and consequently the improvement and cultivation of their own land, would be to allow the most perfect freedom to the trade of all such mercantile nations.
This perfect freedom of trade would even be the most effectual expedient for supplying them, in due time, with all the artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, whom they wanted at home; and for filling up, in the properest and most advantageous manner, that very important void which they felt there.
The continual increase of the surplus produce of their land would, in due time, create a greater capital than what would be employed with the ordinary rate of profit in the improvement and cultivation of land; and the surplus part of it would naturally turn itself to the employment of artificers and manufacturers, at home. But these artificers and manufacturers, finding at home both the materials of their work and the fund of their subsistence, might immediately, even with much less art and skill be able to work as cheap as the little artificers and manufacturers of such mercantile states, who had both to bring from a greater distance. Even though, from want of art and skill, they might not for some time be able to work as cheap, yet, finding a market at home, they might be able to sell their work there as cheap as that of the artificers and manufacturers of such mercantile states, which could not be brought to that market but from so great a distance; and as their art and skill improved, they would soon be able to sell it cheaper. The artificers and manufacturers of such mercantile states, therefore, would immediately be rivalled in the market of those landed nations, and soon after undersold and justled out of it altogether. The cheapness of the manufactures of those landed nations, in consequence of the gradual improvements of art and skill, would, in due time, extend their sale beyond the home market, and carry them to many foreign markets, from which they would, in the same manner, gradually justle out many of the manufacturers of such mercantile nations.
This continual increase, both of the rude and manufactured produce of those landed nations, would, in due time, create a greater capital than could, with the ordinary rate of profit, be employed either in agriculture or in manufactures. The surplus of this capital would naturally turn itself to foreign trade and be employed in exporting, to foreign countries, such parts of the rude and manufactured produce of its own country, as exceeded the demand of the home market. In the exportation of the produce of their own country, the merchants of a landed nation would have an advantage of the same kind over those of mercantile nations, which its artificers and manufacturers had over the artificers and manufacturers of such nations; the advantage of finding at home that cargo, and those stores and provisions, which the others were obliged to seek for at a distance. With inferior art and skill in navigation, therefore, they would be able to sell that cargo as cheap in foreign markets as the merchants of such mercantile nations; and with equal art and skill they would be able to sell it cheaper. They would soon, therefore, rival those mercantile nations in this branch of foreign trade, and, in due time, would justle them out of it altogether.
According to this liberal and generous system, therefore, the most advantageous method in which a landed nation can raise up artificers, manufacturers, and merchants of its own, is to grant the most perfect freedom of trade to the artificers, manufacturers, and merchants of all other nations. It thereby raises the value of the surplus produce of its own land, of which the continual increase gradually establishes a fund, which, in due time, necessarily raises up all the artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, whom it has occasion for.
When a landed nation on the contrary, oppresses, either by high duties or by prohibitions, the trade of foreign nations, it necessarily hurts its own interest in two different ways. First, by raising the price of all foreign goods, and of all sorts of manufactures, it necessarily sinks the real value of the surplus produce of its own land, with which, or, what comes to the same thing, with the price of which, it purchases those foreign goods and manufactures. Secondly, by giving a sort of monopoly of the home market to its own merchants, artificers, and manufacturers, it raises the rate of mercantile and manufacturing profit, in proportion to that of agricultural profit; and, consequently, either draws from agriculture a part of the capital which had before been employed in it, or hinders from going to it a part of what would otherwise have gone to it. This policy, therefore, discourages agriculture in two different ways; first, by sinking the real value of its produce, and thereby lowering the rate of its profits; and, secondly, by raising the rate of profit in all other employments. Agriculture is rendered less advantageous, and trade and manufactures more advantageous, than they otherwise would be; and every man is tempted by his own interest to turn, as much as he can, both his capital and his industry from the former to the latter employments.
Though, by this oppressive policy, a landed nation should be able to raise up artificers, manufacturers, and merchants of its own, somewhat sooner than it could do by the freedom of trade; a matter, however, which is not a little doubtful; yet it would raise them up, if one may say so, prematurely, and before it was perfectly ripe for them. By raising up too hastily one species of industry, it would depress another more valuable species of industry. By raising up too hastily a species of industry which duly replaces the stock which employs it, together with the ordinary profit, it would depress a species of industry which, over and above replacing that stock, with its profit, affords likewise a neat produce, a free rent to the landlord. It would depress productive labour, by encouraging too hastily that labour which is altogether barren and unproductive.
In what manner, according to this system, the sum total of the annual produce of the land is distributed among the three classes above mentioned, and in what manner the labour of the unproductive class does no more than replace the value of its own consumption, without increasing in any respect the value of that sum total, is represented by Mr Quesnai, the very ingenious and profound author of this system, in some arithmetical formularies. The first of these formularies, which, by way of eminence, he peculiarly distinguishes by the name of the Economical Table, represents the manner in which he supposes this distribution takes place, in a state of the most perfect liberty, and, therefore, of the highest prosperity; in a state where the annual produce is such as to afford the greatest possible neat produce, and where each class enjoys its proper share of the whole annual produce. Some subsequent formularies represent the manner in which he supposes this distribution is made in different states of restraint and regulation; in which, either the class of proprietors, or the barren and unproductive class, is more favoured than the class of cultivators; and in which either the one or the other encroaches, more or less, upon the share which ought properly to belong to this productive class. Every such encroachment, every violation of that natural distribution, which the most perfect liberty would establish, must, according to this system, necessarily degrade, more or less, from one year to another, the value and sum total of the annual produce, and must necessarily occasion a gradual declension in the real wealth and revenue of the society; a declension, of which the progress must be quicker or slower, according to the degree of this encroachment, according as that natural distribution, which the most perfect liberty would establish, is more or less violated. Those subsequent formularies represent the different degrees of declension which, according to this system, correspond to the different degrees in which this natural distribution of things is violated.
English
Artisans, manufacturers, and merchants can increase the revenue and wealth of their society only by saving—or, as this system puts it, by privation: by denying themselves part of the funds intended for their own subsistence. Each year they reproduce nothing beyond those funds. Unless, therefore, they save some part of them each year, foregoing the enjoyment of it, their industry cannot increase their society’s revenue and wealth in even the slightest degree. Farmers and agricultural laborers, by contrast, can enjoy all the funds intended for their subsistence and still increase their society’s revenue and wealth. Beyond what supports them, their industry yields an annual net produce; an increase in that produce necessarily increases the society’s revenue and wealth. Nations such as France and England, then, composed largely of landowners and cultivators, can grow wealthy through industry and enjoyment. Nations such as Holland and Hamburgh, composed chiefly of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers, can grow wealthy only through thrift and privation. As the interests of nations in these different circumstances differ greatly, so do the prevailing characters of their people. In the former, generosity, candor, and good fellowship naturally enter into the common character; in the latter, narrowness, meanness, and a selfish aversion to social pleasure and enjoyment.
The unproductive class—the merchants, artisans, and manufacturers—is supported and employed entirely at the expense of the other two classes, the landowners and the cultivators. These supply both the materials on which it works and the funds on which it subsists: the grain and livestock it consumes while working. Landowners and cultivators ultimately pay both the wages of every worker in the unproductive class and the profits of every employer. Those workers and employers are, properly speaking, servants of the landowners and cultivators. They are simply servants who work outdoors, as domestic servants work indoors. Both are supported at the expense of the same masters, and the labor of both is equally unproductive. It adds nothing to the total value of the land’s raw produce. Rather than increasing that total, it is a charge and expense paid out of it.
Yet the unproductive class is not merely useful to the other two classes; it is immensely useful. Through the industry of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers, landowners and cultivators can buy both foreign goods and the manufactured products of their own country that they need with the produce of far less of their own labor than they would have to devote to importing the former or making the latter themselves, awkwardly and without skill. The unproductive class relieves cultivators of many cares that would otherwise draw their attention away from cultivating the land. The additional produce they can raise through this undivided attention is amply sufficient to cover the entire cost of supporting and employing the unproductive class, whether borne by the landowners or by themselves. Thus the industry of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers, though by its nature wholly unproductive, indirectly helps increase the produce of the land. It increases the productive power of productive labor by leaving it free to concentrate on its proper work, cultivating the land; and the plow often moves more easily and effectively thanks to the labor of a person whose occupation is farthest removed from the plow.
It can never serve the interests of landowners and cultivators to restrain or discourage the industry of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers in any respect. The greater the freedom this unproductive class enjoys, the greater the competition among all its trades, and the more cheaply the other two classes will obtain both foreign goods and the manufactured products of their own country.
Nor can it ever serve the interests of the unproductive class to oppress the other two. The surplus produce of the land—what remains after providing first for the cultivators and then for the landowners—supports and employs the unproductive class. The larger that surplus, the greater the support and employment of that class. Perfect justice, perfect liberty, and perfect equality: their establishment is the very simple secret that most effectively secures the greatest prosperity for all three classes.
The merchants, artisans, and manufacturers of mercantile states such as Holland and Hamburgh, composed chiefly of this unproductive class, are likewise supported and employed wholly at the expense of landowners and cultivators. The only difference is that most of those landowners and cultivators live at a most inconvenient distance from the merchants, artisans, and manufacturers whom they supply with materials and subsistence: they inhabit other countries and are subjects of other governments.
Yet these mercantile states are not merely useful to the inhabitants of those other countries; they are immensely useful. They fill, to some degree, an important gap, taking the place of the merchants, artisans, and manufacturers whom those inhabitants ought to find at home but, through some defect in their policy, do not.
It can never serve the interests of these landed nations, if I may call them that, to discourage or hamper the industry of mercantile states by imposing high duties on their trade or the goods they provide. Such duties, by making those goods more expensive, can only lower the real value of the surplus produce of their own land with which the goods are purchased—or, what amounts to the same thing, whose price pays for them. Such duties can only discourage the growth of that surplus and, consequently, the improvement and cultivation of their own land. The most effective way, by contrast, to raise the value of that surplus, encourage its growth, and thus improve and cultivate their own land is to give the trade of all such mercantile nations complete freedom.
Complete freedom of trade would even be the most effective way, in time, to provide them with all the artisans, manufacturers, and merchants they lacked at home, filling that important gap in the most suitable and advantageous manner.
A continual increase in their land’s surplus produce would eventually create more capital than could be employed in improving and cultivating land at the ordinary rate of profit; the excess would naturally turn to employing artisans and manufacturers at home. Finding both their materials and their means of subsistence at home, these artisans and manufacturers might at once produce as cheaply, even with much less skill and craftsmanship, as the small artisans and manufacturers of mercantile states, who must bring both from farther away. Even if a lack of skill prevented them from producing as cheaply for a time, a home market would let them sell their work there as cheaply as the work of those mercantile artisans and manufacturers, whose goods could reach it only after a long journey. As their skills improved, they would soon be able to sell for less. They would therefore immediately compete with the artisans and manufacturers of the mercantile states in the landed nations’ markets, then soon undercut and displace them entirely. As improvements in skill and craftsmanship made the landed nations’ manufactures cheaper, their sales would in time reach beyond the home market into many foreign markets, from which they would likewise gradually displace many of the mercantile nations’ manufacturers.
The continual increase in both the raw and manufactured produce of these landed nations would eventually create more capital than could be employed in agriculture or manufacturing at the ordinary rate of profit. The surplus capital would naturally turn to foreign trade, exporting the portions of the country’s raw and manufactured produce that exceeded demand at home. In exporting their own country’s produce, the merchants of a landed nation would enjoy the same sort of advantage over merchants of mercantile nations as its artisans and manufacturers enjoyed over theirs: they would find at home the cargo, stores, and provisions that the others had to seek at a distance. Thus, even with less skill in navigation, they could sell that cargo as cheaply in foreign markets as the merchants of mercantile nations; with equal skill, they could sell it more cheaply. They would soon rival those nations in this branch of foreign trade and eventually displace them altogether.
Under this liberal and generous system, therefore, the most advantageous way for a landed nation to develop its own artisans, manufacturers, and merchants is to grant complete freedom of trade to those of every other nation. In doing so, it raises the value of its own land’s surplus produce. The continual growth of that produce gradually establishes a fund that must, in time, bring forth all the artisans, manufacturers, and merchants it needs.
When a landed nation instead burdens the trade of foreign nations with high duties or prohibitions, it necessarily harms its own interests in two ways. First, by raising the price of all foreign goods and every kind of manufactured product, it necessarily lowers the real value of the surplus produce of its own land with which it buys them—or, what amounts to the same thing, whose price pays for them. Second, by granting its own merchants, artisans, and manufacturers a kind of monopoly over the home market, it raises mercantile and manufacturing profits relative to agricultural profits. It consequently draws away some capital previously employed in agriculture, or prevents some capital from going there that otherwise would have done so. This policy thus discourages agriculture in two ways: first, by reducing the real value of its produce and thereby lowering its rate of profit; second, by raising the rate of profit in every other occupation. Agriculture becomes less advantageous, and trade and manufacturing more advantageous, than they would otherwise be; each person’s interest tempts him to turn as much of his capital and industry as he can from the former to the latter.
Even if this oppressive policy enabled a landed nation to develop artisans, manufacturers, and merchants of its own somewhat sooner than freedom of trade would—a matter far from certain—it would bring them forth prematurely, before the nation was fully ready for them. In hastily promoting one kind of industry, it would depress another and more valuable kind. It would hastily promote an industry that replaces the stock employing it, together with the ordinary profit, while depressing one that not only replaces that stock and its profit but also yields a net produce, a free rent for the landowner. By encouraging barren and unproductive labor too hastily, it would depress productive labor.
Mr Quesnai, the ingenious and profound author of this system, sets out in several arithmetic formulas how, according to it, the total annual produce of the land is distributed among the three classes just mentioned, and how the labor of the unproductive class merely replaces the value of its own consumption without adding anything to that total. The first formula, which he singles out under the name of the Economical Table, shows how he supposes this distribution to take place under perfect liberty and therefore at the height of prosperity: when the annual produce yields the greatest possible net produce and each class receives its proper share of the whole. Later formulas show how he supposes it to occur under various restrictions and regulations, when either the landowning class or the barren and unproductive class is favored over the cultivators, and one or the other encroaches to some degree on the share properly belonging to that productive class. According to this system, every such encroachment, every violation of the natural distribution established by perfect liberty, must diminish, to a greater or lesser degree from year to year, the value and total amount of the annual produce. It must bring about a gradual decline in the society’s real wealth and revenue, progressing faster or slower according to how severely that natural distribution is violated. The later formulas represent the differing degrees of decline corresponding, in this system, to the differing degrees of violation of that natural distribution.
Book IV, Chapter IX, 3
18th-century English
Some speculative physicians seem to have imagined that the health of the human body could be preserved only by a certain precise regimen of diet and exercise, of which every, the smallest violation, necessarily occasioned some degree of disease or disorder proportionate to the degree of the violation. Experience, however, would seem to shew, that the human body frequently preserves, to all appearance at least, the most perfect state of health under a vast variety of different regimens; even under some which are generally believed to be very far from being perfectly wholesome. But the healthful state of the human body, it would seem, contains in itself some unknown principle of preservation, capable either of preventing or of correcting, in many respects, the bad effects even of a very faulty regimen. Mr Quesnai, who was himself a physician, and a very speculative physician, seems to have entertained a notion of the same kind concerning the political body, and to have imagined that it would thrive and prosper only under a certain precise regimen, the exact regimen of perfect liberty and perfect justice. He seems not to have considered, that in the political body, the natural effort which every man is continually making to better his own condition, is a principle of preservation capable of preventing and correcting, in many respects, the bad effects of a political economy, in some degree both partial and oppressive. Such a political economy, though it no doubt retards more or less, is not always capable of stopping altogether, the natural progress of a nation towards wealth and prosperity, and still less of making it go backwards. If a nation could not prosper without the enjoyment of perfect liberty and perfect justice, there is not in the world a nation which could ever have prospered. In the political body, however, the wisdom of nature has fortunately made ample provision for remedying many of the bad effects of the folly and injustice of man; it the same manner as it has done in the natural body, for remedying those of his sloth and intemperance.
The capital error of this system, however, seems to lie in its representing the class of artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, as altogether barren and unproductive. The following observations may serve to shew the impropriety of this representation:—
First, this class, it is acknowledged, reproduces annually the value of its own annual consumption, and continues, at least, the existence of the stock or capital which maintains and employs it. But, upon this account alone, the denomination of barren or unproductive should seem to be very improperly applied to it. We should not call a marriage barren or unproductive, though it produced only a son and a daughter, to replace the father and mother, and though it did not increase the number of the human species, but only continued it as it was before. Farmers and country labourers, indeed, over and above the stock which maintains and employs them, reproduce annually a neat produce, a free rent to the landlord. As a marriage which affords three children is certainly more productive than one which affords only two, so the labour of farmers and country labourers is certainly more productive than that of merchants, artificers, and manufacturers. The superior produce of the one class, however, does not, render the other barren or unproductive.
Secondly, it seems, on this account, altogether improper to consider artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, in the same light as menial servants. The labour of menial servants does not continue the existence of the fund which maintains and employs them. Their maintenance and employment is altogether at the expense of their masters, and the work which they perform is not of a nature to repay that expense. That work consists in services which perish generally in the very instant of their performance, and does not fix or realize itself in any vendible commodity, which can replace the value of their wages and maintenance. The labour, on the contrary, of artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, naturally does fix and realize itself in some such vendible commodity. It is upon this account that, in the chapter in which I treat of productive and unproductive labour, I have classed artificers, manufacturers, and merchants among the productive labourers, and menial servants among the barren or unproductive.
Thirdly, it seems, upon every supposition, improper to say, that the labour of artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, does not increase the real revenue of the society. Though we should suppose, for example, as it seems to be supposed in this system, that the value of the daily, monthly, and yearly consumption of this class was exactly equal to that of its daily, monthly, and yearly production; yet it would not from thence follow, that its labour added nothing to the real revenue, to the real value of the annual produce of the land and labour of the society. An artificer, for example, who, in the first six months after harvest, executes ten pounds worth of work, though he should, in the same time, consume ten pounds worth of corn and other necessaries, yet really adds the value of ten pounds to the annual produce of the land and labour of the society. While he has been consuming a half-yearly revenue of ten pounds worth of corn and other necessaries, he has produced an equal value of work, capable of purchasing, either to himself, or to some other person, an equal half-yearly revenue. The value, therefore, of what has been consumed and produced during these six months, is equal, not to ten, but to twenty pounds. It is possible, indeed, that no more than ten pounds worth of this value may ever have existed at any one moment of time. But if the ten pounds worth of corn and other necessaries which were consumed by the artificer, had been consumed by a soldier, or by a menial servant, the value of that part of the annual produce which existed at the end of the six months, would have been ten pounds less than it actually is in consequence of the labour of the artificer. Though the value of what the artificer produces, therefore, should not, at any one moment of time, be supposed greater than the value he consumes, yet, at every moment of time, the actually existing value of goods in the market is, in consequence of what he produces, greater than it otherwise would be.
When the patrons of this system assert, that the consumption of artificers, manufacturers, and merchants, is equal to the value of what they produce, they probably mean no more than that their revenue, or the fund destined for their consumption, is equal to it. But if they had expressed themselves more accurately, and only asserted, that the revenue of this class was equal to the value of what they produced, it might readily have occurred to the reader, that what would naturally be saved out of this revenue, must necessarily increase more or less the real wealth of the society. In order, therefore, to make out something like an argument, it was necessary that they should express themselves as they have done; and this argument, even supposing things actually were as it seems to presume them to be, turns out to be a very inconclusive one.
Fourthly, farmers and country labourers can no more augment, without parsimony, the real revenue, the annual produce of the land and labour of their society, than artificers, manufacturers, and merchants. The annual produce of the land and labour of any society can be augmented only in two ways; either, first, by some improvement in the productive powers of the useful labour actually maintained within it; or, secondly, by some increase in the quantity of that labour.
The improvement in the productive powers of useful labour depends, first, upon the improvement in the ability of the workman; and, secondly, upon that of the machinery with which he works. But the labour of artificers and manufacturers, as it is capable of being more subdivided, and the labour of each workman reduced to a greater simplicity of operation, than that of farmers and country labourers; so it is likewise capable of both these sorts of improvement in a much higher degree {See book i chap. 1.} In this respect, therefore, the class of cultivators can have no sort of advantage over that of artificers and manufacturers.
The increase in the quantity of useful labour actually employed within any society must depend altogether upon the increase of the capital which employs it; and the increase of that capital, again, must be exactly equal to the amount of the savings from the revenue, either of the particular persons who manage and direct the employment of that capital, or of some other persons, who lend it to them. If merchants, artificers, and manufacturers are, as this system seems to suppose, naturally more inclined to parsimony and saving than proprietors and cultivators, they are, so far, more likely to augment the quantity of useful labour employed within their society, and consequently to increase its real revenue, the annual produce of its land and labour.
Fifthly and lastly, though the revenue of the inhabitants of every country was supposed to consist altogether, as this system seems to suppose, in the quantity of subsistence which their industry could procure to them; yet, even upon this supposition, the revenue of a trading and manufacturing country must, other things being equal, always be much greater than that of one without trade or manufactures. By means of trade and manufactures, a greater quantity of subsistence can be annually imported into a particular country, than what its own lands, in the actual state of their cultivation, could afford. The inhabitants of a town, though they frequently possess no lands of their own, yet draw to themselves, by their industry, such a quantity of the rude produce of the lands of other people, as supplies them, not only with the materials of their work, but with the fund of their subsistence. What a town always is with regard to the country in its neighbourhood, one independent state or country may frequently be with regard to other independent states or countries. It is thus that Holland draws a great part of its subsistence from other countries; live cattle from Holstein and Jutland, and corn from almost all the different countries of Europe. A small quantity of manufactured produce, purchases a great quantity of rude produce. A trading and manufacturing country, therefore, naturally purchases, with a small part of its manufactured produce, a great part of the rude produce of other countries; while, on the contrary, a country without trade and manufactures is generally obliged to purchase, at the expense of a great part of its rude produce, a very small part of the manufactured produce of other countries. The one exports what can subsist and accommodate but a very few, and imports the subsistence and accommodation of a great number. The other exports the accommodation and subsistence of a great number, and imports that of a very few only. The inhabitants of the one must always enjoy a much greater quantity of subsistence than what their own lands, in the actual state of their cultivation, could afford. The inhabitants of the other must always enjoy a much smaller quantity.
This system, however, with all its imperfections, is perhaps the nearest approximation to the truth that has yet been published upon the subject of political economy; and is upon that account, well worth the consideration of every man who wishes to examine with attention the principles of that very important science. Though in representing the labour which is employed upon land as the only productive labour, the notions which it inculcates are, perhaps, too narrow and confined; yet in representing the wealth of nations as consisting, not in the unconsumable riches of money, but in the consumable goods annually reproduced by the labour of the society, and in representing perfect liberty as the only effectual expedient for rendering this annual reproduction the greatest possible, its doctrine seems to be in every respect as just as it is generous and liberal. Its followers are very numerous; and as men are fond of paradoxes, and of appearing to understand what surpasses the comprehensions of ordinary people, the paradox which it maintains, concerning the unproductive nature of manufacturing labour, has not, perhaps, contributed a little to increase the number of its admirers. They have for some years past made a pretty considerable sect, distinguished in the French republic of letters by the name of the Economists. Their works have certainly been of some service to their country; not only by bringing into general discussion, many subjects which had never been well examined before, but by influencing, in some measure, the public administration in favour of agriculture. It has been in consequence of their representations, accordingly, that the agriculture of France has been delivered from several of the oppressions which it before laboured under. The term, during which such a lease can be granted, as will be valid against every future purchaser or proprietor of the land, has been prolonged from nine to twenty-seven years. The ancient provincial restraints upon the transportation of corn from one province of the kingdom to another, have been entirely taken away; and the liberty of exporting it to all foreign countries, has been established as the common law of the kingdom in all ordinary cases. This sect, in their works, which are very numerous, and which treat not only of what is properly called Political Economy, or of the nature and causes or the wealth of nations, but of every other branch of the system of civil government, all follow implicitly, and without any sensible variation, the doctrine of Mr Qttesnai. There is, upon this account, little variety in the greater part of their works. The most distinct and best connected account of this doctrine is to be found in a little book written by Mr Mercier de la Riviere, some time intendant of Martinico, entitled, The natural and essential Order of Political Societies. The admiration of this whole sect for their master, who was himself a man of the greatest modesty and simplicity, is not inferior to that of any of the ancient philosophers for the founders of their respective systems. ‘There have been since the world began,’ says a very diligent and respectable author, the Marquis de Mirabeau, ‘three great inventions which have principally given stability to political societies, independent of many other inventions which have enriched and adorned them. The first is the invention of writing, which alone gives human nature the power of transmitting, without alteration, its laws, its contracts, its annals, and its discoveries. The second is the invention of money, which binds together all the relations between civilized societies. The third is the economical table, the result of the other two, which completes them both by perfecting their object; the great discovery of our age, but of which our posterity will reap the benefit.’
English
Some speculative physicians seem to have imagined that the human body could remain healthy only under a precise regimen of diet and exercise, and that even the smallest departure from it must cause illness or disorder proportionate to that departure. Experience, however, suggests that the body often remains, at least to all appearances, in perfect health under a vast variety of regimens, including some generally considered far from wholesome. A healthy body seems to possess an unknown principle of preservation capable, in many respects, of preventing or correcting the harmful effects even of a badly flawed regimen. Mr Quesnai, himself a physician and a highly speculative one, seems to have conceived a similar notion of the body politic: that it could thrive only under one precise regimen, that of perfect liberty and perfect justice. He seems not to have considered that every person’s continual natural effort to better his own condition is, in the body politic, a principle of preservation capable in many respects of preventing and correcting the harmful effects of an economic policy that is somewhat partial and oppressive. Such a policy undoubtedly slows a nation’s natural advance toward wealth and prosperity to some degree, but cannot always stop it entirely, still less reverse it. If no nation could prosper without perfect liberty and perfect justice, no nation in the world could ever have prospered. In the body politic, however, the wisdom of nature has fortunately made ample provision for remedying many harmful effects of human folly and injustice, just as in the natural body it remedies many effects of human sloth and excess.
The fundamental error of this system, however, seems to be its portrayal of artisans, manufacturers, and merchants as an entirely barren and unproductive class. The following observations may show why that portrayal is mistaken:
First, this class admittedly reproduces each year the value of its annual consumption, and at least preserves the stock or capital that supports and employs it. For this reason alone, it seems entirely inappropriate to call it barren or unproductive. We would not call a marriage barren or unproductive if it produced only a son and a daughter to replace the father and mother, maintaining rather than increasing the human population. Farmers and agricultural laborers do, indeed, reproduce not only the stock supporting and employing them but also a net produce, a free rent for the landowner. Just as a marriage with three children is certainly more productive than one with only two, so the labor of farmers and agricultural laborers is certainly more productive than that of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers. But the greater produce of one class does not make the other barren or unproductive.
Second, for the same reason, it is entirely inappropriate to view artisans, manufacturers, and merchants in the same light as domestic servants. The labor of domestic servants does not preserve the fund that supports and employs them. Their support and employment come entirely at their masters’ expense, and the work they do cannot repay that expense. Their services generally vanish the moment they are performed; they do not become embodied in any saleable commodity capable of replacing the value of their wages and support. The labor of artisans, manufacturers, and merchants, by contrast, naturally does become embodied in such a commodity. This is why, in the chapter where I discuss productive and unproductive labor, I counted artisans, manufacturers, and merchants among productive laborers, and domestic servants among the barren or unproductive.
Third, under any assumption it seems wrong to say that the labor of artisans, manufacturers, and merchants does not increase society’s real revenue. Even if we suppose, as this system seems to do, that the value of this class’s daily, monthly, and yearly consumption exactly equals the value of its daily, monthly, and yearly production, it does not follow that its labor adds nothing to real revenue, the real value of the annual produce of society’s land and labor. Suppose, for example, an artisan completes ten pounds worth of work in the first six months after the harvest while consuming ten pounds worth of grain and other necessities in the same period. He has nonetheless truly added a value of ten pounds to the annual produce of society’s land and labor. While consuming a half-year’s revenue of ten pounds worth of grain and other necessities, he has produced work of equal value, capable of purchasing an equal half-year’s revenue for himself or someone else. The value of what has been consumed and produced during those six months is therefore not ten but twenty pounds. It is possible, indeed, that no more than ten pounds worth of that value existed at any single moment. But if a soldier or a domestic servant had consumed the ten pounds worth of grain and other necessities consumed by the artisan, the value of the portion of the annual produce remaining at the end of six months would have been ten pounds less than it actually is because of the artisan’s labor. Thus, even if the value the artisan produces is at no moment assumed to exceed the value he consumes, the value of goods actually present in the market at every moment is greater because of his production than it otherwise would be.
When supporters of this system assert that the consumption of artisans, manufacturers, and merchants equals the value of their production, they probably mean only that their revenue, or the funds set aside for their consumption, equals it. But had they said more accurately that this class’s revenue equals the value of its production, readers might readily have seen that whatever is saved from that revenue must increase society’s real wealth to some extent. To construct anything like an argument, therefore, they had to phrase their claim as they did; and even if the facts were as their argument appears to assume, it would remain highly inconclusive.
Fourth, farmers and agricultural laborers cannot increase the real revenue—the annual produce of their society’s land and labor—without saving any more than artisans, manufacturers, and merchants can. A society’s annual produce of land and labor can be increased in only two ways: first, by improving the productive powers of the useful labor already maintained within it; or second, by increasing the quantity of that labor.
Improvements in the productive powers of useful labor depend first on improvements in workers’ ability and second on improvements in the machinery they use. Because the labor of artisans and manufacturers can be divided more finely, and each worker’s task made simpler, than the labor of farmers and agricultural laborers, it is capable of both kinds of improvement to a much greater degree [See book i chap. 1.] In this respect, therefore, cultivators have no advantage whatever over artisans and manufacturers.
The increase in useful labor actually employed in a society depends wholly on the increase in the capital employing it. That increase in capital, in turn, must exactly equal the savings from revenue of either the people who manage and direct its employment or others who lend it to them. If merchants, artisans, and manufacturers are, as this system seems to suppose, naturally more inclined to thrift and saving than landowners and cultivators, they are correspondingly more likely to increase the useful labor employed in their society and, consequently, its real revenue: the annual produce of its land and labor.
Fifth and finally, even if the inhabitants’ revenue in every country consisted entirely, as this system seems to suppose, of the subsistence their industry could obtain, the revenue of a trading and manufacturing country would still, all else being equal, always be far greater than that of a country without trade or manufacturing. Trade and manufacturing allow a country to import more subsistence each year than its own land could provide in its present state of cultivation. The inhabitants of a town, though often owning no land themselves, draw through their industry enough of the raw produce of other people’s land to provide both their working materials and their subsistence. What a town always is in relation to the surrounding countryside, one independent state or country can often be in relation to other independent states or countries. Thus Holland draws a great part of its subsistence from other countries: live cattle from Holstein and Jutland, and grain from nearly every country in Europe. A small quantity of manufactured produce buys a great quantity of raw produce. A trading and manufacturing country therefore naturally buys much of other countries’ raw produce with a small part of its own manufactured produce; a country without trade and manufacturing, conversely, generally has to surrender much of its raw produce to buy a very small part of other countries’ manufactured produce. One exports what can support and accommodate very few people and imports the means of supporting and accommodating many. The other exports the means of supporting and accommodating many and imports enough for only a few. The inhabitants of the first must always enjoy much more subsistence than their own land could provide in its present state of cultivation. The inhabitants of the second must always enjoy much less.
For all its imperfections, however, this system is perhaps the closest approach to the truth yet published on political economy, and for that reason deserves the attention of everyone who wishes to examine the principles of that important science. Its insistence that labor employed on the land is the only productive labor may be too narrow; yet its doctrine is as sound as it is generous and liberal in maintaining that the wealth of nations consists not of money, riches that cannot be consumed, but of consumable goods reproduced annually by society’s labor, and that perfect liberty is the only effective way of making that annual reproduction as great as possible. Its followers are numerous. Because people are fond of paradoxes, and of appearing to understand what lies beyond the grasp of ordinary people, its paradox about the unproductive nature of manufacturing labor has perhaps done much to increase its admirers. For some years they have formed a sizable school known in the French republic of letters as the Economists. Their writings have certainly served their country, not only by opening to general discussion many subjects never properly examined before, but also by influencing public administration to some degree in favor of agriculture. In response to their arguments, French agriculture has been freed from several burdens under which it formerly labored. The term for which a lease can be granted so as to bind every future buyer or owner of the land has been extended from nine to twenty-seven years. The old provincial restrictions on moving grain from one province of the kingdom to another have been entirely removed; and freedom to export it to every foreign country has become the general law of the kingdom in ordinary cases. In their many works, which address not only Political Economy properly so called, or the nature and causes of the wealth of nations, but every other branch of civil government, this school follows the doctrine of Mr Quesnai implicitly and with no significant variation. Their writings therefore offer little variety for the most part. The clearest and most coherent account of the doctrine appears in a small book by Mr Mercier de la Riviere, formerly intendant of Martinico, entitled The natural and essential Order of Political Societies. The admiration of this entire school for its master, himself a man of the greatest modesty and simplicity, rivals that of any ancient philosophers for the founders of their systems. “Since the world began,” says a diligent and respected writer, the Marquis de Mirabeau, “there have been three great inventions chiefly responsible for the stability of political societies, apart from the many other inventions that have enriched and adorned them. First is writing, which alone gives humanity the power to transmit its laws, contracts, annals, and discoveries without alteration. Second is money, which binds together all relations among civilized societies. Third is the economical table, the outcome of the other two, completing both by perfecting their purpose: the great discovery of our age, whose benefits our posterity will reap.”
Book IV, Chapter IX, 4
18th-century English
As the political economy of the nations of modern Europe has been more favourable to manufactures and foreign trade, the industry of the towns, than to agriculture, the industry of the country; so that of other nations has followed a different plan, and has been more favourable to agriculture than to manufactures and foreign trade.
The policy of China favours agriculture more than all other employments. In China, the condition of a labourer is said to be as much superior to that of an artificer, as in most parts of Europe that of an artificer is to that of a labourer. In China, the great ambition of every man is to get possession of a little bit of land, either in property or in lease; and leases are there said to be granted upon very moderate terms, and to be sufficiently secured to the lessees. The Chinese have little respect for foreign trade. Your beggarly commerce! was the language in which the mandarins of Pekin used to talk to Mr De Lange, the Russian envoy, concerning it {See the Journal of Mr De Lange, in Bell’s Travels, vol. ii. p. 258, 276, 293.}. Except with Japan, the Chinese carry on, themselves, and in their own bottoms, little or no foreign trade; and it is only into one or two ports of their kingdom that they even admit the ships of foreign nations. Foreign trade, therefore, is, in China, every way confined within a much narrower circle than that to which it would naturally extend itself, if more freedom was allowed to it, either in their own ships, or in those of foreign nations.
Manufactures, as in a small bulk they frequently contain a great value, and can upon that account be transported at less expense from one country to another than most parts of rude produce, are, in almost all countries, the principal support of foreign trade. In countries, besides, less extensive, and less favourably circumstanced for inferior commerce than China, they generally require the support of foreign trade. Without an extensive foreign market, they could not well flourish, either in countries so moderately extensive as to afford but a narrow home market, or in countries where the communication between one province and another was so difficult, as to render it impossible for the goods of any particular place to enjoy the whole of that home market which the country could afford. The perfection of manufacturing industry, it must be remembered, depends altogether upon the division of labour; and the degree to which the division of labour can be introduced into any manufacture, is necessarily regulated, it has already been shewn, by the extent of the market. But the great extent of the empire of China, the vast multitude of its inhabitants, the variety of climate, and consequently of productions in its different provinces, and the easy communication by means of water-carriage between the greater part of them, render the home market of that country of so great extent, as to be alone sufficient to support very great manufactures, and to admit of very considerable subdivisions of labour. The home market of China is, perhaps, in extent, not much inferior to the market of all the different countries of Europe put together. A more extensive foreign trade, however, which to this great home market added the foreign market of all the rest of the world, especially if any considerable part of this trade was carried on in Chinese ships, could scarce fail to increase very much the manufactures of China, and to improve very much the productive powers of its manufacturing industry. By a more extensive navigation, the Chinese would naturally learn the art of using and constructing, themselves, all the different machines made use of in other countries, as well as the other improvements of art and industry which are practised in all the different parts of the world. Upon their present plan, they have little opportunity of improving themselves by the example of any other nation, except that of the Japanese.
The policy of ancient Egypt, too, and that of the Gentoo government of Indostan, seem to have favoured agriculture more than all other employments.
Both in ancient Egypt and Indostan, the whole body of the people was divided into different casts or tribes each of which was confined, from father to son, to a particular employment, or class of employments. The son of a priest was necessarily a priest; the son of a soldier, a soldier; the son of a labourer, a labourer; the son of a weaver, a weaver; the son of a tailor, a tailor, etc. In both countries, the cast of the priests holds the highest rank, and that of the soldiers the next; and in both countries the cast of the farmers and labourers was superior to the casts of merchants and manufacturers.
The government of both countries was particularly attentive to the interest of agriculture. The works constructed by the ancient sovereigns of Egypt, for the proper distribution of the waters of the Nile, were famous in antiquity, and the ruined remains of some of them are still the admiration of travellers. Those of the same kind which were constructed by the ancient sovereigns of Indostan, for the proper distribution of the waters of the Ganges, as well as of many other rivers, though they have been less celebrated, seem to have been equally great. Both countries, accordingly, though subject occasionally to dearths, have been famous for their great fertility. Though both were extremely populous, yet, in years of moderate plenty, they were both able to export great quantities of grain to their neighbours.
The ancient Egyptians had a superstitious aversion to the sea; and as the Gentoo religion does not permit its followers to light a fire, nor consequently to dress any victuals, upon the water, it, in effect, prohibits them from all distant sea voyages. Both the Egyptians and Indians must have depended almost altogether upon the navigation of other nations for the exportation of their surplus produce; and this dependency, as it must have confined the market, so it must have discouraged the increase of this surplus produce. It must have discouraged, too, the increase of the manufactured produce, more than that of the rude produce. Manufactures require a much more extensive market than the most important parts of the rude produce of the land. A single shoemaker will make more than 300 pairs of shoes in the year; and his own family will not, perhaps, wear out six pairs. Unless, therefore, he has the custom of, at least, 50 such families as his own, he cannot dispose of the whole product of his own labour. The most numerous class of artificers will seldom, in a large country, make more than one in 50, or one in a 100, of the whole number of families contained in it. But in such large countries, as France and England, the number of people employed in agriculture has, by some authors been computed at a half, by others at a third and by no author that I know of, at less that a fifth of the whole inhabitants of the country. But as the produce of the agriculture of both France and England is, the far greater part of it, consumed at home, each person employed in it must, according to these computations, require little more than the custom of one, two, or, at most, of four such families as his own, in order to dispose of the whole produce of his own labour. Agriculture, therefore, can support itself under the discouragement of a confined market much better than manufactures. In both ancient Egypt and Indostan, indeed, the confinement of the foreign market was in some measure compensated by the conveniency of many inland navigations, which opened, in the most advantageous manner, the whole extent of the home market to every part of the produce of every different district of those countries. The great extent of Indostan, too, rendered the home market of that country very great, and sufficient to support a great variety of manufactures. But the small extent of ancient Egypt, which was never equal to England, must at all times, have rendered the home market of that country too narrow for supporting any great variety of manufactures. Bengal accordingly, the province of Indostan which commonly exports the greatest quantity of rice, has always been more remarkable for the exportation of a great variety of manufactures, than for that of its grain. Ancient Egypt, on the contrary, though it exported some manufactures, fine linen in particular, as well as some other goods, was always most distinguished for its great exportation of grain. It was long the granary of the Roman empire.
The sovereigns of China, of ancient Egypt, and of the different kingdoms into which Indostan has, at different times, been divided, have always derived the whole, or by far the most considerable part, of their revenue, from some sort of land tax or land rent. This land tax, or land rent, like the tithe in Europe, consisted in a certain proportion, a fifth, it is said, of the produce of the land, which was either delivered in kind, or paid in money, according to a certain valuation, and which, therefore, varied from year to year, according to all the variations of the produce. It was natural, therefore, that the sovereigns of those countries should be particularly attentive to the interests of agriculture, upon the prosperity or declension of which immediately depended the yearly increase or diminution of their own revenue.
The policy of the ancient republics of Greece, and that of Rome, though it honoured agriculture more than manufactures or foreign trade, yet seems rather to have discouraged the latter employments, than to have given any direct or intentional encouragement to the former. In several of the ancient states of Greece, foreign trade was prohibited altogether; and in several others, the employments of artificers and manufacturers were considered as hurtful to the strength and agility of the human body, as rendering it incapable of those habits which their military and gymnastic exercises endeavoured to form in it, and as thereby disqualifying it, more or less, for undergoing the fatigues and encountering the dangers of war. Such occupations were considered as fit only for slaves, and the free citizens of the states were prohibited from exercising them. Even in those states where no such prohibition took place, as in Rome and Athens, the great body of the people were in effect excluded from all the trades which are now commonly exercised by the lower sort of the inhabitants of towns. Such trades were, at Athens and Rome, all occupied by the slaves of the rich, who exercised them for the benefit of their masters, whose wealth, power, and protection, made it almost impossible for a poor freeman to find a market for his work, when it came into competition with that of the slaves of the rich. Slaves, however, are very seldom inventive; and all the most important improvements, either in machinery, or in the arrangement and distribution of work, which facilitate and abridge labour have been the discoveries of freemen. Should a slave propose any improvement of this kind, his master would be very apt to consider the proposal as the suggestion of laziness, and of a desire to save his own labour at the master’s expense. The poor slave, instead of reward would probably meet with much abuse, perhaps with some punishment. In the manufactures carried on by slaves, therefore, more labour must generally have been employed to execute the same quantity of work, than in those carried on by freemen. The work of the farmer must, upon that account, generally have been dearer than that of the latter. The Hungarian mines, it is remarked by Mr Montesquieu, though not richer, have always been wrought with less expense, and therefore with more profit, than the Turkish mines in their neighbourhood. The Turkish mines are wrought by slaves; and the arms of those slaves are the only machines which the Turks have ever thought of employing. The Hungarian mines are wrought by freemen, who employ a great deal of machinery, by which they facilitate and abridge their own labour. From the very little that is known about the price of manufactures in the times of the Greeks and Romans, it would appear that those of the finer sort were excessively dear. Silk sold for its weight in gold. It was not, indeed, in those times an European manufacture; and as it was all brought from the East Indies, the distance of the carriage may in some measure account for the greatness of the price. The price, however, which a lady, it is said, would sometimes pay for a piece of very fine linen, seems to have been equally extravagant; and as linen was always either an European, or at farthest, an Egyptian manufacture, this high price can be accounted for only by the great expense of the labour which must have been employed about It, and the expense of this labour again could arise from nothing but the awkwardness of the machinery which is made use of. The price of fine woollens, too, though not quite so extravagant, seems, however, to have been much above that of the present times. Some cloths, we are told by Pliny {Plin. 1. ix.c.39.}, dyed in a particular manner, cost a hundred denarii, or £3:6s:8d. the pound weight. Others, dyed in another manner, cost a thousand denarii the pound weight, or £33:6s:8d. The Roman pound, it must be remembered, contained only twelve of our avoirdupois ounces. This high price, indeed, seems to have been principally owing to the dye. But had not the cloths themselves been much dearer than any which are made in the present times, so very expensive a dye would not probably have been bestowed upon them. The disproportion would have been too great between the value of the accessory and that of the principal. The price mentioned by the same author {Plin. 1. viii.c.48.}, of some triclinaria, a sort of woollen pillows or cushions made use of to lean upon as they reclined upon their couches at table, passes all credibility; some of them being said to have cost more than £30,000, others more than £300,000. This high price, too, is not said to have arisen from the dye. In the dress of the people of fashion of both sexes, there seems to have been much less variety, it is observed by Dr Arbuthnot, in ancient than in modern times; and the very little variety which we find in that of the ancient statues, confirms his observation. He infers from this, that their dress must, upon the whole, have been cheaper than ours; but the conclusion does not seem to follow. When the expense of fashionable dress is very great, the variety must be very small. But when, by the improvements in the productive powers of manufacturing art and industry, the expense of any one dress comes to be very moderate, the variety will naturally be very great. The rich, not being able to distinguish themselves by the expense of any one dress, will naturally endeavour to do so by the multitude and variety of their dresses.
English
Just as the political economy of modern European nations has favored manufacturing and foreign trade, the industry of towns, over agriculture, the industry of the countryside, so that of other nations has followed a different course and favored agriculture over manufacturing and foreign trade.
China’s policy favors agriculture above all other occupations. The condition of a laborer in China is said to stand as far above that of an artisan as an artisan’s condition in most of Europe stands above a laborer’s. Every man in China aspires to obtain a small piece of land, whether owned or leased; leases are said to be granted on very moderate terms and to give tenants sufficient security. The Chinese have little regard for foreign trade. “Your beggarly commerce!” was how the mandarins of Pekin used to speak of it to Mr De Lange, the Russian envoy [See the Journal of Mr De Lange, in Bell’s Travels, vol. ii. p. 258, 276, 293.]. Except for trade with Japan, the Chinese themselves conduct little or no foreign trade in their own ships, and they admit foreign ships into only one or two ports of their kingdom. Foreign trade in China is thus restricted in every respect to a much narrower compass than it would naturally reach if it had greater freedom, whether in Chinese or foreign ships.
Manufactured goods often contain great value in a small bulk, and can therefore be carried between countries at less expense than most raw produce; in almost every country, they are the principal support of foreign trade. Moreover, in countries smaller and less favorably situated for internal commerce than China, manufacturing generally needs the support of foreign trade. Without an extensive foreign market, it could scarcely flourish either where the country is only moderately large and so has a limited home market, or where travel between provinces is so difficult that the goods of any one place cannot reach the whole home market the country offers. We must remember that the excellence of manufacturing depends entirely on the division of labor, and that, as already shown, the extent of the market necessarily governs how far labor can be divided in any manufacture. But China’s immense territory, its vast population, the variety of its climates and hence of the products of its provinces, and the easy waterborne communication among most of them give it a home market so extensive that it alone can sustain substantial manufacturing and permit a considerable division of labor. China’s home market may be little smaller than the markets of all the European countries combined. Yet a wider foreign trade, adding the rest of the world’s markets to this great home market, could scarcely fail to increase Chinese manufacturing greatly and greatly improve its productive powers, particularly if a substantial share of that trade were carried in Chinese ships. With more extensive navigation, the Chinese would naturally learn to use and build for themselves the various machines used abroad, as well as to adopt the other improvements in craftsmanship and industry practiced throughout the world. Under their present system, they have little opportunity to learn by the example of any other nation except Japan.
The policies of ancient Egypt and of the Gentoo government of Indostan also appear to have favored agriculture above all other occupations.
In both ancient Egypt and Indostan, the whole population was divided into different castes or tribes, each confined from father to son to a particular occupation or group of occupations. A priest’s son had to be a priest; a soldier’s son, a soldier; a laborer’s son, a laborer; a weaver’s son, a weaver; a tailor’s son, a tailor; and so on. In both countries, priests held the highest rank and soldiers the next; in both, the caste of farmers and laborers ranked above those of merchants and manufacturers.
Both governments paid particular attention to agriculture. The works built by Egypt’s ancient rulers to distribute the Nile’s waters properly were famous in antiquity, and the surviving ruins of some still inspire travelers’ admiration. Similar works built by the ancient rulers of Indostan to distribute the waters of the Ganges and many other rivers, though less celebrated, seem to have been equally grand. Both countries were consequently famous for their great fertility, though they occasionally suffered shortages. Despite their immense populations, both could export great quantities of grain to their neighbors in years of moderately abundant harvests.
The ancient Egyptians held a superstitious aversion to the sea. The Gentoo religion forbids its followers to light a fire on the water and therefore to cook food there, effectively barring them from long sea voyages. Egyptians and Indians alike must have depended almost entirely on the ships of other nations to export their surplus produce. This dependence must have limited their markets and discouraged growth in that surplus. It must have discouraged growth in manufactured produce still more than in raw produce. Manufactured goods need a much larger market than the most important kinds of raw produce from the land. One shoemaker will make more than 300 pairs of shoes in a year, while his own family may wear out fewer than six. Unless he has at least 50 families like his own as customers, he cannot sell all he makes. Even the largest class of artisans in a large country will seldom amount to more than one in 50, or one in a 100, of all its families. But some writers have calculated that half the population of such large countries as France and England works in agriculture, others a third, and none I know of less than a fifth. Since by far the greater part of those countries’ agricultural produce is consumed at home, each agricultural worker, on these estimates, needs scarcely more than one, two, or at most four families like his own as customers to dispose of all he produces. Agriculture can therefore sustain itself under a limited market far better than manufacturing. In ancient Egypt and Indostan, indeed, the limitation of foreign markets was partly offset by the convenience of many inland waterways, which opened the entire home market to the produce of every district in the most advantageous manner. Indostan’s great extent, moreover, gave it a very large home market, sufficient to support a wide variety of manufactures. But ancient Egypt, never as large as England, must always have had too small a home market to support any great variety. Accordingly, Bengal, the province of Indostan that commonly exports the most rice, has always been more notable for exporting a great variety of manufactured goods than for exporting grain. Ancient Egypt, by contrast, though it exported some manufactured goods, especially fine linen, along with other wares, was always best known for its vast grain exports. For a long time it was the granary of the Roman empire.
The rulers of China, ancient Egypt, and the various kingdoms into which Indostan has at different times been divided have always drawn all, or by far the greatest part, of their revenue from some kind of land tax or land rent. Like the European tithe, this tax or rent consisted of a fixed share—one fifth, it is said—of the land’s produce, either delivered in kind or paid in money at a prescribed valuation. It therefore varied from year to year as the harvest varied. It was natural, then, that the rulers of these countries should attend closely to agriculture, whose flourishing or decline directly determined the annual increase or decrease of their own revenue.
The policy of the ancient Greek republics and of Rome honored agriculture above manufacturing and foreign trade, yet seems to have discouraged these latter occupations rather than deliberately encouraged the former. In several ancient Greek states foreign trade was altogether prohibited; in several others, the occupations of artisans and manufacturers were considered harmful to the body’s strength and agility. They were thought to make a person incapable of developing the habits encouraged by military and gymnastic exercises, and thus more or less unfit to endure the hardships and face the dangers of war. Such occupations were judged suitable only for slaves, and free citizens were forbidden to practice them. Even in states without such a prohibition, including Rome and Athens, most people were effectively excluded from trades now commonly practiced by poorer townspeople. In Athens and Rome all these trades were carried on by the slaves of the rich for their masters’ benefit. The wealth, power, and protection of those masters made it almost impossible for a poor free person to find a market for work competing with that of their slaves. Slaves, however, are very seldom inventive. The most important improvements in machinery and in the organization and division of work that make labor easier and shorter have been discovered by free people. If a slave proposed such an improvement, his master would be apt to see it as an excuse for laziness, a wish to spare himself labor at his master’s expense. The unfortunate slave, rather than being rewarded, would probably be abused and perhaps punished. Manufacturing performed by slaves must therefore generally have required more labor to produce the same quantity of work than manufacturing performed by free people. The work of the former must consequently have been generally more expensive than that of the latter. Mr Montesquieu observes that the Hungarian mines, though no richer than nearby Turkish mines, have always been worked at less expense and therefore with greater profit. Turkish mines are worked by slaves, whose arms are the only machines the Turks have ever thought to employ. Hungarian mines are worked by free people who use much machinery to make their labor easier and shorter. From the little known about manufacturing prices in Greek and Roman times, finer goods appear to have been extraordinarily expensive. Silk sold for its weight in gold. It was not then manufactured in Europe; since all of it came from the East Indies, the long journey may partly explain its great price. But the price a lady would sometimes pay, it is said, for a piece of very fine linen appears equally extravagant. Since linen was always made either in Europe or, at the farthest, in Egypt, its high price can be explained only by the great expense of the labor involved; that expense, in turn, could only have resulted from the clumsiness of the machinery used. Fine woolens also seem to have cost much more than they do today, though their prices were not quite so extravagant. Pliny tells us [Plin. 1. ix.c.39.] that some cloths dyed in a particular fashion cost a hundred denarii, or £3:6s:8d. the pound weight. Others, dyed differently, cost a thousand denarii the pound weight, or £33:6s:8d. We must remember that the Roman pound contained only twelve of our avoirdupois ounces. This high price does seem to have been principally due to the dye. But if the cloths themselves had not been far more expensive than any made today, so costly a dye would probably never have been used on them: the disparity between the value of the accessory and that of the principal would have been too great. The same writer gives the price [Plin. 1. viii.c.48.] of certain triclinaria, woolen pillows or cushions on which people leaned while reclining at table, at a scarcely credible figure: some are said to have cost more than £30,000, others more than £300,000. Nor is this high price said to have resulted from the dye. Dr Arbuthnot observes that fashionable dress among both sexes appears to have been much less varied in ancient than in modern times; the very limited variety visible in ancient statues confirms his observation. He concludes that clothing must therefore have been cheaper overall then than now, but that conclusion does not seem to follow. When fashionable dress costs a great deal, variety must be limited. When improvements in the productive powers of manufacturing skill and industry make any single outfit moderately priced, variety will naturally be great. Unable to distinguish themselves through the expense of a single outfit, rich people will naturally try to do so through the number and variety of their clothes.
Book IV, Chapter IX, 5
18th-century English
The greatest and most important branch of the commerce of every nation, it has already been observed, is that which is carried on between the inhabitants of the town and those of the country. The inhabitants of the town draw from the country the rude produce, which constitutes both the materials of their work and the fund of their subsistence; and they pay for this rude produce, by sending back to the country a certain portion of it manufactured and prepared for immediate use. The trade which is carried on between these two different sets of people, consists ultimately in a certain quantity of rude produce exchanged for a certain quantity of manufactured produce. The dearer the latter, therefore, the cheaper the former; and whatever tends in any country to raise the price of manufactured produce, tends to lower that of the rude produce of the land, and thereby to discourage agriculture. The smaller the quantity of manufactured produce, which any given quantity of rude produce, or, what comes to the same thing, which the price of any given quantity of rude produce, is capable of purchasing, the smaller the exchangeable value of that given quantity of rude produce; the smaller the encouragement which either the landlord has to increase its quantity by improving, or the farmer by cultivating the land. Whatever, besides, tends to diminish in any country the number of artificers and manufacturers, tends to diminish the home market, the most important of all markets, for the rude produce of the land, and thereby still further to discourage agriculture.
Those systems, therefore, which preferring agriculture to all other employments, in order to promote it, impose restraints upon manufactures and foreign trade, act contrary to the very end which they propose, and indirectly discourage that very species of industry which they mean to promote. They are so far, perhaps, more inconsistent than even the mercantile system. That system, by encouraging manufactures and foreign trade more than agriculture, turns a certain portion of the capital of the society, from supporting a more advantageous, to support a less advantageous species of industry. But still it really, and in the end, encourages that species of industry which it means to promote. Those agricultural systems, on the contrary, really, and in the end, discourage their own favourite species of industry.
It is thus that every system which endeavours, either, by extraordinary encouragements to draw towards a particular species of industry a greater share of the capital of the society than what would naturally go to it, or, by extraordinary restraints, to force from a particular species of industry some share of the capital which would otherwise be employed in it, is, in reality, subversive of the great purpose which it means to promote. It retards, instead of accelerating the progress of the society towards real wealth and greatness; and diminishes, instead of increasing, the real value of the annual produce of its land and labour.
All systems, either of preference or of restraint, therefore, being thus completely taken away, the obvious and simple system of natural liberty establishes itself of its own accord. Every man, as long as he does not violate the laws of justice, is left perfectly free to pursue his own interest his own way, and to bring both his industry and capital into competition with those of any other man, or order of men. The sovereign is completely discharged from a duty, in the attempting to perform which he must always be exposed to innumerable delusions, and for the proper performance of which, no human wisdom or knowledge could ever be sufficient; the duty of superintending the industry of private people, and of directing it towards the employments most suitable to the interests of the society. According to the system of natural liberty, the sovereign has only three duties to attend to; three duties of great importance, indeed, but plain and intelligible to common understandings: first, the duty of protecting the society from the violence and invasion of other independent societies; secondly, the duty of protecting, as far as possible, every member of the society from the injustice or oppression of every other member of it, or the duty of establishing an exact administration of justice; and, thirdly, the duty of erecting and maintaining certain public works, and certain public institutions, which it can never be for the interest of any individual, or small number of individuals to erect and maintain; because the profit could never repay the expense to any individual, or small number of individuals, though it may frequently do much more than repay it to a great society.
The proper performance of those several duties of the sovereign necessarily supposes a certain expense; and this expense again necessarily requires a certain revenue to support it. In the following book, therefore, I shall endeavour to explain, first, what are the necessary expenses of the sovereign or commonwealth; and which of those expenses ought to be defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society; and which of them, by that of some particular part only, or of some particular members of the society: secondly, what are the different methods in which the whole society may be made to contribute towards defraying the expenses incumbent on the whole society; and what are the principal advantages and inconveniencies of each of those methods: and thirdly, what are the reasons and causes which have induced almost all modern governments to mortgage some part of this revenue, or to contract debts; and what have been the effects of those debts upon the real wealth, the annual produce of the land and labour of the society. The following book, therefore, will naturally be divided into three chapters.
APPENDIX TO BOOK IV
The two following accounts are subjoined, in order to illustrate and confirm what is said in the fifth chapter of the fourth book, concerning the Tonnage Bounty to the Whit-herring Fishery. The reader, I believe, may depend upon the accuracy of both accounts.
An account of Busses fitted out in Scotland for eleven Years, with the Number of empty Barrels carried out, and the Number of Barrels of Herrings caught; also the Bounty, at a Medium, on each Barrel of Sea-sricks, and on each Barrel when fully packed.
Years Number of Empty Barrels Barrels of Her- Bounty paid on Busses carried out rings caught the Busses £. s. d. 1771 29 5,948 2,832 2,885 0 0 1772 168 41,316 22,237 11,055 7 6 1773 190 42,333 42,055 12,510 8 6 1774 240 59,303 56,365 26,932 2 6 1775 275 69,144 52,879 19,315 15 0 1776 294 76,329 51,863 21,290 7 6 1777 240 62,679 43,313 17,592 2 6 1778 220 56,390 40,958 16,316 2 6 1779 206 55,194 29,367 15,287 0 0 1780 181 48,315 19,885 13,445 12 6 1781 135 33,992 16,593 9,613 15 6
Totals 2,186 550,943 378,347 £165,463 14 0
Sea-sticks 378,347 Bounty, at a medium, for each barrel of sea-sticks, £ 0 8 2¼ But a barrel of sea-sticks being only reckoned two thirds of a barrel fully packed, one third to be deducted, which ⅓ deducted 126,115 brings the bounty to £ 0 12 3¾ Barrels fully packed 252,231
And if the herrings are exported, there is besides a premium of £ 0 2 8 So the bounty paid by government in money for each barrel is £ 0 14 11¾
But if to this, the duty of the salt usually taken credit for as expended in curing each barrel, which at a medium, is, of foreign, one bushel and one- fourth of a bushel, at 10s. a-bushel, be added, viz 0 12 6 the bounty on each barrel would amount to £ 1 7 5¾
If the herrings are cured with British salt, it will stand thus, viz. Bounty as before £ 0 14 11¾ But if to this bounty, the duty on two bushels of Scotch salt, at 1s.6d. per bushel, supposed to be the quantity, at a medium, used in curing each barrel is added, viz. 0 3 0 The bounty on each barrel will amount to £ 0 17 11¾
And when buss herrings are entered for home consumption in Scotland, and pay the shilling a barrel of duty, the bounty stands thus, to wit, as before £ 0 12 3¾ From which the shilling a barrel is to be deducted 0 1 0 £ 0 11 3¾
But to that there is to be added again, the duty of the foreign salt used curing a barrel of herring viz 0 12 6 So that the premium allowed for each barrel of her- rings entered for home consumption is £ 1 3 9¾
If the herrings are cured in British salt, it will stand as follows viz. Bounty on each barrel brought in by the busses, as above £ 0 12 3¾ From which deduct 1s. a-barrel, paid at the time they are entered for home consumption 0 1 0 £ 0 11 3¾
But if to the bounty, the the duty on two bushel of Scotch salt, at 1s.6d. per bushel supposed to be the quantity, at a medium, used in curing each barrel, is added, viz 0 3 0 the premium for each barrel entered for home consumption will be £ 1 14 3¾
Though the loss of duties upon herrings exported cannot, perhaps, properly be considered as bounty, that upon herrings entered for home consumption certainly may.
An account of the Quantity of Foreign Salt imported into Scotland, and of Scotch Salt delivered Duty-free from the Works there, for the Fishery, from the 5th. of April 1771 to the 5th. of April 1782 with the Medium of both for one Year.
Foreign Salt Scotch Salt delivered PERIOD imported from the Works Bushels Bushels
From 5th. April 1771 to 5th. April 1782 936,974 168,226 Medium for one year 85,159½ 15,293¼
It is to be observed, that the bushel of foreign salt weighs 48lbs., that of British weighs 56lbs. only.
English
The greatest and most important branch of any nation's commerce, as already observed, is the trade between town and country. The townspeople obtain from the country the raw produce that supplies both the materials for their work and the means of their subsistence; they pay for it by sending back a portion of that produce manufactured and made ready for immediate use. Trade between these two groups thus amounts, in the end, to exchanging a quantity of raw produce for a quantity of manufactured goods. The dearer the latter become, therefore, the cheaper the former become; and whatever raises the price of manufactured goods in a country lowers the price of the land's raw produce and thereby discourages agriculture. The less manufactured produce a given quantity of raw produce—or, equivalently, its price—can buy, the less that raw produce is worth in exchange, and the less incentive the landlord has to increase its quantity by improving the land, or the farmer by cultivating it. Moreover, anything that reduces a country's number of artisans and manufacturers diminishes the home market—the most important market of all—for the land's raw produce, and so discourages agriculture still further.
Systems that favor agriculture over every other occupation and, to promote it, restrain manufactures and foreign trade thus work against their own declared purpose: indirectly they discourage the very industry they intend to promote. In this respect they may be even less consistent than the mercantile system. By favoring manufactures and foreign trade over agriculture, that system diverts some of society's capital from supporting a more advantageous industry to supporting a less advantageous one. Yet in the end it really does encourage the industry it intends to promote. Agricultural systems, by contrast, ultimately discourage their own favored industry.
Thus any system that tries, by extraordinary incentives, to draw more of society's capital into a particular industry than would naturally go there—or, by extraordinary restraints, to drive away some capital that would otherwise be employed there—actually undermines the great purpose it means to advance. Instead of hastening society's progress toward real wealth and greatness, it delays it; instead of increasing the real value of the annual produce of its land and labor, it reduces it.
Once all systems of preference or restraint are thus completely removed, the obvious and simple system of natural liberty establishes itself of its own accord. Every person, so long as he does not violate the laws of justice, is entirely free to pursue his own interest in his own way and to bring both his industry and his capital into competition with those of any other person or group. The sovereign is relieved altogether of a duty in attempting which he must always be exposed to innumerable delusions, and for whose proper fulfillment no human wisdom or knowledge could ever suffice: supervising the industry of private people and directing it to the uses best suited to society's interests. Under the system of natural liberty, the sovereign has only three duties, important indeed, but plain and intelligible to ordinary minds: first, protecting society against the violence and invasion of other independent societies; second, protecting, as far as possible, every member of society against the injustice or oppression of every other member, or establishing an exact administration of justice; and third, building and maintaining certain public works and institutions that no individual, nor any small group of individuals, could ever find it in their interest to build and maintain, since the profit could never repay their expense, though it may often repay society as a whole far more than its expense.
The proper fulfillment of these several duties of the sovereign necessarily entails expense, which in turn requires revenue to support it. In the following book, therefore, I shall endeavor to explain, first, the necessary expenses of the sovereign or commonwealth, and which of them ought to be paid by a general contribution from all society and which by some particular part or particular members of it; second, the different ways in which society as a whole may be made to contribute toward its common expenses, and the principal advantages and disadvantages of each; and third, the reasons and causes that have led almost all modern governments to mortgage part of this revenue or to incur debts, and the effects of those debts upon real wealth—the annual produce of society's land and labor. The following book will therefore naturally fall into three chapters.
APPENDIX TO BOOK IV
The following two accounts are appended to illustrate and confirm what is said in the fifth chapter of the fourth book about the tonnage bounty for the white-herring fishery. I believe the reader may rely on the accuracy of both accounts.
An account of busses fitted out in Scotland for eleven years, showing the number of empty barrels carried out and barrels of herrings caught; also the average bounty on each barrel of sea-sticks and on each fully packed barrel.
Years Number of Empty Barrels Barrels of Her- Bounty paid on Busses carried out rings caught the Busses £. s. d. 1771 29 5,948 2,832 2,885 0 0 1772 168 41,316 22,237 11,055 7 6 1773 190 42,333 42,055 12,510 8 6 1774 240 59,303 56,365 26,932 2 6 1775 275 69,144 52,879 19,315 15 0 1776 294 76,329 51,863 21,290 7 6 1777 240 62,679 43,313 17,592 2 6 1778 220 56,390 40,958 16,316 2 6 1779 206 55,194 29,367 15,287 0 0 1780 181 48,315 19,885 13,445 12 6 1781 135 33,992 16,593 9,613 15 6
Totals 2,186 550,943 378,347 £165,463 14 0
Sea-sticks 378,347 Average bounty for each barrel of sea-sticks, £ 0 8 2¼ But since a barrel of sea-sticks is reckoned as only two thirds of a fully packed barrel, one third must be deducted; deducting ⅓ 126,115 brings the bounty to £ 0 12 3¾ Fully packed barrels 252,231
And if the herrings are exported, there is also a premium of £ 0 2 8 Thus the bounty paid in money by the government for each barrel is £ 0 14 11¾
But if the duty on the salt usually credited as used in curing each barrel is added—on average, one bushel and one-fourth of a bushel of foreign salt, at 10s. a bushel—namely 0 12 6 the bounty on each barrel amounts to £ 1 7 5¾
If the herrings are cured with British salt, the account stands thus: Bounty as before £ 0 14 11¾ But add the duty on two bushels of Scotch salt at 1s.6d. per bushel, assumed to be the average quantity used in curing each barrel, namely 0 3 0 The bounty on each barrel amounts to £ 0 17 11¾
And when buss herrings are entered for home consumption in Scotland and pay the duty of a shilling per barrel, the bounty stands thus, as before £ 0 12 3¾ From this deduct the shilling per barrel 0 1 0 £ 0 11 3¾
But to this add again the duty on the foreign salt used in curing a barrel of herring, namely 0 12 6 Thus the premium allowed for each barrel of herrings entered for home consumption is £ 1 3 9¾
If the herrings are cured in British salt, the account stands as follows: Bounty on each barrel brought in by the busses, as above £ 0 12 3¾ From this deduct 1s. per barrel, paid when they are entered for home consumption 0 1 0 £ 0 11 3¾
But add the duty on two bushels of Scotch salt at 1s.6d. per bushel, assumed to be the average quantity used in curing each barrel, namely 0 3 0 the premium for each barrel entered for home consumption is £ 1 14 3¾
Although the loss of duties on exported herrings cannot, perhaps, properly be called a bounty, the loss on herrings entered for home consumption certainly can.
An account of the quantity of foreign salt imported into Scotland, and of Scotch salt delivered duty-free from the works there for the fishery, from the 5th. of April 1771 to the 5th. of April 1782, with the yearly average of both.
Foreign Salt Scotch Salt delivered PERIOD imported from the Works Bushels Bushels
From 5th. April 1771 to 5th. April 1782 936,974 168,226 Average for one year 85,159½ 15,293¼
It should be noted that a bushel of foreign salt weighs 48lbs., while a bushel of British salt weighs only 56lbs.
Book V, Chapter I, 1
18th-century English
OF THE REVENUE OF THE SOVEREIGN OR COMMONWEALTH
OF THE EXPENSES OF THE SOVEREIGN OR COMMONWEALTH.
PART I. Of the Expense of Defence.
The first duty of the sovereign, that of protecting the society from the violence and invasion of other independent societies, can be performed only by means of a military force. But the expense both of preparing this military force in time of peace, and of employing it in time of war, is very different in the different states of society, in the different periods of improvement.
Among nations of hunters, the lowest and rudest state of society, such as we find it among the native tribes of North America, every man is a warrior, as well as a hunter. When he goes to war, either to defend his society, or to revenge the injuries which have been done to it by other societies, he maintains himself by his own labour, in the same manner as when he lives at home. His society (for in this state of things there is properly neither sovereign nor commonwealth) is at no sort of expense, either to prepare him for the field, or to maintain him while he is in it.
Among nations of shepherds, a more advanced state of society, such as we find it among the Tartars and Arabs, every man is, in the same manner, a warrior. Such nations have commonly no fixed habitation, but live either in tents, or in a sort of covered waggons, which are easily transported from place to place. The whole tribe, or nation, changes its situation according to the different seasons of the year, as well as according to other accidents. When its herds and flocks have consumed the forage of one part of the country, it removes to another, and from that to a third. In the dry season, it comes down to the banks of the rivers; in the wet season, it retires to the upper country. When such a nation goes to war, the warriors will not trust their herds and flocks to the feeble defence of their old men, their women and children; and their old men, their women and children, will not be left behind without defence, and without subsistence. The whole nation, besides, being accustomed to a wandering life, even in time of peace, easily takes the field in time of war. Whether it marches as an army, or moves about as a company of herdsmen, the way of life is nearly the same, though the object proposed by it be very different. They all go to war together, therefore, and everyone does as well as he can. Among the Tartars, even the women have been frequently known to engage in battle. If they conquer, whatever belongs to the hostile tribe is the recompence of the victory; but if they are vanquished, all is lost; and not only their herds and flocks, but their women and children become the booty of the conqueror. Even the greater part of those who survive the action are obliged to submit to him for the sake of immediate subsistence. The rest are commonly dissipated and dispersed in the desert.
The ordinary life, the ordinary exercise of a Tartar or Arab, prepares him sufficiently for war. Running, wrestling, cudgel-playing, throwing the javelin, drawing the bow, etc. are the common pastimes of those who live in the open air, and are all of them the images of war. When a Tartar or Arab actually goes to war, he is maintained by his own herds and flocks, which he carries with him, in the same manner as in peace. His chief or sovereign (for those nations have all chiefs or sovereigns) is at no sort of expense in preparing him for the field; and when he is in it, the chance of plunder is the only pay which he either expects or requires.
An army of hunters can seldom exceed two or three hundred men. The precarious subsistence which the chace affords, could seldom allow a greater number to keep together for any considerable time. An army of shepherds, on the contrary, may sometimes amount to two or three hundred thousand. As long as nothing stops their progress, as long as they can go on from one district, of which they have consumed the forage, to another, which is yet entire; there seems to be scarce any limit to the number who can march on together. A nation of hunters can never be formidable to the civilized nations in their neighbourhood; a nation of shepherds may. Nothing can be more contemptible than an Indian war in North America; nothing, on the contrary, can be more dreadful than a Tartar invasion has frequently been in Asia. The judgment of Thucydides, that both Europe and Asia could not resist the Scythians united, has been verified by the experience of all ages. The inhabitants of the extensive, but defenceless plains of Scythia or Tartary, have been frequently united under the dominion of the chief of some conquering horde or clan; and the havock and devastation of Asia have always signalized their union. The inhabitants of the inhospitable deserts of Arabia, the other great nation of shepherds, have never been united but once, under Mahomet and his immediate successors. Their union, which was more the effect of religious enthusiasm than of conquest, was signalized in the same manner. If the hunting nations of America should ever become shepherds, their neighbourhood would be much more dangerous to the European colonies than it is at present.
In a yet more advanced state of society, among those nations of husbandmen who have little foreign commerce, and no other manufactures but those coarse and household ones, which almost every private family prepares for its own use, every man, in the same manner, either is a warrior, or easily becomes such. Those who live by agriculture generally pass the whole day in the open air, exposed to all the inclemencies of the seasons. The hardiness of their ordinary life prepares them for the fatigues of war, to some of which their necessary occupations bear a great analogy. The necessary occupation of a ditcher prepares him to work in the trenches, and to fortify a camp, as well as to inclose a field. The ordinary pastimes of such husbandmen are the same as those of shepherds, and are in the same manner the images of war. But as husbandmen have less leisure than shepherds, they are not so frequently employed in those pastimes. They are soldiers but soldiers not quite so much masters of their exercise. Such as they are, however, it seldom costs the sovereign or commonwealth any expense to prepare them for the field.
Agriculture, even in its rudest and lowest state, supposes a settlement, some sort of fixed habitation, which cannot be abandoned without great loss. When a nation of mere husbandmen, therefore, goes to war, the whole people cannot take the field together. The old men, the women and children, at least, must remain at home, to take care of the habitation. All the men of the military age, however, may take the field, and in small nations of this kind, have frequently done so. In every nation, the men of the military age are supposed to amount to about a fourth or a fifth part of the whole body of the people. If the campaign, too, should begin after seedtime, and end before harvest, both the husbandman and his principal labourers can be spared from the farm without much loss. He trusts that the work which must be done in the mean time, can be well enough executed by the old men, the women, and the children. He is not unwilling, therefore, to serve without pay during a short campaign; and it frequently costs the sovereign or commonwealth as little to maintain him in the field as to prepare him for it. The citizens of all the different states of ancient Greece seem to have served in this manner till after the second Persian war; and the people of Peloponnesus till after the Peloponnesian war. The Peloponnesians, Thucydides observes, generally left the field in the summer, and returned home to reap the harvest. The Roman people, under their kings, and during the first ages of the republic, served in the same manner. It was not till the seige of Veii, that they who staid at home began to contribute something towards maintaining those who went to war. In the European monarchies, which were founded upon the ruins of the Roman empire, both before, and for some time after, the establishment of what is properly called the feudal law, the great lords, with all their immediate dependents, used to serve the crown at their own expense. In the field, in the same manner as at home, they maintained themselves by their own revenue, and not by any stipend or pay which they received from the king upon that particular occasion.
In a more advanced state of society, two different causes contribute to render it altogether impossible that they who take the field should maintain themselves at their own expense. Those two causes are, the progress of manufactures, and the improvement in the art of war.
Though a husbandman should be employed in an expedition, provided it begins after seedtime, and ends before harvest, the interruption of his business will not always occasion any considerable diminution of his revenue. Without the intervention of his labour, Nature does herself the greater part of the work which remains to be done. But the moment that an artificer, a smith, a carpenter, or a weaver, for example, quits his workhouse, the sole source of his revenue is completely dried up. Nature does nothing for him; he does all for himself. When he takes the field, therefore, in defence of the public, as he has no revenue to maintain himself, he must necessarily be maintained by the public. But in a country, of which a great part of the inhabitants are artificers and manufacturers, a great part of the people who go to war must be drawn from those classes, and must, therefore, be maintained by the public as long as they are employed in its service.
When the art of war, too, has gradually grown up to be a very intricate and complicated science; when the event of war ceases to be determined, as in the first ages of society, by a single irregular skirmish or battle; but when the contest is generally spun out through several different campaigns, each of which lasts during the greater part of the year; it becomes universally necessary that the public should maintain those who serve the public in war, at least while they are employed in that service. Whatever, in time of peace, might be the ordinary occupation of those who go to war, so very tedious and expensive a service would otherwise be by far too heavy a burden upon them. After the second Persian war, accordingly, the armies of Athens seem to have been generally composed of mercenary troops, consisting, indeed, partly of citizens, but partly, too, of foreigners; and all of them equally hired and paid at the expense of the state. From the time of the siege of Veii, the armies of Rome received pay for their service during the time which they remained in the field. Under the feudal governments, the military service, both of the great lords, and of their immediate dependents, was, after a certain period, universally exchanged for a payment in money, which was employed to maintain those who served in their stead.
The number of those who can go to war, in proportion to the whole number of the people, is necessarily much smaller in a civilized than in a rude state of society. In a civilized society, as the soldiers are maintained altogether by the labour of those who are not soldiers, the number of the former can never exceed what the latter can maintain, over and above maintaining, in a manner suitable to their respective stations, both themselves and the other officers of government and law, whom they are obliged to maintain. In the little agrarian states of ancient Greece, a fourth or a fifth part of the whole body of the people considered the themselves as soldiers, and would sometimes, it is said, take the field. Among the civilized nations of modern Europe, it is commonly computed, that not more than the one hundredth part of the inhabitants of any country can be employed as soldiers, without ruin to the country which pays the expense of their service.
The expense of preparing the army for the field seems not to have become considerable in any nation, till long after that of maintaining it in the field had devolved entirely upon the sovereign or commonwealth. In all the different republics of ancient Greece, to learn his military exercises, was a necessary part of education imposed by the state upon every free citizen. In every city there seems to have been a public field, in which, under the protection of the public magistrate, the young people were taught their different exercises by different masters. In this very simple institution consisted the whole expense which any Grecian state seems ever to have been at, in preparing its citizens for war. In ancient Rome, the exercises of the Campus Martius answered the same purpose with those of the Gymnasium in ancient Greece. Under the feudal governments, the many public ordinances, that the citizens of every district should practise archery, as well as several other military exercises, were intended for promoting the same purpose, but do not seem to have promoted it so well. Either from want of interest in the officers entrusted with the execution of those ordinances, or from some other cause, they appear to have been universally neglected; and in the progress of all those governments, military exercises seem to have gone gradually into disuse among the great body of the people.
In the republics of ancient Greece and Rome, during the whole period of their existence, and under the feudal governments, for a considerable time after their first establishment, the trade of a soldier was not a separate, distinct trade, which constituted the sole or principal occupation of a particular class of citizens; every subject of the state, whatever might be the ordinary trade or occupation by which he gained his livelihood, considered himself, upon all ordinary occasions, as fit likewise to exercise the trade of a soldier, and, upon many extraordinary occasions, as bound to exercise it.
The art of war, however, as it is certainly the noblest of all arts, so, in the progress of improvement, it necessarily becomes one of the most complicated among them. The state of the mechanical, as well as some other arts, with which it is necessarily connected, determines the degree of perfection to which it is capable of being carried at any particular time. But in order to carry it to this degree of perfection, it is necessary that it should become the sole or principal occupation of a particular class of citizens; and the division of labour is as necessary for the improvement of this, as of every other art. Into other arts, the division of labour is naturally introduced by the prudence of individuals, who find that they promote their private interest better by confining themselves to a particular trade, than by exercising a great number. But it is the wisdom of the state only, which can render the trade of a soldier a particular trade, separate and distinct from all others. A private citizen, who, in time of profound peace, and without any particular encouragement from the public, should spend the greater part of his time in military exercises, might, no doubt, both improve himself very much in them, and amuse himself very well; but he certainly would not promote his own interest. It is the wisdom of the state only, which can render it for his interest to give up the greater part of his time to this peculiar occupation; and states have not always had this wisdom, even when their circumstances had become such, that the preservation of their existence required that they should have it.
English
OF THE REVENUE OF THE SOVEREIGN OR COMMONWEALTH
OF THE EXPENSES OF THE SOVEREIGN OR COMMONWEALTH
PART I. Of the Expense of Defense.
The sovereign's first duty, protecting society against violence and invasion by other independent societies, can be fulfilled only through military force. But the expense of preparing that force in peacetime and deploying it in war differs greatly with the state of society and its stage of development.
Among hunting peoples, society's earliest and least developed state, as among the native tribes of North America, every man is a warrior as well as a hunter. When he goes to war, whether to defend his society or to avenge injuries done to it by others, he sustains himself by his own labor, just as he does at home. His society—for in this condition there is, properly speaking, neither sovereign nor commonwealth—incurs no expense either to prepare him for battle or to sustain him in it.
Among pastoral peoples, a more advanced state of society, as among the Tartars and Arabs, every man is likewise a warrior. Such peoples generally have no fixed homes, but live in tents or covered wagons that can readily be moved from place to place. The entire tribe or nation changes its location with the seasons and as other circumstances require. Once its herds and flocks have consumed the forage in one area, it moves to another and then a third. In the dry season it descends to the riverbanks; in the wet season it withdraws to higher ground. When such a people goes to war, the warriors will not entrust their herds and flocks to the frail defense of their old men, women, and children; nor can those left behind survive without defense or sustenance. Besides, the whole nation is accustomed to wandering even in peace and can readily take the field in war. Whether it marches as an army or moves as a company of herdsmen, its way of life is much the same, though its purpose is very different. They therefore all go to war together, and each does what he can. Even Tartar women have frequently been known to fight. Victory brings everything belonging to the hostile tribe as its reward; defeat costs them everything: not merely their herds and flocks, but their women and children become the conqueror's spoils. Even most who survive the battle must submit to him in order to survive at once. The others are usually scattered and dispersed across the desert.
The ordinary life and exercise of a Tartar or Arab prepares him well enough for war. Running, wrestling, fighting with cudgels, throwing the javelin, drawing the bow, and the like are ordinary pastimes of those who live outdoors, and each resembles warfare. When a Tartar or Arab actually goes to war, he lives from his own herds and flocks, which he takes with him as in peacetime. His chief or sovereign—for all these peoples have chiefs or sovereigns—incurs no expense in preparing him for battle; once there, the prospect of plunder is the only pay he expects or needs.
An army of hunters can seldom number more than two or three hundred men. The uncertain sustenance afforded by the chase can rarely keep a larger number together for any length of time. An army of herdsmen, by contrast, can sometimes reach two or three hundred thousand. Provided nothing checks their advance, and they can move from one district whose forage they have consumed to another whose forage remains untouched, there seems scarcely any limit to the numbers who can march together. A hunting people can never pose a serious threat to the civilized nations nearby; a pastoral people can. Nothing can be less imposing than an Indian war in North America; nothing more terrible than the Tartar invasions so often seen in Asia. Thucydides' judgment that Europe and Asia together could not withstand the united Scythians has been confirmed by the experience of every age. The inhabitants of the vast but defenseless plains of Scythia or Tartary have often been united under the chief of a conquering horde or clan, and the ruin and devastation of Asia have always marked their union. The inhabitants of Arabia's inhospitable deserts, the other great pastoral nation, have been united only once, under Mahomet and his immediate successors. Their union, brought about more by religious enthusiasm than by conquest, was marked in the same way. If America's hunting peoples ever become herdsmen, their proximity will be far more dangerous to the European colonies than it is now.
At a still more advanced stage of society, among farming peoples with little foreign commerce and no manufactures beyond the coarse household goods nearly every family makes for itself, each man likewise either is a warrior or can readily become one. Those who live by agriculture generally spend their days outdoors, exposed to all the hardships of the seasons. The hardiness of their everyday lives prepares them for the rigors of war, some of which closely resemble their necessary work. Ditching prepares a man to dig trenches and fortify a camp as well as to enclose a field. Such farmers' ordinary pastimes are the same as those of herdsmen, and likewise resemble warfare. But farmers have less leisure than herdsmen and practice these pastimes less often. They are soldiers, but less practiced soldiers. Even so, it seldom costs the sovereign or commonwealth anything to prepare them for battle.
Even in its earliest and simplest form, agriculture presupposes a settlement, some fixed dwelling that cannot be abandoned without great loss. When a nation composed solely of farmers goes to war, therefore, the whole population cannot take the field together. At least the old men, women, and children must remain at home to care for their dwellings. All the men of military age, however, can go, and in small nations of this kind they often have. Men of military age are supposed to make up about a fourth or a fifth of the whole population in every nation. Moreover, if a campaign begins after seedtime and ends before harvest, both a farmer and his principal laborers can leave the farm without great loss. He trusts that the work needed in the meantime can be done adequately by the old men, women, and children. He is therefore willing to serve without pay during a short campaign; and it often costs the sovereign or commonwealth as little to sustain him in battle as to prepare him for it. The citizens of the various states of ancient Greece seem to have served in this way until after the second Persian war, and the people of Peloponnesus until after the Peloponnesian war. Thucydides observes that the Peloponnesians generally left the field in summer and went home to reap the harvest. The Romans served likewise under their kings and in the early republic. Not until the siege of Veii did those who stayed at home begin contributing to the support of those who went to war. In the European monarchies founded on the ruins of the Roman empire, both before and for a time after the establishment of what is properly called feudal law, the great lords and all their immediate dependents served the crown at their own expense. They supported themselves in the field, just as at home, from their own revenue, not from any stipend or pay granted by the king for the occasion.
In a more advanced society, two causes make it altogether impossible for those who take the field to support themselves at their own expense: the progress of manufactures and the development of the art of war.
If a farmer joins an expedition that begins after seedtime and ends before harvest, interrupting his business will not always appreciably reduce his revenue. Without his labor, Nature herself does most of the work that remains. But the moment an artisan—a smith, carpenter, or weaver, for example—leaves his workshop, his only source of revenue dries up completely. Nature does nothing for him; he does everything for himself. When he goes to war to defend the public, therefore, he has no revenue with which to sustain himself and must be supported by the public. In a country where many inhabitants are artisans and manufacturers, many of those who go to war must come from those classes and so must be supported by the public throughout their service.
When the art of war has gradually become an intricate and complex science, and the outcome of a war is no longer settled, as it was in society's earliest ages, by a single irregular skirmish or battle, but the struggle generally extends over several campaigns, each lasting most of the year, it becomes necessary everywhere for the public to support those who serve it in war, at least while they are in service. Whatever their ordinary occupations in peace, a service so long and costly would otherwise place far too heavy a burden on them. Accordingly, after the second Persian war, the armies of Athens seem generally to have consisted of paid troops, partly citizens and partly foreigners, all alike hired and paid at state expense. From the siege of Veii onward, Roman armies received pay for the time they spent in the field. Under feudal governments, after a certain period, the military service of both great lords and their immediate dependents was everywhere replaced by a payment in money used to maintain those who served in their place.
The share of the population able to go to war is necessarily much smaller in a civilized society than in a less developed one. In civilized society soldiers live entirely on the labor of nonsoldiers; their number can never exceed what those others can support after providing, in a manner befitting their respective stations, for themselves and for the other officers of government and law whom they must also support. In the small farming states of ancient Greece, a fourth or a fifth of the whole population considered themselves soldiers and, it is said, would sometimes take the field. In the civilized nations of modern Europe, the usual estimate is that no more than one hundredth of a country's inhabitants can be employed as soldiers without ruining the country that pays for their service.
The expense of preparing an army for battle appears to have become considerable only long after the sovereign or commonwealth had assumed the entire expense of maintaining it in the field. In every ancient Greek republic, learning military exercises was a necessary part of the education the state required of every free citizen. Each city seems to have had a public field where young people learned their different exercises from different instructors under the protection of the public magistrate. This simple institution seems to have been the entire expense any Greek state incurred to prepare its citizens for war. In ancient Rome the exercises of the Campus Martius served the same purpose as those of the Gymnasium in ancient Greece. Under feudal governments, numerous public ordinances requiring the inhabitants of each district to practice archery and other military exercises were meant to serve the same end, but do not seem to have done so as well. Whether the officials charged with enforcing these ordinances lacked an interest in doing so, or for some other reason, the ordinances appear to have been universally neglected. As those governments developed, military exercises seem gradually to have fallen out of use among the population at large.
Throughout their existence, in the republics of ancient Greece and Rome, and for a considerable time after the establishment of feudal governments, soldiering was not a distinct profession, the sole or principal occupation of a particular class of citizens. Every subject of the state, whatever his ordinary livelihood, considered himself fit to serve as a soldier on ordinary occasions and bound to do so on many extraordinary ones.
The art of war, though certainly the noblest of all arts, necessarily becomes one of the most complex as civilization advances. Its attainable perfection at any given time depends on the condition of mechanical and certain other arts to which it is necessarily connected. But to attain that perfection, it must become the sole or principal occupation of a particular class of citizens; the division of labor is as necessary to improve this art as any other. In other arts, the division of labor arises naturally from the prudence of individuals, who find it more to their private advantage to confine themselves to a single trade than to practice many. Only the wisdom of the state, however, can make soldiering a profession separate from all others. A private citizen who spent most of his time practicing military exercises during profound peace, without any particular public encouragement, might undoubtedly improve greatly at them and enjoy himself too; but he would certainly not advance his own interest. Only the wisdom of the state can make it advantageous for him to devote most of his time to this peculiar occupation; and states have not always shown that wisdom, even when circumstances made it necessary for their very survival.
Book V, Chapter I, 2
18th-century English
A shepherd has a great deal of leisure; a husbandman, in the rude state of husbandry, has some; an artificer or manufacturer has none at all. The first may, without any loss, employ a great deal of his time in martial exercises; the second may employ some part of it; but the last cannot employ a single hour in them without some loss, and his attention to his own interest naturally leads him to neglect them altogether. Those improvements in husbandry, too, which the progress of arts and manufactures necessarily introduces, leave the husbandman as little leisure as the artificer. Military exercises come to be as much neglected by the inhabitants of the country as by those of the town, and the great body of the people becomes altogether unwarlike. That wealth, at the same time, which always follows the improvements of agriculture and manufactures, and which, in reality, is no more than the accumulated produce of those improvements, provokes the invasion of all their neighbours. An industrious, and, upon that account, a wealthy nation, is of all nations the most likely to be attacked; and unless the state takes some new measure for the public defence, the natural habits of the people render them altogether incapable of defending themselves.
In these circumstances, there seem to be but two methods by which the state can make any tolerable provision for the public defence.
It may either, first, by means of a very rigorous police, and in spite of the whole bent of the interest, genius, and inclinations of the people, enforce the practice of military exercises, and oblige either all the citizens of the military age, or a certain number of them, to join in some measure the trade of a soldier to whatever other trade or profession they may happen to carry on.
Or, secondly, by maintaining and employing a certain number of citizens in the constant practice of military exercises, it may render the trade of a soldier a particular trade, separate and distinct from all others.
If the state has recourse to the first of those two expedients, its military force is said to consist in a militia; if to the second, it is said to consist in a standing army. The practice of military exercises is the sole or principal occupation of the soldiers of a standing army, and the maintenance or pay which the state affords them is the principal and ordinary fund of their subsistence. The practice of military exercises is only the occasional occupation of the soldiers of a militia, and they derive the principal and ordinary fund of their subsistence from some other occupation. In a militia, the character of the labourer, artificer, or tradesman, predominates over that of the soldier; in a standing army, that of the soldier predominates over every other character; and in this distinction seems to consist the essential difference between those two different species of military force.
Militias have been of several different kinds. In some countries, the citizens destined for defending the state seem to have been exercised only, without being, if I may say so, regimented; that is, without being divided into separate and distinct bodies of troops, each of which performed its exercises under its own proper and permanent officers. In the republics of ancient Greece and Rome, each citizen, as long as he remained at home, seems to have practised his exercises, either separately and independently, or with such of his equals as he liked best; and not to have been attached to any particular body of troops, till he was actually called upon to take the field. In other countries, the militia has not only been exercised, but regimented. In England, in Switzerland, and, I believe, in every other country of modern Europe, where any imperfect military force of this kind has been established, every militiaman is, even in time of peace, attached to a particular body of troops, which performs its exercises under its own proper and permanent officers.
Before the invention of fire-arms, that army was superior in which the soldiers had, each individually, the greatest skill and dexterity in the use of their arms. Strength and agility of body were of the highest consequence, and commonly determined the fate of battles. But this skill and dexterity in the use of their arms could be acquired only, in the same manner as fencing is at present, by practising, not in great bodies, but each man separately, in a particular school, under a particular master, or with his own particular equals and companions. Since the invention of fire-arms, strength and agility of body, or even extraordinary dexterity and skill in the use of arms, though they are far from being of no consequence, are, however, of less consequence. The nature of the weapon, though it by no means puts the awkward upon a level with the skilful, puts him more nearly so than he ever was before. All the dexterity and skill, it is supposed, which are necessary for using it, can be well enough acquired by practising in great bodies.
Regularity, order, and prompt obedience to command, are qualities which, in modern armies, are of more importance towards determining the fate of battles, than the dexterity and skill of the soldiers in the use of their arms. But the noise of fire-arms, the smoke, and the invisible death to which every man feels himself every moment exposed, as soon as he comes within cannon-shot, and frequently a long time before the battle can be well said to be engaged, must render it very difficult to maintain any considerable degree of this regularity, order, and prompt obedience, even in the beginning of a modern battle. In an ancient battle, there was no noise but what arose from the human voice; there was no smoke, there was no invisible cause of wounds or death. Every man, till some mortal weapon actually did approach him, saw clearly that no such weapon was near him. In these circumstances, and among troops who had some confidence in their own skill and dexterity in the use of their arms, it must have been a good deal less difficult to preserve some degree of regularity and order, not only in the beginning, but through the whole progress of an ancient battle, and till one of the two armies was fairly defeated. But the habits of regularity, order, and prompt obedience to command, can be acquired only by troops which are exercised in great bodies.
A militia, however, in whatever manner it may be either disciplined or exercised, must always be much inferior to a well disciplined and well exercised standing army.
The soldiers who are exercised only once a week, or once a-month, can never be so expert in the use of their arms, as those who are exercised every day, or every other day; and though this circumstance may not be of so much consequence in modern, as it was in ancient times, yet the acknowledged superiority of the Prussian troops, owing, it is said, very much to their superior expertness in their exercise, may satisfy us that it is, even at this day, of very considerable consequence.
The soldiers, who are bound to obey their officer only once a-week, or once a-month, and who are at all other times at liberty to manage their own affairs their own way, without being, in any respect, accountable to him, can never be under the same awe in his presence, can never have the same disposition to ready obedience, with those whose whole life and conduct are every day directed by him, and who every day even rise and go to bed, or at least retire to their quarters, according to his orders. In what is called discipline, or in the habit of ready obedience, a militia must always be still more inferior to a standing army, than it may sometimes be in what is called the manual exercise, or in the management and use of its arms. But, in modern war, the habit of ready and instant obedience is of much greater consequence than a considerable superiority in the management of arms.
Those militias which, like the Tartar or Arab militia, go to war under the same chieftains whom they are accustomed to obey in peace, are by far the best. In respect for their officers, in the habit of ready obedience, they approach nearest to standing armies. The Highland militia, when it served under its own chieftains, had some advantage of the same kind. As the Highlanders, however, were not wandering, but stationary shepherds, as they had all a fixed habitation, and were not, in peaceable times, accustomed to follow their chieftain from place to place; so, in time of war, they were less willing to follow him to any considerable distance, or to continue for any long time in the field. When they had acquired any booty, they were eager to return home, and his authority was seldom sufficient to detain them. In point of obedience, they were always much inferior to what is reported of the Tartars and Arabs. As the Highlanders, too, from their stationary life, spend less of their time in the open air, they were always less accustomed to military exercises, and were less expert in the use of their arms than the Tartars and Arabs are said to be.
A militia of any kind, it must be observed, however, which has served for several successive campaigns in the field, becomes in every respect a standing army. The soldiers are every day exercised in the use of their arms, and, being constantly under the command of their officers, are habituated to the same prompt obedience which takes place in standing armies. What they were before they took the field, is of little importance. They necessarily become in every respect a standing army, after they have passed a few campaigns in it. Should the war in America drag out through another campaign, the American militia may become, in every respect, a match for that standing army, of which the valour appeared, in the last war at least, not inferior to that of the hardiest veterans of France and Spain.
This distinction being well understood, the history of all ages, it will be found, hears testimony to the irresistible superiority which a well regulated standing army has over a militia.
One of the first standing armies, of which we have any distinct account in any well authenticated history, is that of Philip of Macedon. His frequent wars with the Thracians, Illyrians, Thessalians, and some of the Greek cities in the neighbourhood of Macedon, gradually formed his troops, which in the beginning were probably militia, to the exact discipline of a standing army. When he was at peace, which he was very seldom, and never for any long time together, he was careful not to disband that army. It vanquished and subdued, after a long and violent struggle, indeed, the gallant and well exercised militias of the principal republics of ancient Greece; and afterwards, with very little struggle, the effeminate and ill exercised militia of the great Persian empire. The fall of the Greek republics, and of the Persian empire was the effect of the irresistible superiority which a standing arm has over every other sort of militia. It is the first great revolution in the affairs of mankind of which history has preserved any distinct and circumstantial account.
The fall of Carthage, and the consequent elevation of Rome, is the second. All the varieties in the fortune of those two famous republics may very well be accounted for from the same cause.
From the end of the first to the beginning of the second Carthaginian war, the armies of Carthage were continually in the field, and employed under three great generals, who succeeded one another in the command; Amilcar, his son-in-law Asdrubal, and his son Annibal: first in chastising their own rebellious slaves, afterwards in subduing the revolted nations of Africa; and lastly, in conquering the great kingdom of Spain. The army which Annibal led from Spain into Italy must necessarily, in those different wars, have been gradually formed to the exact discipline of a standing army. The Romans, in the meantime, though they had not been altogether at peace, yet they had not, during this period, been engaged in any war of very great consequence; and their military discipline, it is generally said, was a good deal relaxed. The Roman armies which Annibal encountered at Trebi, Thrasymenus, and Cannae, were militia opposed to a standing army. This circumstance, it is probable, contributed more than any other to determine the fate of those battles.
The standing army which Annibal left behind him in Spain had the like superiority over the militia which the Romans sent to oppose it; and, in a few years, under the command of his brother, the younger Asdrubal, expelled them almost entirely from that country.
Annibal was ill supplied from home. The Roman militia, being continually in the field, became, in the progress of the war, a well disciplined and well exercised standing army; and the superiority of Annibal grew every day less and less. Asdrubal judged it necessary to lead the whole, or almost the whole, of the standing army which he commanded in Spain, to the assistance of his brother in Italy. In this march, he is said to have been misled by his guides; and in a country which he did not know, was surprised and attacked, by another standing army, in every respect equal or superior to his own, and was entirely defeated.
When Asdrubal had left Spain, the great Scipio found nothing to oppose him but a militia inferior to his own. He conquered and subdued that militia, and, in the course of the war, his own militia necessarily became a well disciplined and well exercised standing army. That standing army was afterwards carried to Africa, where it found nothing but a militia to oppose it. In order to defend Carthage, it became necessary to recal the standing army of Annibal. The disheartened and frequently defeated African militia joined it, and, at the battle of Zama, composed the greater part of the troops of Annibal. The event of that day determined the fate of the two rival republics.
From the end of the second Carthaginian war till the fall of the Roman republic, the armies of Rome were in every respect standing armies. The standing army of Macedon made some resistance to their arms. In the height of their grandeur, it cost them two great wars, and three great battles, to subdue that little kingdom, of which the conquest would probably have been still more difficult, had it not been for the cowardice of its last king. The militias of all the civilized nations of the ancient world, of Greece, of Syria, and of Egypt, made but a feeble resistance to the standing armies of Rome. The militias of some barbarous nations defended themselves much better. The Scythian or Tartar militia, which Mithridates drew from the countries north of the Euxine and Caspian seas, were the most formidable enemies whom the Romans had to encounter after the second Carthaginian war. The Parthian and German militias, too, were always respectable, and upon several occasions, gained very considerable advantages over the Roman armies. In general, however, and when the Roman armies were well commanded, they appear to have been very much superior; and if the Romans did not pursue the final conquest either of Parthia or Germany, it was probably because they judged that it was not worth while to add those two barbarous countries to an empire which was already too large. The ancient Parthians appear to have been a nation of Scythian or Tartar extraction, and to have always retained a good deal of the manners of their ancestors. The ancient Germans were, like the Scythians or Tartars, a nation of wandering shepherds, who went to war under the same chiefs whom they were accustomed to follow in peace. ‘Their militia was exactly of the same kind with that of the Scythians or Tartars, from whom, too, they were probably descended.’
English
A herdsman has abundant leisure; a farmer, when farming is still rudimentary, has some; an artisan or manufacturer has none at all. The first can spend a great deal of time on military exercises without loss, the second can spend some, but the last cannot spend a single hour on them without loss, and concern for his own interest naturally leads him to neglect them entirely. Improvements in agriculture brought about by the progress of the arts and manufactures likewise leave the farmer as little leisure as the artisan. Military exercises are neglected in the country no less than in the town, and the population at large becomes wholly unfit for war. Meanwhile, the wealth that always follows improvements in agriculture and manufactures—and is, in fact, simply their accumulated produce—invites invasion by all their neighbors. An industrious nation, and therefore a wealthy one, is more likely to be attacked than any other; unless the state makes some new provision for public defense, the people's natural habits leave them utterly unable to defend themselves.
In these circumstances, the state seems to have only two ways of making adequate provision for public defense.
First, through very strict regulation and against the whole tendency of the people's interests, abilities, and inclinations, it may require military exercise and oblige either all citizens of military age, or a certain number of them, to combine some degree of soldiering with whatever other trade or profession they pursue.
Or, second, by supporting and employing a certain number of citizens in constant military training, it may make soldiering a particular profession, separate and distinct from every other.
If the state adopts the first expedient, its military force is called a militia; if it adopts the second, it is called a standing army. Military exercises are the sole or principal occupation of soldiers in a standing army, and the maintenance or pay the state gives them is their principal and ordinary means of subsistence. For militia soldiers, military exercises are only an occasional occupation, and their principal and ordinary means of subsistence comes from other work. In a militia, the laborer, artisan, or merchant predominates over the soldier; in a standing army, the soldier predominates over every other character. Here seems to lie the essential distinction between these two kinds of military force.
Militias have taken several forms. In some countries, citizens chosen to defend the state appear to have been trained but not, so to speak, organized into regiments: they were not divided into separate bodies of troops, each exercising under its own permanent officers. In the ancient Greek and Roman republics, citizens while at home appear to have practiced their exercises separately or with companions of their own choosing; they were attached to a particular body of troops only when actually called into the field. In other countries militias were both trained and organized into regiments. In England, Switzerland, and, I believe, every other modern European country where such an imperfect military force has been established, each militiaman belongs even in peacetime to a particular unit, which exercises under its own permanent officers.
Before firearms were invented, the superior army was the one whose individual soldiers were most skillful and dexterous with their weapons. Physical strength and agility were of the highest importance and usually settled battles. Such skill and dexterity could be acquired, as in fencing today, only by training individually, not in large groups, at a particular school with a particular instructor or among one's own companions and equals. Since the invention of firearms, physical strength and agility, and even exceptional skill with weapons, though far from irrelevant, matter less. The weapon does not make a clumsy man the equal of a skilled one, but it brings them closer than ever before. The skill needed to use it, it is believed, can be acquired well enough through training in large groups.
Regularity, order, and prompt obedience to commands matter more in deciding modern battles than the soldiers' dexterity with their weapons. Yet the noise of firearms, the smoke, and the unseen death to which everyone feels exposed at every moment once within cannon range—often long before the battle can properly be said to have begun—must make any substantial degree of regularity, order, and prompt obedience very hard to maintain, even at the beginning of a modern battle. In an ancient battle there was no noise except human voices, no smoke, no invisible cause of wounds or death. Until a deadly weapon actually approached him, each man could see clearly that none was near. In these circumstances, among troops who had some confidence in their own skill with weapons, maintaining a measure of regularity and order must have been much easier, not just at the outset of an ancient battle but throughout its course until one army was clearly defeated. Yet the habits of regularity, order, and prompt obedience to commands can be acquired only by troops trained in large bodies.
A militia, however, no matter how it is disciplined or trained, must always be much inferior to a well-disciplined and well-trained standing army.
Soldiers who train only once a week or once a month can never be as proficient with their weapons as those who train every day or every other day. Though this may matter less now than it did in ancient times, the acknowledged superiority of Prussian troops, attributed largely to their superior proficiency in drill, should convince us that it matters a great deal even today.
Soldiers required to obey an officer only once a week or once a month, and free at every other time to conduct their affairs as they please without being accountable to him, can never feel the same awe in his presence or the same readiness to obey as soldiers whose entire lives and conduct he directs daily, and who even rise and go to bed—or at least retire to their quarters—at his command. In discipline, or the habit of ready obedience, a militia must always fall even further short of a standing army than it sometimes does in manual drill or the handling of weapons. Yet in modern war the habit of ready and instant obedience matters far more than considerable superiority in handling weapons.
Militias that go to war under the same chiefs whom they habitually obey in peace, like the Tartar or Arab militia, are far the best. In respect for their officers and readiness to obey, they come nearest to standing armies. The Highland militia, when it served under its own chiefs, enjoyed something of the same advantage. But the Highlanders were settled rather than wandering herdsmen: they had fixed homes and were not accustomed in peacetime to follow a chief from place to place. In war they were consequently less willing to follow him any great distance or to remain in the field for long. Having acquired booty, they were eager to go home, and his authority was rarely sufficient to keep them. In obedience they were always far inferior to the Tartars and Arabs as these are described. Moreover, their settled way of life meant the Highlanders spent less time outdoors and were always less accustomed to military exercise and less proficient with their weapons than the Tartars and Arabs are said to be.
It must be observed, however, that a militia of any kind which serves several successive campaigns in the field becomes, in every respect, a standing army. Its soldiers practice with their weapons every day and, remaining constantly under the command of their officers, develop the same prompt obedience found in standing armies. What they were before they went into the field matters little. After a few campaigns there, they necessarily become a standing army in every respect. Should the war in America continue through another campaign, the American militia may become a match in every respect for that standing army whose courage, at least in the last war, appeared no less than that of the hardiest veterans of France and Spain.
Once this distinction is understood, the history of every age, it will be found, bears witness to the irresistible superiority of a well-regulated standing army over a militia.
One of the first standing armies clearly recorded in well-attested history is that of Philip of Macedon. His frequent wars with the Thracians, Illyrians, Thessalians, and certain Greek cities near Macedon gradually brought his troops, probably a militia at first, under the exact discipline of a standing army. In the rare and brief intervals of peace, he took care not to disband it. After a long and fierce struggle it vanquished and subdued the brave and well-trained militias of the leading republics of ancient Greece; then, with little struggle, the weakened and poorly trained militia of the great Persian empire. The fall of the Greek republics and of the Persian empire resulted from the irresistible superiority of a standing army over any militia. This is the first great revolution in human affairs of which history has preserved a clear and detailed account.
The fall of Carthage and consequent rise of Rome is the second. All the turns of fortune of those two famous republics may be explained by the same cause.
From the end of the first Carthaginian war to the beginning of the second, Carthage's armies were continually in the field, serving under three great generals in succession: Amilcar, his son-in-law Asdrubal, and his son Annibal. They first suppressed their own rebellious slaves, then subdued the rebellious peoples of Africa, and finally conquered the great kingdom of Spain. Through these successive wars, the army Annibal led from Spain into Italy must gradually have acquired the exact discipline of a standing army. The Romans, meanwhile, though not entirely at peace, had fought no war of great importance during this period, and their military discipline is generally said to have slackened considerably. The Roman armies Annibal met at Trebi, Thrasymenus, and Cannae were militias facing a standing army. This probably did more than anything else to determine the outcome of those battles.
The standing army Annibal left behind in Spain held the same advantage over the militia the Romans sent against it; in a few years, under his brother, the younger Asdrubal, it drove them almost entirely from that country.
Annibal received inadequate supplies from home. Through constant service in the field, the Roman militia became, as the war went on, a well-disciplined and well-trained standing army; Annibal's advantage diminished every day. Asdrubal judged it necessary to lead all, or nearly all, the standing army under his command in Spain to help his brother in Italy. During that march, his guides are said to have misled him; in unfamiliar country he was surprised and attacked by another standing army, in every respect equal or superior to his own, and was completely defeated.
After Asdrubal left Spain, the great Scipio found only a militia inferior to his own facing him. He conquered and subdued it, and in the course of the war his own militia necessarily became a well-disciplined and well-trained standing army. That standing army was later taken to Africa, where again only a militia opposed it. To defend Carthage, the standing army under Annibal had to be recalled. The disheartened African militia, repeatedly defeated, joined it and made up the greater part of Annibal's troops at the battle of Zama. That day's outcome determined the fate of the two rival republics.
From the end of the second Carthaginian war to the fall of the Roman republic, Rome's armies were standing armies in every respect. Macedon's standing army offered some resistance. Even at the height of Rome's power, subduing that small kingdom took two great wars and three great battles, and would probably have proved still harder but for the cowardice of its last king. The militias of all the civilized nations of the ancient world—Greece, Syria, and Egypt—offered only feeble resistance to Rome's standing armies. Some less civilized nations' militias defended themselves much better. The Scythian or Tartar militia that Mithridates drew from the countries north of the Euxine and Caspian seas were the most formidable enemies the Romans faced after the second Carthaginian war. The Parthian and German militias, too, were always formidable and on several occasions gained considerable advantages over Roman armies. Generally, however, when the Roman armies were well commanded, they appear to have been far superior; if Rome never completed the conquest of Parthia or Germany, it was probably because the Romans thought those two less civilized countries were not worth adding to an empire already too large. The ancient Parthians appear to have descended from Scythians or Tartars and to have retained much of their ancestors' customs. The ancient Germans, like the Scythians or Tartars, were wandering herdsmen who went to war under the same chiefs they followed in peace. “Their militia was of exactly the same kind as that of the Scythians or Tartars, from whom they too were probably descended.”
Book V, Chapter I, 3
18th-century English
Many different causes contributed to relax the discipline of the Roman armies. Its extreme severity was, perhaps, one of those causes. In the days of their grandeur, when no enemy appeared capable of opposing them, their heavy armour was laid aside as unnecessarily burdensome, their laborious exercises were neglected, as unnecessarily toilsome. Under the Roman emperors, besides, the standing armies of Rome, those particularly which guarded the German and Pannonian frontiers, became dangerous to their masters, against whom they used frequently to set up their own generals. In order to render them less formidable, according to some authors, Dioclesian, according to others, Constantine, first withdrew them from the frontier, where they had always before been encamped in great bodies, generally of two or three legions each, and dispersed them in small bodies through the different provincial towns, from whence they were scarce ever removed, but when it became necessary to repel an invasion. Small bodies of soldiers, quartered in trading and manufacturing towns, and seldom removed from those quarters, became themselves trades men, artificers, and manufacturers. The civil came to predominate over the military character; and the standing armies of Rome gradually degenerated into a corrupt, neglected, and undisciplined militia, incapable of resisting the attack of the German and Scythian militias, which soon afterwards invaded the western empire. It was only by hiring the militia of some of those nations to oppose to that of others, that the emperors were for some time able to defend themselves. The fall of the western empire is the third great revolution in the affairs of mankind, of which ancient history has preserved any distinct or circumstantial account. It was brought about by the irresistible superiority which the militia of a barbarous has over that of a civilized nation; which the militia of a nation of shepherds has over that of a nation of husbandmen, artificers, and manufacturers. The victories which have been gained by militias have generally been, not over standing armies, but over other militias, in exercise and discipline inferior to themselves. Such were the victories which the Greek militia gained over that of the Persian empire; and such, too, were those which, in later times, the Swiss militia gained over that of the Austrians and Burgundians.
The military force of the German and Scythian nations, who established themselves upon ruins of the western empire, continued for some time to be of the same kind in their new settlements, as it had been in their original country. It was a militia of shepherds and husbandmen, which, in time of war, took the field under the command of the same chieftains whom it was accustomed to obey in peace. It was, therefore, tolerably well exercised, and tolerably well disciplined. As arts and industry advanced, however, the authority of the chieftains gradually decayed, and the great body of the people had less time to spare for military exercises. Both the discipline and the exercise of the feudal militia, therefore, went gradually to ruin, and standing armies were gradually introduced to supply the place of it. When the expedient of a standing army, besides, had once been adopted by one civilized nation, it became necessary that all its neighbours should follow the example. They soon found that their safety depended upon their doing so, and that their own militia was altogether incapable of resisting the attack of such an army.
The soldiers of a standing army, though they may never have seen an enemy, yet have frequently appeared to possess all the courage of veteran troops, and, the very moment that they took the field, to have been fit to face the hardiest and most experienced veterans. In 1756, when the Russian army marched into Poland, the valour of the Russian soldiers did not appear inferior to that of the Prussians, at that time supposed to be the hardiest and most experienced veterans in Europe. The Russian empire, however, had enjoyed a profound peace for near twenty years before, and could at that time have very few soldiers who had ever seen an enemy. When the Spanish war broke out in 1739, England had enjoyed a profound peace for about eight-and-twenty years. The valour of her soldiers, however, far from being corrupted by that long peace, was never more distinguished than in the attempt upon Carthagena, the first unfortunate exploit of that unfortunate war. In a long peace, the generals, perhaps, may sometimes forget their skill; but where a well regulated standing army has been kept up, the soldiers seem never to forget their valour.
When a civilized nation depends for its defence upon a militia, it is at all times exposed to be conquered by any barbarous nation which happens to be in its neighbourhood. The frequent conquests of all the civilized countries in Asia by the Tartars, sufficiently demonstrates the natural superiority which the militia of a barbarous has over that of a civilized nation. A well regulated standing army is superior to every militia. Such an army, as it can best be maintained by an opulent and civilized nation, so it can alone defend such a nation against the invasion of a poor and barbarous neighbour. It is only by means of a standing army, therefore, that the civilization of any country can be perpetuated, or even preserved, for any considerable time.
As it is only by means of a well regulated standing army, that a civilized country can be defended, so it is only by means of it that a barbarous country can be suddenly and tolerably civilized. A standing army establishes, with an irresistible force, the law of the sovereign through the remotest provinces of the empire, and maintains some degree of regular government in countries which could not otherwise admit of any. Whoever examines with attention, the improvements which Peter the Great introduced into the Russian empire, will find that they almost all resolve themselves into the establishment of a well regulated standing army. It is the instrument which executes and maintains all his other regulations. That degree of order and internal peace, which that empire has ever since enjoyed, is altogether owing to the influence of that army.
Men of republican principles have been jealous of a standing army, as dangerous to liberty. It certainly is so, wherever the interest of the general, and that of the principal officers, are not necessarily connected with the support of the constitution of the state. The standing army of Caesar destroyed the Roman republic. The standing army of Cromwell turned the long parliament out of doors. But where the sovereign is himself the general, and the principal nobility and gentry of the country the chief officers of the army; where the military force is placed under the command of those who have the greatest interest in the support of the civil authority, because they have themselves the greatest share of that authority, a standing army can never be dangerous to liberty. On the contrary, it may, in some cases, be favourable to liberty. The security which it gives to the sovereign renders unnecessary that troublesome jealousy, which, in some modern republics, seems to watch over the minutest actions, and to be at all times ready to disturb the peace of every citizen. Where the security of the magistrate, though supported by the principal people of the country, is endangered by every popular discontent; where a small tumult is capable of bringing about in a few hours a great revolution, the whole authority of government must be employed to suppress and punish every murmur and complaint against it. To a sovereign, on the contrary, who feels himself supported, not only by the natural aristocracy of the country, but by a well regulated standing army, the rudest, the most groundless, and the most licentious remonstrances, can give little disturbance. He can safely pardon or neglect them, and his consciousness of his own superiority naturally disposes him to do so. That degree of liberty which approaches to licentiousness, can be tolerated only in countries where the sovereign is secured by a well regulated standing army. It is in such countries only, that the public safety does not require that the sovereign should be trusted with any discretionary power, for suppressing even the impertinent wantonness of this licentious liberty.
The first duty of the sovereign, therefore, that of defending the society from the violence and injustice of other independent societies, grows gradually more and more expensive, as the society advances in civilization. The military force of the society, which originally cost the sovereign no expense, either in time of peace, or in time of war, must, in the progress of improvement, first be maintained by him in time of war, and afterwards even in time of peace.
The great change introduced into the art of war by the invention of fire-arms, has enhanced still further both the expense of exercising and disciplining any particular number of soldiers in time of peace, and that of employing them in time of war. Both their arms and their ammunition are become more expensive. A musket is a more expensive machine than a javelin or a bow and arrows; a cannon or a mortar, than a balista or a catapulta. The powder which is spent in a modern review is lost irrecoverably, and occasions a very considerable expense. The javelins and arrows which were thrown or shot in an ancient one, could easily be picked up again, and were, besides, of very little value. The cannon and the mortar are not only much dearer, but much heavier machines than the balista or catapulta; and require a greater expense, not only to prepare them for the field, but to carry them to it. As the superiority of the modern artillery, too, over that of the ancients, is very great; it has become much more difficult, and consequently much more expensive, to fortify a town, so as to resist, even for a few weeks, the attack of that superior artillery. In modern times, many different causes contribute to render the defence of the society more expensive. The unavoidable effects of the natural progress of improvement have, in this respect, been a good deal enhanced by a great revolution in the art of war, to which a mere accident, the invention of gunpowder, seems to have given occasion.
In modern war, the great expense of firearms gives an evident advantage to the nation which can best afford that expense; and, consequently, to an opulent and civilized, over a poor and barbarous nation. In ancient times, the opulent and civilized found it difficult to defend themselves against the poor and barbarous nations. In modern times, the poor and barbarous find it difficult to defend themselves against the opulent and civilized. The invention of fire-arms, an invention which at first sight appears to be so pernicious, is certainly favourable, both to the permanency and to the extension of civilization.
PART II. Of the Expense of Justice
The second duty of the sovereign, that of protecting, as far as possible, every member of the society from the injustice or oppression of every other member of it, or the duty of establishing an exact administration of justice, requires two very different degrees of expense in the different periods of society.
Among nations of hunters, as there is scarce any property, or at least none that exceeds the value of two or three days labour; so there is seldom any established magistrate, or any regular administration of justice. Men who have no property, can injure one another only in their persons or reputations. But when one man kills, wounds, beats, or defames another, though he to whom the injury is done suffers, he who does it receives no benefit. It is otherwise with the injuries to property. The benefit of the person who does the injury is often equal to the loss of him who suffers it. Envy, malice, or resentment, are the only passions which can prompt one man to injure another in his person or reputation. But the greater part of men are not very frequently under the influence of those passions; and the very worst men are so only occasionally. As their gratification, too, how agreeable soever it may be to certain characters, is not attended with any real or permanent advantage, it is, in the greater part of men, commonly restrained by prudential considerations. Men may live together in society with some tolerable degree of security, though there is no civil magistrate to protect them from the injustice of those passions. But avarice and ambition in the rich, in the poor the hatred of labour and the love of present ease and enjoyment, are the passions which prompt to invade property; passions much more steady in their operation, and much more universal in their influence. Wherever there is a great property, there is great inequality. For one very rich man, there must be at least five hundred poor, and the affluence of the few supposes the indigence of the many. The affluence of the rich excites the indignation of the poor, who are often both driven by want, and prompted by envy to invade his possessions. It is only under the shelter of the civil magistrate, that the owner of that valuable property, which is acquired by the labour of many years, or perhaps of many successive generations, can sleep a single night in security. He is at all times surrounded by unknown enemies, whom, though he never provoked, he can never appease, and from whose injustice he can be protected only by the powerful arm of the civil magistrate, continually held up to chastise it. The acquisition of valuable and extensive property, therefore, necessarily requires the establishment of civil government. Where there is no property, or at least none that exceeds the value of two or three days labour, civil government is not so necessary.
Civil government supposes a certain subordination. But as the necessity of civil government gradually grows up with the acquisition of valuable property; so the principal causes, which naturally introduce subordination, gradually grow up with the growth of that valuable property.
The causes or circumstances which naturally introduce subordination, or which naturally and antecedent to any civil institution, give some men some superiority over the greater part of their brethren, seem to be four in number.
The first of those causes or circumstances, is the superiority of personal qualifications, of strength, beauty, and agility of body; of wisdom and virtue; of prudence, justice, fortitude, and moderation of mind. The qualifications of the body, unless supported by those of the mind, can give little authority in any period of society. He is a very strong man, who, by mere strength of body, can force two weak ones to obey him. The qualifications of the mind can alone give very great authority. They are however, invisible qualities; always disputable, and generally disputed. No society, whether barbarous or civilized, has ever found it convenient to settle the rules of precedency of rank and subordination, according to those invisible qualities; but according to something that is more plain and palpable.
The second of those causes or circumstances, is the superiority of age. An old man, provided his age is not so far advanced as to give suspicion of dotage, is everywhere more respected than a young man of equal rank, fortune, and abilities. Among nations of hunters, such as the native tribes of North America, age is the sole foundation of rank and precedency. Among them, father is the appellation of a superior; brother, of an equal; and son, of an inferior. In the most opulent and civilized nations, age regulates rank among those who are in every other respect equal; and among whom, therefore, there is nothing else to regulate it. Among brothers and among sisters, the eldest always takes place; and in the succession of the paternal estate, every thing which cannot be divided, but must go entire to one person, such as a title of honour, is in most cases given to the eldest. Age is a plain and palpable quality, which admits of no dispute.
English
Many different causes helped weaken the discipline of the Roman armies. Its extreme severity was perhaps one of them. In the days of their greatness, when no enemy seemed capable of opposing them, they put aside their heavy armor as an unnecessary burden and neglected their arduous exercises as unnecessary toil. Under the Roman emperors, moreover, Rome's standing armies, particularly those guarding the German and Pannonian frontiers, became dangerous to their rulers, against whom they frequently raised their own generals. To make them less formidable, according to some authors Dioclesian, according to others Constantine, first withdrew them from the frontier, where they had previously always camped in large bodies, generally of two or three legions each, and scattered them in small detachments among the provincial towns. From these towns they were hardly ever moved except when an invasion had to be repelled. Small detachments of soldiers, quartered in trading and manufacturing towns and seldom moved from their quarters, themselves became tradesmen, artisans, and manufacturers. The civilian character came to predominate over the military one; and Rome's standing armies gradually degenerated into a corrupt, neglected, undisciplined militia, incapable of resisting the German and Scythian militias that soon afterwards invaded the western empire. Only by hiring the militia of some of these nations to oppose those of others could the emperors defend themselves for a time. The fall of the western empire is the third great revolution in human affairs of which ancient history has preserved any distinct and detailed account. It was brought about by the irresistible superiority that the militia of a barbarous nation has over that of a civilized nation; that the militia of a nation of shepherds has over that of a nation of farmers, artisans, and manufacturers. The victories won by militias have generally been won not over standing armies but over other militias inferior to them in training and discipline. Such were the victories of the Greek militia over that of the Persian empire, and such, in later times, were the victories of the Swiss militia over those of the Austrians and Burgundians.
The military force of the German and Scythian nations that established themselves upon the ruins of the western empire remained for some time much the same in their new settlements as it had been in their original countries. It was a militia of shepherds and farmers who, in war, took the field under the same chieftains they were accustomed to obey in peace. It was therefore reasonably well trained and disciplined. As arts and industry advanced, however, the chieftains' authority gradually declined, and the great body of the people had less time to spare for military exercises. The discipline and training of the feudal militia therefore gradually fell into ruin, and standing armies were gradually introduced to take its place. Once one civilized nation had adopted the expedient of a standing army, moreover, all its neighbors had to follow its example. They soon found that their safety depended on doing so and that their own militia was wholly incapable of resisting such an army.
The soldiers of a standing army, though they may never have seen an enemy, have often shown all the courage of veteran troops and been fit to face the hardiest and most experienced veterans the moment they took the field. In 1756, when the Russian army marched into Poland, the courage of Russian soldiers seemed no less than that of the Prussians, then thought the hardiest and most experienced veterans in Europe. Yet the Russian empire had enjoyed deep peace for nearly twenty years before that, and could then have had very few soldiers who had ever seen an enemy. When the Spanish war broke out in 1739, England had enjoyed deep peace for about twenty-eight years. Yet far from having been corrupted by that long peace, the courage of her soldiers was never more conspicuous than in the attack on Carthagena, the first unfortunate exploit of that unfortunate war. During a long peace, generals may perhaps sometimes forget their skill; but where a well-regulated standing army is maintained, its soldiers seem never to forget their courage.
When a civilized nation relies on a militia for its defense, it is always exposed to conquest by any barbarous nation in its neighborhood. The frequent conquests of all the civilized countries of Asia by the Tartars amply demonstrate the natural superiority of a barbarous nation's militia over a civilized nation's. A well-regulated standing army is superior to every militia. Since such an army can best be maintained by an affluent and civilized nation, it alone can defend that nation against invasion by a poor and barbarous neighbor. Only by means of a standing army, therefore, can a country's civilization be perpetuated, or even preserved for any considerable time.
Just as a civilized country can be defended only by a well-regulated standing army, so a barbarous country can be civilized fairly rapidly only by such an army. A standing army establishes the sovereign's law with irresistible force throughout the remotest provinces of the empire, and maintains some degree of orderly government in countries that could not otherwise sustain any. Anyone who carefully examines the improvements Peter the Great introduced into the Russian empire will find that nearly all of them amount to the establishment of a well-regulated standing army. That army is the instrument that carries out and maintains all his other regulations. The degree of order and internal peace that the empire has enjoyed ever since is due entirely to its influence.
Men of republican principles have viewed a standing army with suspicion as a danger to liberty. It certainly is one wherever the interests of the general and the chief officers are not necessarily bound to the preservation of the constitution of the state. Caesar's standing army destroyed the Roman republic. Cromwell's standing army drove the long parliament out of office. But where the sovereign is himself the general, and the country's leading nobility and gentry are the army's chief officers; where military force is commanded by those who have the greatest interest in preserving civil authority because they themselves have the greatest share of it, a standing army can never endanger liberty. On the contrary, it may in some cases favor liberty. The security it gives the sovereign makes unnecessary the oppressive vigilance that in some modern republics seems to watch the smallest actions and stands always ready to disturb every citizen's peace. Where the magistrate's security, though backed by the country's leading people, is imperiled by every outbreak of popular discontent; where a small tumult can bring about a great revolution in a few hours, the whole authority of government must be used to suppress and punish every murmur and complaint against it. By contrast, the rudest, most groundless, most unrestrained protests can cause little disturbance to a sovereign who feels supported not only by the country's natural aristocracy but also by a well-regulated standing army. He can safely pardon or disregard them, and awareness of his own superiority naturally inclines him to do so. A degree of liberty approaching license can be tolerated only in countries where the sovereign is protected by a well-regulated standing army. Only in such countries does public safety not require that the sovereign be entrusted with discretionary power to suppress even the impertinent excesses of that unrestrained liberty.
The sovereign's first duty, then, that of defending society against the violence and injustice of other independent societies, grows steadily more expensive as society advances in civilization. Society's military force, which originally cost the sovereign nothing in either peace or war, must, as improvement progresses, first be maintained by him in wartime and then even in peacetime.
The great change in the art of war brought about by the invention of firearms has increased still further both the peacetime expense of training and disciplining any given number of soldiers and the wartime expense of employing them. Their weapons and ammunition have both become more costly. A musket costs more than a javelin or a bow and arrows; a cannon or mortar more than a ballista or catapult. Powder spent in a modern military review is irrecoverably lost and entails a very considerable expense. The javelins and arrows thrown or shot in an ancient review could readily be gathered up again and were, besides, of very little value. Cannon and mortars are not only much more expensive but much heavier than ballistas or catapults, requiring greater expense both to prepare for the field and to carry there. The superiority of modern artillery over ancient artillery is also so great that fortifying a town to withstand even a few weeks of its attack has become far more difficult, and consequently far more expensive. In modern times, many different causes make the defense of society more costly. The unavoidable effects of the natural progress of improvement have in this respect been greatly intensified by a revolution in the art of war apparently occasioned by a mere accident: the invention of gunpowder.
In modern war, the great expense of firearms gives an evident advantage to the nation best able to afford them and, consequently, to an affluent and civilized nation over a poor and barbarous one. In ancient times affluent, civilized nations found it difficult to defend themselves against poor, barbarous nations. In modern times poor, barbarous nations find it difficult to defend themselves against affluent, civilized ones. The invention of firearms, which at first sight seems so destructive, certainly favors both the permanence and the spread of civilization.
PART II. On the Expense of Justice
The sovereign's second duty, that of protecting, so far as possible, every member of society from injustice or oppression by every other member, or of establishing an exact administration of justice, requires very different degrees of expense at different stages of society.
Among nations of hunters, since there is hardly any property, or at least none worth more than two or three days' labor, there is seldom an established magistrate or a regular administration of justice. People without property can injure one another only in person or reputation. But when one person kills, wounds, beats, or defames another, the victim suffers while the offender gains nothing. Injuries to property are different. The offender's gain is often equal to the victim's loss. Envy, malice, or resentment are the only passions that prompt one person to injure another's person or reputation. Most people, however, are not often under their influence, and even the worst are so only occasionally. And since indulging these passions, however agreeable it may be to certain characters, brings no real or lasting advantage, prudence commonly restrains them in most people. People may live together in society with a tolerable degree of security even without a civil magistrate to protect them from injustices arising from these passions. But greed and ambition among the rich, and among the poor an aversion to labor and a love of immediate ease and enjoyment, are the passions that prompt attacks on property—passions far steadier in their operation and far more universal in their influence. Wherever property is extensive, inequality is great. For every very rich man there must be at least five hundred poor, and the affluence of the few presupposes the poverty of the many. The rich man's affluence arouses the indignation of the poor, who are often driven by want and prompted by envy to invade his possessions. Only under the protection of the civil magistrate can the owner of valuable property acquired by the labor of many years, or perhaps of many successive generations, sleep securely for a single night. He is always surrounded by unknown enemies whom he has never provoked yet can never appease; only the powerful arm of the civil magistrate, continually raised to punish their injustice, can protect him. The acquisition of valuable and extensive property therefore necessarily calls for the establishment of civil government. Where there is no property, or at least none worth more than two or three days' labor, civil government is less necessary.
Civil government presupposes a certain subordination. But just as the need for civil government gradually grows with the acquisition of valuable property, so the chief causes that naturally introduce subordination gradually grow with that property.
The causes or circumstances that naturally introduce subordination, giving some people superiority over most of their fellows naturally and before any civil institution exists, seem to be four.
The first is superiority in personal qualities: bodily strength, beauty, and agility; wisdom and virtue; prudence, justice, courage, and moderation of mind. Bodily qualities, unless supported by mental ones, confer little authority at any stage of society. A man must be very strong to force two weaker men to obey him through bodily strength alone. Only qualities of mind can confer very great authority. They are, however, invisible qualities, always open to dispute and generally disputed. No society, barbarous or civilized, has ever found it convenient to settle precedence of rank and subordination according to such invisible qualities rather than something more obvious and tangible.
The second cause is superiority of age. An old man, provided he is not so old as to raise suspicions of senility, is everywhere more respected than a young man of equal rank, fortune, and abilities. Among nations of hunters, such as the native tribes of North America, age is the sole basis of rank and precedence. Among them, father is the name for a superior, brother for an equal, and son for an inferior. In the most affluent and civilized nations, age determines rank among those equal in every other respect, who therefore have no other means of determining it. Among brothers and among sisters, the eldest always takes precedence; and in succession to a father's estate, anything that cannot be divided but must pass whole to one person, such as a title of honor, is usually given to the eldest. Age is an obvious and tangible quality that admits of no dispute.
Book V, Chapter I, 4
18th-century English
The third of those causes or circumstances, is the superiority of fortune. The authority of riches, however, though great in every age of society, is, perhaps, greatest in the rudest ages of society, which admits of any considerable inequality of fortune. A Tartar chief, the increase of whose flocks and herds is sufficient to maintain a thousand men, cannot well employ that increase in any other way than in maintaining a thousand men. The rude state of his society does not afford him any manufactured produce any trinkets or baubles of any kind, for which he can exchange that part of his rude produce which is over and above his own consumption. The thousand men whom he thus maintains, depending entirely upon him for their subsistence, must both obey his orders in war, and submit to his jurisdiction in peace. He is necessarily both their general and their judge, and his chieftainship is the necessary effect of the superiority of his fortune. In an opulent and civilized society, a man may possess a much greater fortune, and yet not be able to command a dozen of people. Though the produce of his estate may be sufficient to maintain, and may, perhaps, actually maintain, more than a thousand people, yet, as those people pay for every thing which they get from him, as he gives scarce any thing to any body but in exchange for an equivalent, there is scarce anybody who considers himself as entirely dependent upon him, and his authority extends only over a few menial servants. The authority of fortune, however, is very great, even in an opulent and civilized society. That it is much greater than that either of age or of personal qualities, has been the constant complaint of every period of society which admitted of any considerable inequality of fortune. The first period of society, that of hunters, admits of no such inequality. Universal poverty establishes their universal equality; and the superiority, either of age or of personal qualities, are the feeble, but the sole foundations of authority and subordination. There is, therefore, little or no authority or subordination in this period of society. The second period of society, that of shepherds, admits of very great inequalities of fortune, and there is no period in which the superiority of fortune gives so great authority to those who possess it. There is no period, accordingly, in which authority and subordination are more perfectly established. The authority of an Arabian scherif is very great; that of a Tartar khan altogether despotical.
The fourth of those causes or circumstances, is the superiority of birth. Superiority of birth supposes an ancient superiority of fortune in the family of the person who claims it. All families are equally ancient; and the ancestors of the prince, though they may be better known, cannot well be more numerous than those of the beggar. Antiquity of family means everywhere the antiquity either of wealth, or of that greatness which is commonly either founded upon wealth, or accompanied with it. Upstart greatness is everywhere less respected than ancient greatness. The hatred of usurpers, the love of the family of an ancient monarch, are in a great measure founded upon the contempt which men naturally have for the former, and upon their veneration for the latter. As a military officer submits, without reluctance, to the authority of a superior by whom he has always been commanded, but cannot bear that his inferior should be set over his head; so men easily submit to a family to whom they and their ancestors have always submitted; but are fired with indignation when another family, in whom they had never acknowledged any such superiority, assumes a dominion over them.
The distinction of birth, being subsequent to the inequality of fortune, can have no place in nations of hunters, among whom all men, being equal in fortune, must likewise be very nearly equal in birth. The son of a wise and brave man may, indeed, even among them, be somewhat more respected than a man of equal merit, who has the misfortune to be the son of a fool or a coward. The difference, however will not be very great; and there never was, I believe, a great family in the world, whose illustration was entirely derived from the inheritance of wisdom and virtue.
The distinction of birth not only may, but always does, take place among nations of shepherds. Such nations are always strangers to every sort of luxury, and great wealth can scarce ever be dissipated among them by improvident profusion. There are no nations, accordingly, who abound more in families revered and honoured on account of their descent from a long race of great and illustrious ancestors; because there are no nations among whom wealth is likely to continue longer in the same families.
Birth and fortune are evidently the two circumstances which principally set one man above another. They are the two great sources of personal distinction, and are, therefore, the principal causes which naturally establish authority and subordination among men. Among nations of shepherds, both those causes operate with their full force. The great shepherd or herdsman, respected on account of his great wealth, and of the great number of those who depend upon him for subsistence, and revered on account of the nobleness of his birth, and of the immemorial antiquity or his illustrious family, has a natural authority over all the inferior shepherds or herdsmen of his horde or clan. He can command the united force of a greater number of people than any of them. His military power is greater than that of any of them. In time of war, they are all of them naturally disposed to muster themselves under his banner, rather than under that of any other person; and his birth and fortune thus naturally procure to him some sort of executive power. By commanding, too, the united force of a greater number of people than any of them, he is best able to compel any one of them, who may have injured another, to compensate the wrong. He is the person, therefore, to whom all those who are too weak to defend themselves naturally look up for protection. It is to him that they naturally complain of the injuries which they imagine have been done to them; and his interposition, in such cases, is more easily submitted to, even by the person complained of, than that of any other person would be. His birth and fortune thus naturally procure him some sort of judicial authority.
It is in the age of shepherds, in the second period of society, that the inequality of fortune first begins to take place, and introduces among men a degree of authority and subordination, which could not possibly exist before. It thereby introduces some degree of that civil government which is indispensably necessary for its own preservation; and it seems to do this naturally, and even independent of the consideration of that necessity. The consideration of that necessity comes, no doubt, afterwards, to contribute very much to maintain and secure that authority and subordination. The rich, in particular, are necessarily interested to support that order of things, which can alone secure them in the possession of their own advantages. Men of inferior wealth combine to defend those of superior wealth in the possession of their property, in order that men of superior wealth may combine to defend them in the possession of theirs. All the inferior shepherds and herdsmen feel, that the security of their own herds and flocks depends upon the security of those of the great shepherd or herdsman; that the maintenance of their lesser authority depends upon that of his greater authority; and that upon their subordination to him depends his power of keeping their inferiors in subordination to them. They constitute a sort of little nobility, who feel themselves interested to defend the property, and to support the authority, of their own little sovereign, in order that he may be able to defend their property, and to support their authority. Civil government, so far as it is instituted for the security of property, is, in reality, instituted for the defence of the rich against the poor, or of those who have some property against those who have none at all.
The judicial authority of such a sovereign, however, far from being a cause of expense, was, for a long time, a source of revenue to him. The persons who applied to him for justice were always willing to pay for it, and a present never failed to accompany a petition. After the authority of the sovereign, too, was thoroughly established, the person found guilty, over and above the satisfaction which he was obliged to make to the party, was like-wise forced to pay an amercement to the sovereign. He had given trouble, he had disturbed, he had broke the peace of his lord the king, and for those offences an amercement was thought due. In the Tartar governments of Asia, in the governments of Europe which were founded by the German and Scythian nations who overturned the Roman empire, the administration of justice was a considerable source of revenue, both to the sovereign, and to all the lesser chiefs or lords who exercised under him any particular jurisdiction, either over some particular tribe or clan, or over some particular territory or district. Originally, both the sovereign and the inferior chiefs used to exercise this jurisdiction in their own persons. Afterwards, they universally found it convenient to delegate it to some substitute, bailiff, or judge. This substitute, however, was still obliged to account to his principal or constituent for the profits of the jurisdiction. Whoever reads the instructions (They are to be found in Tyrol’s History of England) which were given to the judges of the circuit in the time of Henry II will see clearly that those judges were a sort of itinerant factors, sent round the country for the purpose of levying certain branches of the king’s revenue. In those days, the administration of justice not only afforded a certain revenue to the sovereign, but, to procure this revenue, seems to have been one of the principal advantages which he proposed to obtain by the administration of justice.
This scheme of making the administration of justice subservient to the purposes of revenue, could scarce fail to be productive of several very gross abuses. The person who applied for justice with a large present in his hand, was likely to get something more than justice; while he who applied for it with a small one was likely to get something less. Justice, too, might frequently be delayed, in order that this present might be repeated. The amercement, besides, of the person complained of, might frequently suggest a very strong reason for finding him in the wrong, even when he had not really been so. That such abuses were far from being uncommon, the ancient history of every country in Europe bears witness.
When the sovereign or chief exercises his judicial authority in his own person, how much soever he might abuse it, it must have been scarce possible to get any redress; because there could seldom be any body powerful enough to call him to account. When he exercised it by a bailiff, indeed, redress might sometimes be had. If it was for his own benefit only, that the bailiff had been guilty of an act of injustice, the sovereign himself might not always be unwilling to punish him, or to oblige him to repair the wrong. But if it was for the benefit of his sovereign; if it was in order to make court to the person who appointed him, and who might prefer him, that he had committed any act of oppression; redress would, upon most occasions, be as impossible as if the sovereign had committed it himself. In all barbarous governments, accordingly, in all those ancient governments of Europe in particular, which were founded upon the ruins of the Roman empire, the administration of justice appears for a long time to have been extremely corrupt; far from being quite equal and impartial, even under the best monarchs, and altogether profligate under the worst.
Among nations of shepherds, where the sovereign or chief is only the greatest shepherd or herdsman of the horde or clan, he is maintained in the same manner as any of his vassals or subjects, by the increase of his own herds or flocks. Among those nations of husbandmen, who are but just come out of the shepherd state, and who are not much advanced beyond that state, such as the Greek tribes appear to have been about the time of the Trojan war, and our German and Scythian ancestors, when they first settled upon the ruins of the western empire; the sovereign or chief is, in the same manner, only the greatest landlord of the country, and is maintained in the same manner as any other landlord, by a revenue derived from his own private estate, or from what, in modern Europe, was called the demesne of the crown. His subjects, upon ordinary occasions, contribute nothing to his support, except when, in order to protect them from the oppression of some of their fellow-subjects, they stand in need of his authority. The presents which they make him upon such occasions constitute the whole ordinary revenue, the whole of the emoluments which, except, perhaps, upon some very extraordinary emergencies, he derives from his dominion over them. When Agamemnon, in Homer, offers to Achilles, for his friendship, the sovereignty of seven Greek cities, the sole advantage which he mentions as likely to be derived from it was, that the people would honour him with presents. As long as such presents, as long as the emoluments of justice, or what may be called the fees of court, constituted, in this manner, the whole ordinary revenue which the sovereign derived from his sovereignty, it could not well be expected, it could not even decently be proposed, that he should give them up altogether. It might, and it frequently was proposed, that he should regulate and ascertain them. But after they had been so regulated and ascertained, how to hinder a person who was all-powerful from extending them beyond those regulations, was still very difficult, not to say impossible. During the continuance of this state of things, therefore, the corruption of justice, naturally resulting from the arbitrary and uncertain nature of those presents, scarce admitted of any effectual remedy.
But when, from different causes, chiefly from the continually increasing expense of defending the nation against the invasion of other nations, the private estate of the sovereign had become altogether insufficient for defraying the expense of the sovereignty; and when it had become necessary that the people should, for their own security, contribute towards this expense by taxes of different kinds; it seems to have been very commonly stipulated, that no present for the administration of justice should, under any pretence, be accepted either by the sovereign, or by his bailiffs and substitutes, the judges. Those presents, it seems to have been supposed, could more easily be abolished altogether, than effectually regulated and ascertained. Fixed salaries were appointed to the judges, which were supposed to compensate to them the loss of whatever might have been their share of the ancient emoluments of justice; as the taxes more than compensated to the sovereign the loss of his. Justice was then said to be administered gratis.
Justice, however, never was in reality administered gratis in any country. Lawyers and attorneys, at least, must always be paid by the parties; and if they were not, they would perform their duty still worse than they actually perform it. The fees annually paid to lawyers and attorneys, amount, in every court, to a much greater sum than the salaries of the judges. The circumstance of those salaries being paid by the crown, can nowhere much diminish the necessary expense of a law-suit. But it was not so much to diminish the expense, as to prevent the corruption of justice, that the judges were prohibited from receiving my present or fee from the parties.
English
The third of these causes or circumstances is superiority of fortune. The authority of riches, however, though great at every stage of society, is perhaps greatest at the earliest stages that allow any considerable inequality of fortune. A Tartar chief whose flocks and herds have increased enough to support a thousand men can hardly use that increase in any way other than to support a thousand men. His society in its rudimentary state offers him no manufactured goods, no trinkets or baubles of any kind, for which to exchange the part of his raw produce that exceeds his own consumption. The thousand men he thus supports, being entirely dependent on him for their subsistence, must obey his orders in war and submit to his judgment in peace. He is necessarily both their general and their judge, and his chieftainship follows necessarily from his greater fortune. In an affluent and civilized society, a man may possess a far greater fortune and yet be unable to command a dozen people. Though his estate's produce may suffice to support, and perhaps actually supports, more than a thousand people, they pay for everything they receive from him; he gives hardly anything to anyone except in return for its equivalent. Hardly anyone therefore considers himself entirely dependent on him, and his authority extends only to a few household servants. The authority of fortune, however, remains very great even in an affluent and civilized society. The fact that it is far greater than the authority of either age or personal qualities has been a constant complaint at every stage of society that allowed any considerable inequality of fortune. The first stage of society, that of hunters, allows no such inequality. Universal poverty establishes universal equality among them; superiority in age or personal qualities provides the weak but only foundations of authority and subordination. At this stage of society, therefore, there is little or no authority or subordination. The second stage, that of shepherds, allows very great inequalities of fortune, and at no other stage does superior fortune give its possessors such great authority. Accordingly, at no other stage are authority and subordination more firmly established. The authority of an Arabian scherif is very great; that of a Tartar khan is altogether despotic.
The fourth of these causes or circumstances is superiority of birth. Superior birth presupposes an ancient superiority of fortune in the family of the person who claims it. All families are equally ancient; and a prince's ancestors, though better known, can hardly be more numerous than a beggar's. Antiquity of family everywhere means antiquity either of wealth or of the greatness commonly founded on wealth or accompanied by it. New greatness is everywhere less respected than old greatness. Hatred of usurpers and love for the family of an ancient monarch are largely founded on people's natural contempt for the former and reverence for the latter. Just as a military officer submits without reluctance to the authority of a superior who has always commanded him, but cannot bear to see a former inferior placed above him, so people readily submit to a family to which they and their ancestors have always submitted, but burn with indignation when another family, whose superiority they have never recognized, claims dominion over them.
Distinction of birth follows inequality of fortune and therefore has no place among nations of hunters, where all are equal in fortune and must likewise be nearly equal in birth. The son of a wise and brave man may indeed be somewhat more respected even among them than an equally worthy man who has the misfortune of being the son of a fool or coward. The difference, however, will not be very great; and I believe there has never been a great family in the world whose distinction derived entirely from inherited wisdom and virtue.
Distinction of birth not only can arise among nations of shepherds but always does. Such nations are strangers to every form of luxury, and great wealth can hardly ever be dissipated among them through improvident extravagance. Accordingly, no nations abound more in families revered and honored for descent from a long line of great and illustrious ancestors, because among no nations is wealth more likely to remain longer in the same families.
Birth and fortune are clearly the two circumstances that chiefly place one person above another. They are the two great sources of personal distinction and therefore the principal causes that naturally establish authority and subordination among people. Among nations of shepherds, both causes operate with their full force. The great shepherd or herdsman, respected for his great wealth and the great number of people who depend on him for subsistence, and revered for his noble birth and the immemorial antiquity of his illustrious family, has a natural authority over all the lesser shepherds or herdsmen of his horde or clan. He can command the combined force of more people than any of them. His military power is greater than any of theirs. In war they are all naturally inclined to gather under his banner rather than anyone else's; his birth and fortune thus naturally confer on him a kind of executive power. By commanding the combined force of more people than any of them, he is also best able to compel anyone who has injured another to make amends. Thus those too weak to defend themselves naturally look to him for protection. They naturally bring him complaints about the injuries they believe they have suffered, and even the person complained against submits more readily to his intervention than to anyone else's. His birth and fortune thus naturally confer on him a kind of judicial authority.
It is in the age of shepherds, the second stage of society, that inequality of fortune first begins to arise and introduces among people a degree of authority and subordination that could not previously have existed. It thereby introduces some degree of the civil government indispensable for its own preservation; and it appears to do so naturally, even without regard to that necessity. Awareness of the necessity no doubt comes afterward and greatly helps maintain and secure that authority and subordination. The rich in particular necessarily have an interest in upholding the order of things that alone can secure their advantages. People of lesser wealth join together to defend the property of those with greater wealth so that the latter may join together to defend theirs. All the lesser shepherds and herdsmen feel that the security of their own herds and flocks depends on the security of the great shepherd's or herdsman's; that the maintenance of their lesser authority depends on the maintenance of his greater authority; and that his power to keep those below them subordinate to them depends on their own subordination to him. They form a sort of lesser nobility with an interest in defending the property and supporting the authority of their own lesser sovereign, so that he may defend their property and support their authority. Civil government, insofar as it is instituted to secure property, is in reality instituted to defend the rich against the poor, or those who have some property against those who have none at all.
The judicial authority of such a sovereign, however, far from costing him anything, was for a long time a source of revenue. Those who appealed to him for justice were always willing to pay for it, and a petition never came without a gift. Once the sovereign's authority was fully established, moreover, a person found guilty was forced to pay the sovereign a fine in addition to making restitution to the injured party. He had caused trouble, disturbed and broken the peace of his lord the king, and for these offenses a fine was thought due. In the Tartar governments of Asia, and in the governments of Europe founded by the German and Scythian nations that overturned the Roman empire, the administration of justice was a considerable source of revenue both to the sovereign and to all the lesser chiefs or lords exercising jurisdiction under him over a particular tribe or clan or a particular territory or district. Originally both the sovereign and the lesser chiefs exercised this jurisdiction in person. Later they all found it convenient to delegate it to a substitute, bailiff, or judge. This substitute, however, still had to account to the person who appointed him for the profits of his jurisdiction. Anyone who reads the instructions (They are to be found in Tyrol’s History of England) given to the circuit judges in the time of Henry II will clearly see that those judges were a kind of traveling agents sent around the country to collect certain branches of the king's revenue. In those days administering justice not only brought the sovereign a certain revenue, but obtaining that revenue seems to have been one of the chief advantages he hoped to gain from administering justice.
This scheme of making the administration of justice serve the purposes of revenue could hardly fail to produce several very serious abuses. The person who sought justice with a large gift in hand was likely to receive something more than justice, while the one who brought a small gift was likely to receive something less. Justice, too, might often be delayed to make the gift recur. The fine imposed on the person complained against could also often provide a strong reason to find him in the wrong even when he was not. That such abuses were far from rare is attested by the ancient history of every European country.
When the sovereign or chief exercised judicial authority in person, however much he abused it, redress must have been almost impossible, for there could seldom be anyone powerful enough to hold him accountable. When he exercised it through a bailiff, redress could sometimes be obtained. If the bailiff committed an injustice solely for his own benefit, the sovereign might not always be unwilling to punish him or require him to repair the wrong. But if he committed an act of oppression for his sovereign's benefit, to court the favor of the person who appointed him and might promote him, redress would usually be as impossible as if the sovereign himself had committed it. Accordingly, in all barbarous governments, particularly the ancient governments of Europe founded on the ruins of the Roman empire, the administration of justice appears to have remained extremely corrupt for a long time: far from wholly fair and impartial even under the best monarchs, and utterly venal under the worst.
Among nations of shepherds, where the sovereign or chief is merely the greatest shepherd or herdsman of the horde or clan, he maintains himself as any of his vassals or subjects does, from the increase of his own herds or flocks. Among farming nations that have only just emerged from the shepherd state and have not advanced much beyond it, such as the Greek tribes appear to have been around the time of the Trojan war, and our German and Scythian ancestors when they first settled on the ruins of the western empire, the sovereign or chief is similarly only the country's greatest landlord. He maintains himself like any other landlord on revenue from his own private estate, or from what in modern Europe was called the demesne of the crown. Ordinarily his subjects contribute nothing to his support, except when they need his authority to protect them from oppression by fellow subjects. The gifts they make him on such occasions constitute all the ordinary revenue, all the proceeds that he derives from his dominion over them except perhaps in very extraordinary emergencies. When Agamemnon, in Homer, offers Achilles sovereignty over seven Greek cities in exchange for his friendship, the only benefit he mentions is that the people will honor him with gifts. So long as such gifts, the proceeds of justice, or what might be called court fees, formed the whole ordinary revenue the sovereign derived from sovereignty, one could hardly expect, or even decently propose, that he should surrender them entirely. It could be, and often was, proposed that he regulate and fix them. But once they were regulated and fixed, preventing an all-powerful person from increasing them beyond those limits remained very difficult, if not impossible. As long as this state of affairs endured, therefore, the corruption of justice that naturally arose from the arbitrary and uncertain nature of such gifts hardly admitted of any effective remedy.
But when, for various reasons and chiefly because of the continually rising expense of defending the nation against invasion by other nations, the sovereign's private estate became entirely insufficient to meet the expenses of sovereignty, and when people had to contribute to those expenses through various taxes for their own security, it seems to have become a common stipulation that neither the sovereign nor his bailiffs and deputies, the judges, should accept any gift for administering justice on any pretext. Such gifts, it seems, were thought easier to abolish entirely than to regulate and fix effectively. Fixed salaries were assigned to the judges to compensate them, it was supposed, for losing their share of the old proceeds of justice, just as the taxes more than compensated the sovereign for losing his. Justice was then said to be administered free of charge.
Justice, however, was never really administered free of charge in any country. Lawyers and attorneys, at least, must always be paid by the parties; if they were not, they would perform their duties even worse than they actually do. The fees paid annually to lawyers and attorneys amount in every court to far more than the judges' salaries. The fact that those salaries are paid by the crown can nowhere greatly reduce the necessary expense of a lawsuit. The judges were prohibited from receiving any gift or fee from the parties not so much to reduce expense as to prevent the corruption of justice.
Book V, Chapter I, 5
18th-century English
The office of judge is in itself so very honourable, that men are willing to accept of it, though accompanied with very small emoluments. The inferior office of justice of peace, though attended with a good deal of trouble, and in most cases with no emoluments at all, is an object of ambition to the greater part of our country gentlemen. The salaries of all the different judges, high and low, together with the whole expense of the administration and execution of justice, even where it is not managed with very good economy, makes, in any civilized country, but a very inconsiderable part of the whole expense of government.
The whole expense of justice, too, might easily be defrayed by the fees of court; and, without exposing the administration of justice to any real hazard of corruption, the public revenue might thus be entirely discharged from a certain, though perhaps but a small incumbrance. It is difficult to regulate the fees of court effectually, where a person so powerful as the sovereign is to share in them and to derive any considerable part of his revenue from them. It is very easy, where the judge is the principal person who can reap any benefit from them. The law can very easily oblige the judge to respect the regulation though it might not always be able to make the sovereign respect it. Where the fees of court are precisely regulated and ascertained where they are paid all at once, at a certain period of every process, into the hands of a cashier or receiver, to be by him distributed in certain known proportions among the different judges after the process is decided and not till it is decided; there seems to be no more danger of corruption than when such fees are prohibited altogether. Those fees, without occasioning any considerable increase in the expense of a law-suit, might be rendered fully sufficient for defraying the whole expense of justice. But not being paid to the judges till the process was determined, they might be some incitement to the diligence of the court in examining and deciding it. In courts which consisted of a considerable number of judges, by proportioning the share of each judge to the number of hours and days which he had employed in examining the process, either in the court, or in a committee, by order of the court, those fees might give some encouragement to the diligence of each particular judge. Public services are never better performed, than when their reward comes only in consequence of their being performed, and is proportioned to the diligence employed in performing them. In the different parliaments of France, the fees of court (called epices and vacations) constitute the far greater part of the emoluments of the judges. After all deductions are made, the neat salary paid by the crown to a counsellor or judge in the parliament of Thoulouse, in rank and dignity the second parliament of the kingdom, amounts only to 150 livres, about £6:11s. sterling a-year. About seven years ago, that sum was in the same place the ordinary yearly wages of a common footman. The distribution of these epices, too, is according to the diligence of the judges. A diligent judge gains a comfortable, though moderate revenue, by his office; an idle one gets little more than his salary. Those parliaments are, perhaps, in many respects, not very convenient courts of justice; but they have never been accused; they seem never even to have been suspected of corruption.
The fees of court seem originally to have been the principal support of the different courts of justice in England. Each court endeavoured to draw to itself as much business as it could, and was, upon that account, willing to take cognizance of many suits which were not originally intended to fall under its jurisdiction. The court of king’s bench, instituted for the trial of criminal causes only, took cognizance of civil suits; the plaintiff pretending that the defendant, in not doing him justice, had been guilty of some trespass or misdemeanour. The court of exchequer, instituted for the levying of the king’s revenue, and for enforcing the payment of such debts only as were due to the king, took cognizance of all other contract debts; the planitiff alleging that he could not pay the king, because the defendant would not pay him. In consequence of such fictions, it came, in many cases, to depend altogether upon the parties, before what court they would choose to have their cause tried, and each court endeavoured, by superior dispatch and impartiality, to draw to itself as many causes as it could. The present admirable constitution of the courts of justice in England was, perhaps, originally, in a great measure, formed by this emulation, which anciently took place between their respective judges: each judge endeavouring to give, in his own court, the speediest and most effectual remedy which the law would admit, for every sort of injustice. Originally, the courts of law gave damages only for breach of contract. The court of chancery, as a court of conscience, first took upon it to enforce the specific performance of agreements. When the breach of contract consisted in the non-payment of money, the damage sustained could be compensated in no other way than by ordering payment, which was equivalent to a specific performance of the agreement. In such cases, therefore, the remedy of the courts of law was sufficient. It was not so in others. When the tenant sued his lord for having unjustly outed him of his lease, the damages which he recovered were by no means equivalent to the possession of the land. Such causes, therefore, for some time, went all to the court of chancery, to the no small loss of the courts of law. It was to draw back such causes to themselves, that the courts of law are said to have invented the artificial and fictitious writ of ejectment, the most effectual remedy for an unjust outer or dispossession of land.
A stamp-duty upon the law proceedings of each particular court, to be levied by that court, and applied towards the maintenance of the judges, and other officers belonging to it, might in the same manner, afford a revenue sufficient for defraying the expense of the administration of justice, without bringing any burden upon the general revenue of the society. The judges, indeed, might in this case, be under the temptation of multiplying unnecessarily the proceedings upon every cause, in order to increase, as much as possible, the produce of such a stamp-duty. It has been the custom in modern Europe to regulate, upon most occasions, the payment of the attorneys and clerks of court according to the number of pages which they had occasion to write; the court, however, requiring that each page should contain so many lines, and each line so many words. In order to increase their payment, the attorneys and clerks have contrived to multiply words beyond all necessity, to the corruption of the law language of, I believe, every court of justice in Europe. A like temptation might, perhaps, occasion a like corruption in the form of law proceedings.
But whether the administration of justice be so contrived as to defray its own expense, or whether the judges be maintained by fixed salaries paid to them from some other fund, it does not seen necessary that the person or persons entrusted with the executive power should be charged with the management of that fund, or with the payment of those salaries. That fund might arise from the rent of landed estates, the management of each estate being entrusted to the particular court which was to be maintained by it. That fund might arise even from the interest of a sum of money, the lending out of which might, in the same manner, be entrusted to the court which was to be maintained by it. A part, though indeed but a small part of the salary of the judges of the court of session in Scotland, arises from the interest of a sum of money. The necessary instability of such a fund seems, however, to render it an improper one for the maintenance of an institution which ought to last for ever.
The separation of the judicial from the executive power, seems originally to have arisen from the increasing business of the society, in consequence of its increasing improvement. The administration of justice became so laborious and so complicated a duty, as to require the undivided attention of the person to whom it was entrusted. The person entrusted with the executive power, not having leisure to attend to the decision of private causes himself, a deputy was appointed to decide them in his stead. In the progress of the Roman greatness, the consul was too much occupied with the political affairs of the state, to attend to the administration of justice. A praetor, therefore, was appointed to administer it in his stead. In the progress of the European monarchies, which were founded upon the ruins of the Roman empire, the sovereigns and the great lords came universally to consider the administration of justice as an office both too laborious and too ignoble for them to execute in their own persons. They universally, therefore, discharged themselves of it, by appointing a deputy, bailiff or judge.
When the judicial is united to the executive power, it is scarce possible that justice should not frequently be sacrificed to what is vulgarly called politics. The persons entrusted with the great interests of the state may even without any corrupt views, sometimes imagine it necessary to sacrifice to those interests the rights of a private man. But upon the impartial administration of justice depends the liberty of every individual, the sense which he has of his own security. In order to make every individual feel himself perfectly secure in the possession of every right which belongs to him, it is not only necessary that the judicial should be separated from the executive power, but that it should be rendered as much as possible independent of that power. The judge should not be liable to be removed from his office according to the caprice of that power. The regular payment of his salary should not depend upon the good will, or even upon the good economy of that power.
PART III. Of the Expense of public Works and public Institutions.
The third and last duty of the sovereign or commonwealth, is that of erecting and maintaining those public institutions and those public works, which though they may be in the highest degree advantageous to a great society, are, however, of such a nature, that the profit could never repay the expense to any individual, or small number of individuals; and which it, therefore, cannot be expected that any individual, or small number of individuals, should erect or maintain. The performance of this duty requires, too, very different degrees of expense in the different periods of society.
After the public institutions and public works necessary for the defence of the society, and for the administration of justice, both of which have already been mentioned, the other works and institutions of this kind are chiefly for facilitating the commerce of the society, and those for promoting the instruction of the people. The institutions for instruction are of two kinds: those for the education of the youth, and those for the instruction of people of all ages. The consideration of the manner in which the expense of those different sorts of public works and institutions may be most properly defrayed will divide this third part of the present chapter into three different articles.
ARTICLE I.—Of the public Works and Institutions for facilitating the Commerce of the Society.
And, first, of those which are necessary for facilitating Commerce in general.
That the erection and maintenance of the public works which facilitate the commerce of any country, such as good roads, bridges, navigable canals, harbours, etc. must require very different degrees of expense in the different periods of society, is evident without any proof. The expense of making and maintaining the public roads of any country must evidently increase with the annual produce of the land and labour of that country, or with the quantity and weight of the goods which it becomes necessary to fetch and carry upon those roads. The strength of a bridge must be suited to the number and weight of the carriages which are likely to pass over it. The depth and the supply of water for a navigable canal must be proportioned to the number and tonnage of the lighters which are likely to carry goods upon it; the extent of a harbour, to the number of the shipping which are likely to take shelter in it.
It does not seem necessary that the expense of those public works should be defrayed from that public revenue, as it is commonly called, of which the collection and application are in most countries, assigned to the executive power. The greater part of such public works may easily be so managed, as to afford a particular revenue, sufficient for defraying their own expense without bringing any burden upon the general revenue of the society.
A highway, a bridge, a navigable canal, for example, may, in most cases, be both made add maintained by a small toll upon the carriages which make use of them; a harbour, by a moderate port-duty upon the tonnage of the shipping which load or unload in it. The coinage, another institution for facilitating commerce, in many countries, not only defrays its own expense, but affords a small revenue or a seignorage to the sovereign. The post-office, another institution for the same purpose, over and above defraying its own expense, affords, in almost all countries, a very considerable revenue to the sovereign.
When the carriages which pass over a highway or a bridge, and the lighters which sail upon a navigable canal, pay toll in proportion to their weight or their tonnage, they pay for the maintenance of those public works exactly in proportion to the wear and tear which they occasion of them. It seems scarce possible to invent a more equitable way of maintaining such works. This tax or toll, too, though it is advanced by the carrier, is finally paid by the consumer, to whom it must always be charged in the price of the goods. As the expense of carriage, however, is very much reduced by means of such public works, the goods, notwithstanding the toll, come cheaper to the consumer than they could otherwise have done, their price not being so much raised by the toll, as it is lowered by the cheapness of the carriage. The person who finally pays this tax, therefore, gains by the application more than he loses by the payment of it. His payment is exactly in proportion to his gain. It is, in reality, no more than a part of that gain which he is obliged to give up, in order to get the rest. It seems impossible to imagine a more equitable method of raising a tax. When the toll upon carriages of luxury, upon coaches, post-chaises, etc. is made somewhat higher in proportion to their weight, than upon carriages of necessary use, such as carts, waggons, etc. the indolence and vanity of the rich is made to contribute, in a very easy manner, to the relief of the poor, by rendering cheaper the transportation of heavy goods to all the different parts of the country.
English
The office of judge is in itself so honorable that people are willing to accept it even with very small compensation. The lesser office of justice of the peace, though involving a good deal of trouble and usually bringing no compensation at all, is sought by most of our country gentlemen. The salaries of all the judges, high and low, together with the entire expense of administering and enforcing justice, amount in any civilized country to only a very small part of the total expense of government, even where they are not managed very economically.
The entire expense of justice, moreover, could easily be met by court fees; and without exposing its administration to any real danger of corruption, public revenue could thus be relieved entirely of a certain burden, though perhaps a small one. It is difficult to regulate court fees effectively when someone as powerful as the sovereign has a share in them and derives any considerable part of his revenue from them. It is very easy when the judge is the chief beneficiary. The law can very easily compel a judge to respect the regulation, though it might not always be able to compel the sovereign to do so. Where court fees are precisely regulated and fixed, and paid all at once at a specified stage of each case into the hands of a cashier or receiver, to be distributed by him in known proportions among the judges only after the case is decided, there seems no more danger of corruption than if such fees were prohibited altogether. These fees could be made fully sufficient to meet the whole expense of justice without significantly increasing the expense of a lawsuit. Since they would not be paid to the judges until the case was decided, they might encourage the court to examine and decide it diligently. In courts consisting of a considerable number of judges, if each judge's share were proportioned to the hours and days he spent examining the case, either in court or in a committee appointed by it, these fees might encourage each judge's diligence. Public services are never better performed than when payment follows their performance and is proportioned to the diligence with which they are performed. In the various parliaments of France, court fees (called epices and vacations) constitute by far the greater part of the judges' compensation. After all deductions, the net salary paid by the crown to a counselor or judge in the parliament of Thoulouse, the kingdom's second parliament in rank and dignity, amounts to only 150 livres, about £6:11s. sterling a year. About seven years ago, this sum was the ordinary yearly wage of a common footman in the same place. These epices, moreover, are distributed according to the judges' diligence. A diligent judge earns a comfortable, though moderate, income from his office; an idle one receives little more than his salary. Those parliaments are perhaps in many respects not very convenient courts of justice, but they have never been accused—or even, it seems, suspected—of corruption.
Court fees seem originally to have been the chief support of the different courts of justice in England. Each court tried to attract as much business as possible and was therefore willing to hear many suits not originally intended to fall within its jurisdiction. The court of king's bench, established solely for criminal cases, took up civil suits when the plaintiff pretended that the defendant, by failing to do him justice, had committed some trespass or misdemeanor. The court of exchequer, established to collect the king's revenue and enforce payment only of debts owed to the king, took up all other contract debts when the plaintiff alleged that he could not pay the king because the defendant would not pay him. Through such fictions, in many cases the parties could decide entirely for themselves which court should try their case, and each court tried to attract as many cases as it could by greater speed and impartiality. The present admirable constitution of England's courts of justice was perhaps originally shaped to a great extent by this rivalry among their judges: each judge strove in his own court to provide the quickest and most effective remedy the law allowed for every kind of injustice. Originally the courts of law awarded damages only for breach of contract. The court of chancery, acting as a court of conscience, was the first to undertake to enforce the specific performance of agreements. When a breach of contract consisted of failure to pay money, the resulting damage could be remedied only by ordering payment, equivalent to specific performance of the agreement. In such cases the remedy offered by the courts of law was sufficient. In others it was not. When a tenant sued his lord for unjustly evicting him from his lease, the damages he recovered were by no means equivalent to possession of the land. For some time, therefore, all such cases went to the court of chancery, to the considerable loss of the courts of law. To draw such cases back to themselves, the courts of law are said to have invented the artificial and fictitious writ of ejectment, the most effective remedy for unjust eviction or dispossession from land.
A stamp duty on the legal proceedings of each particular court, collected by that court and applied to the maintenance of its judges and other officers, might likewise provide revenue sufficient to meet the expense of administering justice without burdening society's general revenue. In this case, however, the judges might be tempted to multiply the proceedings in every case unnecessarily so as to increase the yield from the stamp duty as much as possible. In modern Europe it has usually been customary to set the payment of attorneys and court clerks according to the number of pages they had to write, while requiring each page to contain a specified number of lines and each line a specified number of words. To increase their payment, attorneys and clerks have contrived to multiply words beyond all necessity, corrupting the language of the law in, I believe, every European court of justice. A similar temptation might perhaps bring about a similar corruption in the form of legal proceedings.
But whether the administration of justice is arranged to meet its own expense or the judges are maintained on fixed salaries paid from another fund, it does not seem necessary to entrust the management of that fund or the payment of those salaries to those exercising executive power. The fund might come from the rent of landed estates, with management of each estate entrusted to the particular court it supported. It might even come from the interest on a sum of money, with the lending of that money likewise entrusted to the court it supported. Part, though only a small part, of the salaries of the judges of the court of session in Scotland comes from interest on a sum of money. The inevitable instability of such a fund, however, seems to make it unsuitable for maintaining an institution that ought to last forever.
The separation of judicial from executive power seems originally to have arisen from the growing business of society as it developed. Administering justice became so laborious and complicated a duty that it required the undivided attention of the person entrusted with it. The person holding executive power lacked the time to decide private cases himself, so a deputy was appointed to decide them for him. As Roman power grew, the consul was too occupied with the state's political affairs to attend to the administration of justice. A praetor was therefore appointed to administer it in his place. As the European monarchies founded on the ruins of the Roman empire developed, sovereigns and great lords everywhere came to regard administering justice as a task too laborious and too lowly to perform in person. They therefore all freed themselves from it by appointing a deputy, bailiff, or judge.
When judicial and executive power are united, it is hardly possible for justice not to be frequently sacrificed to what is commonly called politics. Those entrusted with the great interests of the state may sometimes imagine, even without corrupt motives, that it is necessary to sacrifice an individual's rights to those interests. But the liberty of every individual, and his sense of his own security, depend on the impartial administration of justice. To make everyone feel completely secure in the possession of every right belonging to him, judicial power must not only be separated from executive power but made as independent of it as possible. A judge should not be removable from office at the whim of the executive. The regular payment of his salary should not depend on its goodwill or even on its sound financial management.
PART III. On the Expense of Public Works and Public Institutions.
The third and last duty of the sovereign or commonwealth is to establish and maintain those public institutions and works which, though they may be of the greatest advantage to a large society, are nevertheless of such a nature that their profits could never repay the cost to an individual or a small number of individuals. One cannot therefore expect any individual or small group to establish or maintain them. Performing this duty also requires very different degrees of expense at different stages of society.
Apart from the public institutions and works necessary to defend society and administer justice, both already discussed, the other works and institutions of this kind serve chiefly to facilitate society's commerce and to promote the instruction of its people. Institutions for instruction are of two kinds: those for the education of youth and those for the instruction of people of all ages. An examination of how the expenses of these different kinds of public works and institutions can most properly be met will divide this third part of the present chapter into three articles.
ARTICLE I.—On Public Works and Institutions for Facilitating Society's Commerce.
First, on those necessary for facilitating commerce in general.
It is evident without proof that establishing and maintaining public works that facilitate a country's commerce, such as good roads, bridges, navigable canals, harbors, etc., must involve very different degrees of expense at different stages of society. The expense of building and maintaining a country's public roads must clearly increase with the annual produce of its land and labor, or with the quantity and weight of goods that must be carried along those roads. A bridge's strength must be suited to the number and weight of vehicles likely to cross it. The depth and water supply of a navigable canal must be proportionate to the number and tonnage of the barges likely to carry goods along it; a harbor's size, to the number of ships likely to seek shelter in it.
It does not seem necessary to meet the cost of these public works from what is commonly called public revenue, whose collection and use are assigned in most countries to executive power. Most such public works can easily be managed so as to provide a dedicated revenue sufficient to meet their own expenses without burdening society's general revenue.
A highway, bridge, or navigable canal, for instance, can in most cases be built and maintained by a small toll on the vehicles that use it; a harbor, by a moderate port duty on the tonnage of ships loading or unloading there. Coinage, another institution facilitating commerce, in many countries not only meets its own expenses but yields a small revenue, or seigniorage, to the sovereign. The post office, another such institution, besides meeting its own expenses, yields a very considerable revenue to the sovereign in almost all countries.
When vehicles crossing a highway or bridge, and barges sailing on a navigable canal, pay tolls proportionate to their weight or tonnage, they pay for the maintenance of these public works exactly in proportion to the wear and tear they cause. It seems hardly possible to devise a more equitable way of maintaining such works. This tax or toll, moreover, though initially paid by the carrier, is ultimately paid by the consumer, who must always be charged for it in the price of the goods. But since the cost of carriage is greatly reduced by such public works, the goods, despite the toll, reach the consumer more cheaply than they otherwise could: the toll raises their price less than cheaper carriage lowers it. The person who ultimately pays this tax therefore gains more from its use than he loses by paying it. His payment is exactly proportionate to his gain. In reality, he is required to surrender only part of that gain in order to enjoy the rest. It seems impossible to imagine a more equitable way of levying a tax. When the toll on luxury vehicles, on coaches, post-chaises, etc., is set somewhat higher in proportion to their weight than on vehicles used for necessities, such as carts, wagons, etc., the idleness and vanity of the rich are made, very easily, to contribute to the relief of the poor by making the transport of heavy goods to every part of the country cheaper.
Book V, Chapter I, 6
18th-century English
When high-roads, bridges, canals, etc. are in this manner made and supported by the commerce which is carried on by means of them, they can be made only where that commerce requires them, and, consequently, where it is proper to make them. Their expense, too, their grandeur and magnificence, must be suited to what that commerce can afford to pay. They must be made, consequently, as it is proper to make them. A magnificent high-road cannot be made through a desert country, where there is little or no commerce, or merely because it happens to lead to the country villa of the intendant of the province, or to that of some great lord, to whom the intendant finds it convenient to make his court. A great bridge cannot be thrown over a river at a place where nobody passes, or merely to embellish the view from the windows of a neighbouring palace; things which sometimes happen in countries, where works of this kind are carried on by any other revenue than that which they themselves are capable of affording.
In several different parts of Europe, the toll or lock-duty upon a canal is the property of private persons, whose private interest obliges them to keep up the canal. If it is not kept in tolerable order, the navigation necessarily ceases altogether, and, along with it, the whole profit which they can make by the tolls. If those tolls were put under the management of commissioners, who had themselves no interest in them, they might be less attentive to the maintenance of the works which produced them. The canal of Languedoc cost the king of France and the province upwards of thirteen millions of livres, which (at twenty-eight livres the mark of silver, the value of French money in the end of the last century) amounted to upwards of nine hundred thousand pounds sterling. When that great work was finished, the most likely method, it was found, of keeping it in constant repair, was to make a present of the tolls to Riquet, the engineer who planned and conducted the work. Those tolls constitute, at present, a very large estate to the different branches of the family of that gentleman, who have, therefore, a great interest to keep the work in constant repair. But had those tolls been put under the management of commissioners, who had no such interest, they might perhaps, have been dissipated in ornamental and unnecessary expenses, while the most essential parts of the works were allowed to go to ruin.
The tolls for the maintenance of a highroad cannot, with any safety, be made the property of private persons. A high-road, though entirely neglected, does not become altogether impassable, though a canal does. The proprietors of the tolls upon a high-road, therefore, might neglect altogether the repair of the road, and yet continue to levy very nearly the same tolls. It is proper, therefore, that the tolls for the maintenance of such a work should be put under the management of commissioners or trustees.
In Great Britain, the abuses which the trustees have committed in the management of those tolls, have, in many cases, been very justly complained of. At many turnpikes, it has been said, the money levied is more than double of what is necessary for executing, in the completest manner, the work, which is often executed in a very slovenly manner, and sometimes not executed at all. The system of repairing the high-roads by tolls of this kind, it must be observed, is not of very long standing. We should not wonder, therefore, if it has not yet been brought to that degree of perfection of which it seems capable. If mean and improper persons are frequently appointed trustees; and if proper courts of inspection and account have not yet been established for controlling their conduct, and for reducing the tolls to what is barely sufficient for executing the work to be done by them; the recency of the institution both accounts and apologizes for those defects, of which, by the wisdom of parliament, the greater part may, in due time, be gradually remedied.
The money levied at the different turnpikes in Great Britain, is supposed to exceed so much what is necessary for repairing the roads, that the savings which, with proper economy, might be made from it, have been considered, even by some ministers, as a very great resource, which might, at some time or another, be applied to the exigencies of the state. Government, it has been said, by taking the management of the turnpikes into its own hands, and by employing the soldiers, who would work for a very small addition to their pay, could keep the roads in good order, at a much less expense than it can be done by trustees, who have no other workmen to employ, but such as derive their whole subsistence from their wages. A great revenue, half a million, perhaps {Since publishing the two first editions of this book, I have got good reasons to believe that all the turnpike tolls levied in Great Britain do not produce a neat revenue that amounts to half a million; a sum which, under the management of government, would not be sufficient to keep in repair five of the principal roads in the kingdom}, it has been pretended, might in this manner be gained, without laying any new burden upon the people; and the turnpike roads might be made to contribute to the general expense of the state, in the same manner as the post-office does at present.
That a considerable revenue might be gained in this manner, I have no doubt, though probably not near so much as the projectors of this plan have supposed. The plan itself, however, seems liable to several very important objections.
First, If the tolls which are levied at the turnpikes should ever be considered as one of the resources for supplying the exigencies of the state, they would certainly be augmented as those exigencies were supposed to require. According to the policy of Great Britain, therefore, they would probably he augmented very fast. The facility with which a great revenue could be drawn from them, would probably encourage administration to recur very frequently te this resource. Though it may, perhaps, be more than doubtful whether half a million could by any economy be saved out of the present tolls, it can scarcely be doubted, but that a million might be saved out of them, if they were doubled; and perhaps two millions, if they were tripled {I have now good reason to believe that all these conjectural sums are by much too large.}. This great revenue, too, might be levied without the appointment of a single new officer to collect and receive it. But the turnpike tolls, being continually augmented in this manner, instead of facilitating the inland commerce of the country, as at present, would soon become a very great incumbrance upon it. The expense of transporting all heavy goods from one part of the country to another, would soon be so much increased, the market for all such goods, consequently, would soon be so much narrowed, that their production would be in a great measure discouraged, and the most important branches of the domestic industry of the country annihilated altogether.
Secondly, A tax upon carriages, in proportion to their weight, though a very equal tax when applied to the sole purpose of repairing the roads, is a very unequal one when applied to any other purpose, or to supply the common exigencies of the state. When it is applied to the sole purpose above mentioned, each carriage is supposed to pay exactly for the wear and tear which that carriage occasions of the roads. But when it is applied to any other purpose, each carriage is supposed to pay for more than that wear and tear, and contributes to the supply of some other exigency of the state. But as the turnpike toll raises the price of goods in proportion to their weight and not to their value, it is chiefly paid by the consumers of coarse and bulky, not by those of precious and light commodities. Whatever exigency of the state, therefore, this tax might be intended to supply, that exigency would be chiefly supplied at the expense of the poor, not of the rich; at the expense of those who are least able to supply it, not of those who are most able.
Thirdly, If government should at any time neglect the reparation of the high-roads, it would be still more difficult, than it is at present, to compel the proper application of any part of the turnpike tolls. A large revenue might thus be levied upon the people, without any part of it being applied to the only purpose to which a revenue levied in this manner ought ever to be applied. If the meanness and poverty of the trustees of turnpike roads render it sometimes difficult, at present, to oblige them to repair their wrong; their wealth and greatness would render it ten times more so in the case which is here supposed.
In France, the funds destined for the reparation of the high-roads are under the immediate direction of the executive power. Those funds consist, partly in a certain number of days labour, which the country people are in most parts of Europe obliged to give to the reparation of the highways; and partly in such a portion of the general revenue of the state as the king chooses to spare from his other expenses.
By the ancient law of France, as well as by that of most other parts of Europe, the labour of the country people was under the direction of a local or provincial magistracy, which had no immediate dependency upon the king’s council. But, by the present practice, both the labour of the country people, and whatever other fund the king may choose to assign for the reparation of the high-roads in any particular province or generality, are entirely under the management of the intendant; an officer who is appointed and removed by the king’s council who receives his orders from it, and is in constant correspondence with it. In the progress of despotism, the authority of the executive power gradually absorbs that of every other power in the state, and assumes to itself the management of every branch of revenue which is destined for any public purpose. In France, however, the great post-roads, the roads which make the communication between the principal towns of the kingdom, are in general kept in good order; and, in some provinces, are even a good deal superior to the greater part of the turnpike roads of England. But what we call the cross roads, that is, the far greater part of the roads in the country, are entirely neglected, and are in many places absolutely impassable for any heavy carriage. In some places it is even dangerous to travel on horseback, and mules are the only conveyance which can safely be trusted. The proud minister of an ostentatious court, may frequently take pleasure in executing a work of splendour and magnificence, such as a great highway, which is frequently seen by the principal nobility, whose applauses not only flatter his vanity, but even contribute to support his interest at court. But to execute a great number of little works, in which nothing that can be done can make any great appearance, or excite the smallest degree of admiration in any traveller, and which, in short, have nothing to recommend them but their extreme utility, is a business which appears, in every respect, too mean and paltry to merit the attention of so great a magistrate. Under such an administration therefore, such works are almost always entirely neglected.
In China, and in several other governments of Asia, the executive power charges itself both with the reparation of the high-roads, and with the maintenance of the navigable canals. In the instructions which are given to the governor of each province, those objects, it is said, are constantly recommended to him, and the judgment which the court forms of his conduct is very much regulated by the attention which he appears to have paid to this part of his instructions. This branch of public police, accordingly, is said to be very much attended to in all those countries, but particularly in China, where the high-roads, and still more the navigable canals, it is pretended, exceed very much every thing of the same kind which is known in Europe. The accounts of those works, however, which have been transmitted to Europe, have generally been drawn up by weak and wondering travellers; frequently by stupid and lying missionaries. If they had been examined by more intelligent eyes, and if the accounts of them had been reported by more faithful witnesses, they would not, perhaps, appear to be so wonderful. The account which Bernier gives of some works of this kind in Indostan, falls very short of what had been reported of them by other travellers, more disposed to the marvellous than he was. It may too, perhaps, be in those countries, as it is in France, where the great roads, the great communications, which are likely to be the subjects of conversation at the court and in the capital, are attended to, and all the rest neglected. In China, besides, in Indostan, and in several other governments of Asia, the revenue of the sovereign arises almost altogether from a land tax or land rent, which rises or falls with the rise and fall of the annual produce of the land. The great interest of the sovereign, therefore, his revenue, is in such countries necessarily and immediately connected with the cultivation of the land, with the greatness of its produce, and with the value of its produce. But in order to render that produce both as great and as valuable as possible, it is necessary to procure to it as extensive a market as possible, and consequently to establish the freest, the easiest, and the least expensive communication between all the different parts of the country; which can be done only by means of the best roads and the best navigable canals. But the revenue of the sovereign does not, in any part of Europe, arise chiefly from a land tax or land rent. In all the great kingdoms of Europe, perhaps, the greater part of it may ultimately depend upon the produce of the land: but that dependency is neither so immediate nor so evident. In Europe, therefore, the sovereign does not feel himself so directly called upon to promote the increase, both in quantity and value of the produce of the land, or, by maintaining good roads and canals, to provide the most extensive market for that produce. Though it should be true, therefore, what I apprehend is not a little doubtful, that in some parts of Asia this department of the public police is very properly managed by the executive power, there is not the least probability that, during the present state of things, it could be tolerably managed by that power in any part of Europe.
Even those public works, which are of such a nature that they cannot afford any revenue for maintaining themselves, but of which the conveniency is nearly confined to some particular place or district, are always better maintained by a local or provincial revenue, under the management of a local and provincial administration, than by the general revenue of the state, of which the executive power must always have the management. Were the streets of London to be lighted and paved at the expense of the treasury, is there any probability that they would be so well lighted and paved as they are at present, or even at so small an expense? The expense, besides, instead of being raised by a local tax upon the inhabitants of each particular street, parish, or district in London, would, in this case, be defrayed out of the general revenue of the state, and would consequently be raised by a tax upon all the inhabitants of the kingdom, of whom the greater part derive no sort of benefit from the lighting and paving of the streets of London.
English
When highways, bridges, canals, and the like are built and maintained in this way by the commerce conducted through them, they can be built only where that commerce requires them, and thus where it is proper to build them. Their cost, too, and their grandeur and magnificence must be suited to what that commerce can afford to pay. They must, accordingly, be built as they ought to be. No magnificent highway can be built through a desert country where there is little or no commerce, merely because it happens to lead to the country villa of the province’s intendant, or to that of some great lord whom the intendant finds it useful to court. No great bridge can be thrown across a river where nobody crosses, merely to embellish the view from the windows of a neighboring palace. Yet such things sometimes happen in countries where works of this kind are financed by revenue other than what they themselves can yield.
In several parts of Europe, a canal’s toll or lock duty belongs to private persons, whose own interest obliges them to maintain the canal. If it is not kept in tolerable condition, navigation stops altogether, and with it all the profit they can make from the tolls. If commissioners with no personal stake in those tolls managed them, they might take less care to maintain the works that generate them. The canal of Languedoc cost the king of France and the province upwards of thirteen millions of livres, which (at twenty-eight livres the mark of silver, the value of French money at the end of the last century) amounted to upwards of nine hundred thousand pounds sterling. When this great work was finished, the likeliest way to keep it in constant repair, it was found, was to grant the tolls to Riquet, the engineer who designed and directed the work. Those tolls now constitute a very large estate for the several branches of that gentleman’s family, who therefore have a strong interest in keeping the work constantly repaired. Had the tolls instead been entrusted to commissioners with no such interest, they might perhaps have been spent on ornamental and unnecessary expenses while the most essential parts of the works fell into ruin.
The tolls intended to maintain a highway cannot safely become private property. A highway, even if entirely neglected, does not become altogether impassable, as a canal does. Owners of highway tolls could therefore neglect repairs altogether and still collect very nearly the same tolls. It is proper, then, to place tolls for maintaining such a work under the management of commissioners or trustees.
In Great Britain, the abuses committed by trustees in managing these tolls have in many instances rightly drawn complaints. At many turnpikes, it has been said, the money collected is more than twice what would be needed to carry out the work as fully as possible, although the work is often done very carelessly and sometimes not done at all. It should be observed that the system of repairing highways through tolls of this kind is not very old. We should not be surprised, therefore, if it has not yet attained the perfection of which it seems capable. If unsuitable persons of little standing are frequently made trustees, and if suitable courts of inspection and account have not yet been established to oversee their conduct and reduce the tolls to no more than is needed for the work they are to undertake, the institution’s recent origin both explains and excuses these defects. The wisdom of parliament may gradually remedy most of them in time.
The money collected at the various turnpikes in Great Britain is thought to exceed the cost of road repairs by so much that the savings possible under careful management have been regarded, even by some ministers, as a great resource that might one day meet the needs of the state. It has been said that government, by taking the turnpikes into its own hands and employing soldiers who would work for a very small addition to their pay, could keep the roads in good condition at much less cost than trustees, who can employ only workers who live entirely on their wages. A great revenue, perhaps half a million [Since publishing the two first editions of this book, I have obtained good reason to believe that all the turnpike tolls collected in Great Britain do not yield a net revenue amounting to half a million; a sum which, under government management, would not suffice to keep five of the kingdom’s principal roads in repair], could supposedly be gained in this way without placing any new burden on the people. Turnpike roads might then contribute to the state’s general expenses as the post office does now.
I have no doubt that considerable revenue could be gained this way, though probably nowhere near as much as the proponents of the plan have supposed. The plan itself, however, appears open to several very serious objections.
First, if the tolls collected at turnpikes ever came to be regarded as a resource for meeting the needs of the state, they would certainly be raised whenever those needs were thought to demand it. Under the policy of Great Britain they would therefore probably rise very quickly. The ease of drawing a large revenue from them would probably encourage the administration to resort to this resource very often. It may be more than doubtful whether any economy could save half a million from the present tolls; but it can scarcely be doubted that a million could be saved from them if they were doubled, and perhaps two millions if they were tripled [I now have good reason to believe that all these conjectural sums are much too large.]. This great revenue, moreover, could be collected without appointing a single new officer to receive it. But as turnpike tolls rose continually in this way, they would soon become a great burden on the country’s inland commerce instead of facilitating it as they do now. The expense of moving all heavy goods from one part of the country to another would soon rise so much, and the market for all such goods would consequently shrink so much, that their production would be largely discouraged and the most important branches of domestic industry extinguished altogether.
Secondly, a tax on carriages proportionate to their weight, though a very equitable tax when devoted solely to road repairs, becomes very unequal when used for any other purpose or to meet the state’s general needs. When used solely for repairs, each carriage is supposed to pay precisely for the wear and tear it causes to the roads. For any other purpose, each carriage is made to pay more than that wear and tear and to contribute toward some other need of the state. But because the turnpike toll raises the price of goods according to their weight rather than their value, it is paid chiefly by consumers of coarse, bulky commodities, not by consumers of precious, light ones. Whatever need of the state the tax was meant to meet, therefore, it would be met chiefly at the expense of the poor rather than the rich: of those least able to pay rather than those most able.
Thirdly, if government ever neglected highway repairs, it would be even harder than it is now to compel the proper use of any portion of the turnpike tolls. A large revenue might thus be collected from the people without any of it being applied to the only purpose for which revenue collected in this way should ever be used. If the trustees’ low standing and poverty now sometimes make it difficult to require them to put right their misconduct, their wealth and power in the case imagined here would make it ten times harder.
In France, the funds set aside for highway repairs are under the direct control of the executive power. Those funds consist partly of a certain number of days of labor which rural people in most parts of Europe are required to devote to repairing highways, and partly of whatever portion of the state’s general revenue the king chooses to spare from his other expenses.
Under the ancient law of France, as under that of most other parts of Europe, the labor of rural people was directed by local or provincial magistrates who were not directly dependent on the king’s council. Under present practice, however, both their labor and any other fund the king chooses to assign to highway repairs in a particular province or generality are managed entirely by the intendant, an officer appointed and dismissed by the king’s council, from which he receives his orders and with which he corresponds continually. As despotism advances, the authority of the executive power gradually absorbs that of every other power in the state and takes charge of every branch of revenue devoted to a public purpose. In France, nevertheless, the great post roads connecting the principal towns of the kingdom are generally kept in good condition and in some provinces are considerably better than most English turnpike roads. But what we call the cross roads—that is, by far the greater part of the country’s roads—are entirely neglected, and in many places are utterly impassable to heavy carriages. In some places even travel on horseback is dangerous, and mules are the only means of transport that can safely be trusted. The proud minister of an ostentatious court may often take pleasure in executing a splendid and magnificent work, such as a great highway frequently seen by the leading nobility, whose applause not only flatters his vanity but helps sustain his standing at court. Yet to undertake a multitude of small works, in which nothing that can be done will make a grand appearance or stir the slightest admiration in any traveler, and which have nothing to recommend them but their extraordinary usefulness, seems in every respect too humble and petty a business for so great a magistrate. Under such an administration, therefore, such works are almost always wholly neglected.
In China and several other governments of Asia, the executive power undertakes both highway repairs and the maintenance of navigable canals. The instructions given to each provincial governor, it is said, consistently urge these matters upon him; the court’s judgment of his conduct depends heavily on how much attention he appears to have given to them. This branch of public administration is therefore said to receive much attention in all these countries, especially in China, where the highways and, still more, the navigable canals are claimed to far surpass anything of the kind known in Europe. The accounts of these works sent to Europe, however, have generally been written by credulous, wonderstruck travelers, often by foolish and dishonest missionaries. Were the works examined by more discerning eyes and described by more trustworthy witnesses, they might not appear so marvelous. Bernier’s account of some such works in Indostan falls far short of the reports of other travelers more inclined to marvel than he. Perhaps, too, the situation in these countries resembles that in France: the great roads and connections likely to be discussed at court and in the capital receive attention, while all the rest are neglected. Besides, in China, Indostan, and several other governments of Asia, the sovereign’s revenue comes almost entirely from a land tax or land rent that rises or falls with the land’s annual produce. The sovereign’s chief interest—his revenue—is therefore necessarily and immediately connected in these countries with cultivating the land and increasing both the quantity and the value of its produce. To make that produce as abundant and valuable as possible, however, one must secure for it the widest possible market, and consequently establish the freest, easiest, and least expensive communication among all parts of the country. Only the best roads and navigable canals can do this. In no part of Europe, by contrast, does the sovereign’s revenue come chiefly from a land tax or land rent. In all the great kingdoms of Europe most of that revenue may ultimately depend on the produce of the land, but the dependence is neither so immediate nor so evident. The European sovereign therefore feels no such direct call to increase both the quantity and value of the land’s produce or to provide the widest market for it by maintaining good roads and canals. Even if it were true—and I think it distinctly doubtful—that the executive power properly manages this branch of public administration in some parts of Asia, there is not the least likelihood that, as things now stand, it could manage it tolerably well anywhere in Europe.
Even public works that cannot earn revenue for their own maintenance, but whose benefits are almost confined to a particular place or district, are always better maintained by local or provincial revenue administered locally or provincially than by the general revenue of the state, which must always be administered by the executive power. If the streets of London were lit and paved at the treasury’s expense, would they be as well lit and paved as they are now, or even at as little cost? Moreover, instead of being raised through a local tax on the inhabitants of each street, parish, or district of London, the expense would then be paid from the state’s general revenue and thus raised by taxing all the kingdom’s inhabitants, most of whom gain no benefit whatever from lighting and paving London’s streets.
Book V, Chapter I, 7
18th-century English
The abuses which sometimes creep into the local and provincial administration of a local and provincial revenue, how enormous soever they may appear, are in reality, however, almost always very trifling in comparison of those which commonly take place in the administration and expenditure of the revenue of a great empire. They are, besides, much more easily corrected. Under the local or provincial administration of the justices of the peace in Great Britain, the six days labour which the country people are obliged to give to the reparation of the highways, is not always, perhaps, very judiciously applied, but it is scarce ever exacted with any circumstance of cruelty or oppression. In France, under the administration of the intendants, the application is not always more judicious, and the exaction is frequently the most cruel and oppressive. Such corvees, as they are called, make one of the principal instruments of tyranny by which those officers chastise any parish or communeaute, which has had the misfortune to fall under their displeasure.
Of the public Works and Institution which are necessary for facilitating particular Branches of Commerce.
The object of the public works and institutions above mentioned, is to facilitate commerce in general. But in order to facilitate some particular branches of it, particular institutions are necessary, which again require a particular and extraordinary expense.
Some particular branches of commerce which are carried on with barbarous and uncivilized nations, require extraordinary protection. An ordinary store or counting-house could give little security to the goods of the merchants who trade to the western coast of Africa. To defend them from the barbarous natives, it is necessary that the place where they are deposited should be in some measure fortified. The disorders in the government of Indostan have been supposed to render a like precaution necessary, even among that mild and gentle people; and it was under pretence of securing their persons and property from violence, that both the English and French East India companies were allowed to erect the first forts which they possessed in that country. Among other nations, whose vigorous government will suffer no strangers to possess any fortified place within their territory, it may be necessary to maintain some ambassador, minister, or consul, who may both decide, according to their own customs, the differences arising among his own countrymen, and, in their disputes with the natives, may by means of his public character, interfere with more authority and afford them a more powerful protection than they could expect from any private man. The interests of commerce have frequently made it necessary to maintain ministers in foreign countries, where the purposes either of war or alliance would not have required any. The commerce of the Turkey company first occasioned the establishment of an ordinary ambassador at Constantinople. The first English embassies to Russia arose altogether from commercial interests. The constant interference with those interests, necessarily occasioned between the subjects of the different states of Europe, has probably introduced the custom of keeping, in all neighbouring countries, ambassadors or ministers constantly resident, even in the time of peace. This custom, unknown to ancient times, seems not to be older than the end of the fifteenth, or beginning of the sixteenth century; that is, than the time when commerce first began to extend itself to the greater part of the nations of Europe, and when they first began to attend to its interests.
It seems not unreasonable, that the extraordinary expense which the protection of any particular branch of commerce may occasion, should be defrayed by a moderate tax upon that particular branch; by a moderate fine, for example, to be paid by the traders when they first enter into it; or, what is more equal, by a particular duty of so much per cent. upon the goods which they either import into, or export out of, the particular countries with which it is carried on. The protection of trade, in general, from pirates and freebooters, is said to have given occasion to the first institution of the duties of customs. But, if it was thought reasonable to lay a general tax upon trade, in order to defray the expense of protecting trade in general, it should seem equally reasonable to lay a particular tax upon a particular branch of trade, in order to defray the extraordinary expense of protecting that branch.
The protection of trade, in general, has always been considered as essential to the defence of the commonwealth, and, upon that account, a necessary part of the duty of the executive power. The collection and application of the general duties of customs, therefore, have always been left to that power. But the protection of any particular branch of trade is a part of the general protection of trade; a part, therefore, of the duty of that power; and if nations always acted consistently, the particular duties levied for the purposes of such particular protection, should always have been left equally to its disposal. But in this respect, as well as in many others, nations have not always acted consistently; and in the greater part of the commercial states of Europe, particular companies of merchants have had the address to persuade the legislature to entrust to them the performance of this part of the duty of the sovereign, together with all the powers which are necessarily connected with it.
These companies, though they may, perhaps, have been useful for the first introduction of some branches of commerce, by making, at their own expense, an experiment which the state might not think it prudent to make, have in the long-run proved, universally, either burdensome or useless, and have either mismanaged or confined the trade.
When those companies do not trade upon a joint stock, but are obliged to admit any person, properly qualified, upon paying a certain fine, and agreeing to submit to the regulations of the company, each member trading upon his own stock, and at his own risk, they are called regulated companies. When they trade upon a joint stock, each member sharing in the common profit or loss, in proportion to his share in this stock, they are called joint-stock companies. Such companies, whether regulated or joint-stock, sometimes have, and sometimes have not, exclusive privileges.
Regulated companies resemble, in every respect, the corporation of trades, so common in the cities and towns of all the different countries of Europe; and are a sort of enlarged monopolies of the same kind. As no inhabitant of a town can exercise an incorporated trade, without first obtaining his freedom in the incorporation, so, in most cases, no subject of the state can lawfully carry on any branch of foreign trade, for which a regulated company is established, without first becoming a member of that company. The monopoly is more or less strict, according as the terms of admission are more or less difficult, and according as the directors of the company have more or less authority, or have it more or less in their power to manage in such a manner as to confine the greater part of the trade to themselves and their particular friends. In the most ancient regulated companies, the privileges of apprenticeship were the same as in other corporations, and entitled the person who had served his time to a member of the company, to become himself a member, either without paying any fine, or upon paying a much smaller one than what was exacted of other people. The usual corporation spirit, wherever the law does not restrain it, prevails in all regulated companies. When they have been allowed to act according to their natural genius, they have always, in order to confine the competition to as small a number of persons as possible, endeavoured to subject the trade to many burdensome regulations. When the law has restrained them from doing this, they have become altogether useless and insignificant.
The regulated companies for foreign commerce which at present subsist in Great Britain, are the ancient merchant-adventurers company, now commonly called the Hamburgh company, the Russia company, the Eastland company, the Turkey company, and the African company.
The terms of admission into the Hamburgh company are now said to be quite easy; and the directors either have it not in their power to subject the trade to any troublesome restraint or regulations, or, at least, have not of late exercised that power. It has not always been so. About the middle of the last century, the fine for admission was fifty, and at one time one hundred pounds, and the conduct of the company was said to be extremely oppressive. In 1643, in 1645, and in 1661, the clothiers and free traders of the west of England complained of them to parliament, as of monopolists, who confined the trade, and oppressed the manufactures of the country. Though those complaints produced no act of parliament, they had probably intimidated the company so far, as to oblige them to reform their conduct. Since that time, at least, there have been no complaints against them. By the 10th and 11th of William III. c.6, the fine for admission into the Russia company was reduced to five pounds; and by the 25th of Charles II. c.7, that for admission into the Eastland company to forty shillings; while, at the same time, Sweden, Denmark, and Norway, all the countries on the north side of the Baltic, were exempted from their exclusive charter. The conduct of those companies had probably given occasion to those two acts of parliament. Before that time, Sir Josiah Child had represented both these and the Hamburgh company as extremely oppressive, and imputed to their bad management the low state of the trade, which we at that time carried on to the countries comprehended within their respective charters. But though such companies may not, in the present times, be very oppressive, they are certainly altogether useless. To be merely useless, indeed, is perhaps, the highest eulogy which can ever justly be bestowed upon a regulated company; and all the three companies above mentioned seem, in their present state, to deserve this eulogy.
The fine for admission into the Turkey company was formerly twenty-five pounds for all persons under twenty-six years of age, and fifty pounds for all persons above that age. Nobody but mere merchants could be admitted; a restriction which excluded all shop-keepers and retailers. By a bye-law, no British manufactures could be exported to Turkey but in the general ships of the company; and as those ships sailed always from the port of London, this restriction confined the trade to that expensive port, and the traders to those who lived in London and in its neighbourhood. By another bye-law, no person living within twenty miles of London, and not free of the city, could be admitted a member; another restriction which, joined to the foregoing, necessarily excluded all but the freemen of London. As the time for the loading and sailing of those general ships depended altogether upon the directors, they could easily fill them with their own goods, and those of their particular friends, to the exclusion of others, who, they might pretend, had made their proposals too late. In this state of things, therefore, this company was, in every respect, a strict and oppressive monopoly. Those abuses gave occasion to the act of the 26th of George II. c. 18, reducing the fine for admission to twenty pounds for all persons, without any distinction of ages, or any restriction, either to mere merchants, or to the freemen of London; and granting to all such persons the liberty of exporting, from all the ports of Great Britain, to any port in Turkey, all British goods, of which the exportation was not prohibited, upon paying both the general duties of customs, and the particular duties assessed for defraying the necessary expenses of the company; and submitting, at the same time, to the lawful authority of the British ambassador and consuls resident in Turkey, and to the bye-laws of the company duly enacted. To prevent any oppression by those bye-laws, it was by the same act ordained, that if any seven members of the company conceived themselves aggrieved by any bye-law which should be enacted after the passing of this act, they might appeal to the board of trade and plantations (to the authority of which a committee of the privy council has now succeeded), provided such appeal was brought within twelve months after the bye-law was enacted; and that, if any seven members conceived themselves aggrieved by any bye-law which had been enacted before the passing of this act, they might bring a like appeal, provided it was within twelve months after the day on which this act was to take place. The experience of one year, however, may not always be sufficient to discover to all the members of a great company the pernicious tendency of a particular bye-law; and if several of them should afterwards discover it, neither the board of trade, nor the committee of council, can afford them any redress. The object, besides, of the greater part of the bye-laws of all regulated companies, as well as of all other corporations, is not so much to oppress those who are already members, as to discourage others from becoming so; which may be done, not only by a high fine, but by many other contrivances. The constant view of such companies is always to raise the rate of their own profit as high as they can; to keep the market, both for the goods which they export, and for those which they import, as much understocked as they can; which can be done only by restraining the competition, or by discouraging new adventurers from entering into the trade. A fine, even of twenty pounds, besides, though it may not, perhaps, be sufficient to discourage any man from entering into the Turkey trade, with an intention to continue in it, may be enough to discourage a speculative merchant from hazarding a single adventure in it. In all trades, the regular established traders, even though not incorporated, naturally combine to raise profits, which are noway so likely to be kept, at all times, down to their proper level, as by the occasional competition of speculative adventurers. The Turkey trade, though in some measure laid open by this act of parliament, is still considered by many people as very far from being altogether free. The Turkey company contribute to maintain an ambassador and two or three consuls, who, like other public ministers, ought to be maintained altogether by the state, and the trade laid open to all his majesty’s subjects. The different taxes levied by the company, for this and other corporation purposes, might afford a revenue much more than sufficient to enable a state to maintain such ministers.
Regulated companies, it was observed by Sir Josiah Child, though they had frequently supported public ministers, had never maintained any forts or garrisons in the countries to which they traded; whereas joint-stock companies frequently had. And, in reality, the former seem to be much more unfit for this sort of service than the latter. First, the directors of a regulated company have no particular interest in the prosperity of the general trade of the company, for the sake of which such forts and garrisons are maintained. The decay of that general trade may even frequently contribute to the advantage of their own private trade; as, by diminishing the number of their competitors, it may enable them both to buy cheaper, and to sell dearer. The directors of a joint-stock company, on the contrary, having only their share in the profits which are made upon the common stock committed to their management, have no private trade of their own, of which the interest can be separated from that of the general trade of the company. Their private interest is connected with the prosperity of the general trade of the company, and with the maintenance of the forts and garrisons which are necessary for its defence. They are more likely, therefore, to have that continual and careful attention which that maintenance necessarily requires. Secondly, The directors of a joint-stock company have always the management of a large capital, the joint stock of the company, a part of which they may frequently employ, with propriety, in building, repairing, and maintaining such necessary forts and garrisons. But the directors of a regulated company, having the management of no common capital, have no other fund to employ in this way, but the casual revenue arising from the admission fines, and from the corporation duties imposed upon the trade of the company. Though they had the same interest, therefore, to attend to the maintenance of such forts and garrisons, they can seldom have the same ability to render that attention effectual. The maintenance of a public minister, requiring scarce any attention, and but a moderate and limited expense, is a business much more suitable both to the temper and abilities of a regulated company.
English
The abuses that sometimes enter the local or provincial management of local or provincial revenue, however enormous they may seem, are in fact almost always trivial beside those commonly found in the management and expenditure of a great empire’s revenue. They are also much easier to correct. Under the local or provincial administration of the justices of the peace in Great Britain, the six days of labor rural people must provide for highway repairs may not always be used very wisely, but they are scarcely ever demanded with cruelty or oppression. In France, under the intendants, the labor is not always used more wisely, and its exaction is often exceedingly cruel and oppressive. These corvées, as they are called, are among the principal instruments of tyranny with which those officers punish any parish or community unfortunate enough to incur their displeasure.
On the Public Works and Institutions Necessary to Facilitate Particular Branches of Commerce.
The public works and institutions mentioned above are intended to facilitate commerce in general. To facilitate certain particular branches of commerce, however, particular institutions are needed, and these in turn require particular and extraordinary expense.
Some branches of commerce conducted with peoples regarded as barbarous and uncivilized require extraordinary protection. An ordinary warehouse or countinghouse could offer little security for the goods of merchants trading on the western coast of Africa. To defend these goods from the inhabitants, the place where they are stored must be fortified to some extent. Disorder in the government of Indostan has been thought to make the same precaution necessary even among that mild and gentle people; it was under the pretext of securing their persons and property against violence that the English and French East India companies were permitted to build their first forts there. In other nations whose vigorous governments allow no foreigner to hold a fortified place within their territory, it may be necessary to maintain an ambassador, minister, or consul. Such an officer can both settle disputes among his own countrymen according to their customs and, in disputes with the inhabitants, intervene with the authority of his public office and give them stronger protection than any private person could. Commercial interests have often made it necessary to maintain ministers abroad where neither war nor alliance would have required them. The Turkey company’s commerce first brought about the appointment of a permanent ambassador at Constantinople. The first English embassies to Russia arose entirely from commercial interests. The continual interference with those interests that inevitably occurred among subjects of the different European states probably introduced the custom of keeping ambassadors or ministers permanently resident in all neighboring countries, even in peacetime. Unknown in antiquity, this custom seems no older than the end of the fifteenth or the beginning of the sixteenth century: the time when commerce first began to spread among most European nations and they first began to attend to its interests.
It seems reasonable that the extraordinary cost of protecting a particular branch of commerce should be met by a moderate tax on that branch: for instance, a moderate fee paid by traders when they first enter it; or, more equitably, a particular duty of so much per cent. on the goods they import into, or export from, the countries with which they trade. Protection of trade in general from pirates and marauders is said to have given rise to customs duties in the first place. But if a general tax on trade was thought reasonable to meet the cost of protecting trade as a whole, a particular tax on a particular branch seems equally reasonable to meet the extraordinary cost of protecting that branch.
The protection of trade in general has always been considered essential to the defense of the commonwealth and therefore a necessary duty of the executive power. The collection and use of general customs duties have consequently always been left to that power. But protecting a particular branch of trade is part of protecting trade in general, and therefore part of that power’s duty. If nations always acted consistently, the particular duties levied to provide that particular protection would also always have been left at its disposal. In this, as in many other matters, nations have not always been consistent; in most commercial states of Europe, particular companies of merchants have contrived to persuade the legislature to entrust them with this part of the sovereign’s duty and all the powers necessarily attached to it.
These companies may perhaps have helped to introduce some branches of commerce by undertaking at their own expense an experiment the state might have judged it imprudent to undertake. In the long run, however, they have universally proved burdensome or useless, and have either mismanaged or restricted the trade.
When such companies do not trade with a joint stock, but must admit anyone properly qualified who pays a certain fee and agrees to obey their rules, with each member trading on his own stock and at his own risk, they are called regulated companies. When they trade with a joint stock and each member shares in the common profit or loss according to his share of it, they are called joint-stock companies. Companies of either kind sometimes have exclusive privileges and sometimes do not.
Regulated companies resemble in every respect the trade corporations so common in the cities and towns of the various European countries; they are enlarged monopolies of the same kind. Just as no resident of a town can practice a trade governed by a corporation without first obtaining membership in it, so in most cases no subject of a state can lawfully engage in a branch of foreign trade governed by a regulated company without first becoming its member. The monopoly is more or less strict according to how difficult admission is and how much authority the directors have—or how much scope they have to conduct affairs so as to reserve most of the trade for themselves and their particular friends. In the oldest regulated companies, apprenticeship brought the same privileges as in other corporations: a person who had served his time under a member could become a member himself, either without a fee or on payment of a much smaller one than others were charged. The customary corporate spirit prevails in every regulated company wherever the law does not restrain it. Left to their natural inclinations, these companies have always tried to confine competition to the fewest possible people by imposing many burdensome rules on the trade. When the law has stopped them doing so, they have become wholly useless and insignificant.
The regulated companies for foreign commerce now existing in Great Britain are the ancient merchant-adventurers company, now commonly called the Hamburgh company, the Russia company, the Eastland company, the Turkey company, and the African company.
Admission to the Hamburgh company is now said to be quite easy; its directors either lack the power to burden the trade with troublesome restraints or regulations or, at least, have not recently used that power. This was not always so. Around the middle of the last century, the admission fee was fifty pounds, and at one point one hundred pounds, and the company’s conduct was said to be extremely oppressive. In 1643, in 1645, and in 1661, the clothiers and independent traders of western England complained to parliament that the company was monopolizing the trade and oppressing the country’s manufacturers. Though these complaints produced no act of parliament, they probably frightened the company into reforming its conduct. Since then, at least, there have been no complaints against it. By the 10th and 11th of William III. c.6, the admission fee for the Russia company was reduced to five pounds; by the 25th of Charles II. c.7, the Eastland company’s was reduced to forty shillings. At the same time Sweden, Denmark, and Norway—all the countries along the north side of the Baltic—were released from its exclusive charter. The conduct of these companies probably prompted the two acts of parliament. Earlier, Sir Josiah Child had described both companies and the Hamburgh company as extremely oppressive, and had blamed their bad management for the poor state of our trade with the countries covered by their respective charters. But although such companies may not be very oppressive today, they are certainly entirely useless. Indeed, mere uselessness is perhaps the highest praise that can ever justly be given to a regulated company; and all three companies just mentioned seem in their present state to deserve it.
Admission to the Turkey company formerly cost twenty-five pounds for anyone under twenty-six years of age and fifty pounds for anyone older. Only merchants as such could join, a restriction that excluded shopkeepers and retailers. A bylaw prohibited the export of British manufactures to Turkey except aboard the company’s general ships. Since those ships always sailed from London, this rule confined the trade to that costly port and to traders living in or near London. Another bylaw excluded from membership anyone living within twenty miles of London who was not a freeman of the city; combined with the first, this necessarily excluded everyone except London freemen. Since the directors alone decided when the general ships would be loaded and would sail, they could easily fill them with their own goods and those of their particular friends, excluding others on the pretext that their applications had come too late. In this condition the company was in every respect a strict and oppressive monopoly. These abuses prompted the act of the 26th of George II. c. 18, which reduced the admission fee to twenty pounds for everyone, without distinctions of age or restrictions either to merchants as such or to freemen of London. It also allowed all such persons to export from any British port to any Turkish port any British goods whose export was not forbidden, provided they paid both the general customs duties and the particular duties imposed to meet the company’s necessary expenses, and obeyed the lawful authority of the British ambassador and consuls resident in Turkey and the company’s duly enacted bylaws. To prevent oppression through these bylaws, the same act provided that any seven members who felt aggrieved by a bylaw enacted after the act’s passage might appeal to the board of trade and plantations (whose authority a committee of the privy council has now inherited), so long as they appealed within twelve months of the bylaw’s enactment. If any seven members felt aggrieved by a bylaw enacted before the act’s passage, they could make the same appeal within twelve months of the date the act was to take effect. A year’s experience, however, may not always be enough to reveal to all the members of a large company the harmful tendency of a particular bylaw; if several discover it afterward, neither the board of trade nor the council committee can give them any remedy. Besides, most bylaws of regulated companies, like those of other corporations, aim less to oppress existing members than to deter others from joining, something that can be achieved through many devices besides a high admission fee. These companies constantly seek to raise their own rate of profit as high as possible and to keep the market as short of both their exports and their imports as possible. They can do this only by restricting competition or discouraging new adventurers from entering the trade. Even a fee of twenty pounds, though perhaps not enough to deter a man who intends to trade regularly with Turkey, may deter a speculative merchant from risking a single venture there. In every trade, the established traders naturally combine to raise profits even if they are not incorporated; nothing is so likely to keep those profits at their proper level at all times as occasional competition from speculative adventurers. Though this act of parliament opened the Turkey trade to some degree, many still regard it as far from entirely free. The Turkey company contributes to maintaining an ambassador and two or three consuls. Like other public ministers, these officers ought to be maintained entirely by the state, and the trade opened to all his majesty’s subjects. The various taxes imposed by the company for this and its other corporate purposes could provide far more than enough revenue for a state to maintain such ministers.
Sir Josiah Child observed that regulated companies, although they had often supported public ministers, had never maintained forts or garrisons in the countries with which they traded, whereas joint-stock companies often had. Regulated companies do indeed seem much less suited to this service than joint-stock companies. First, the directors of a regulated company have no particular interest in the prosperity of the company’s general trade, for whose sake the forts and garrisons are maintained. The decline of that general trade can often benefit their own private trade: fewer competitors may allow them both to buy more cheaply and to sell more dearly. Directors of a joint-stock company, by contrast, have only their share of the profits from the common stock entrusted to their management; they have no private trade whose interests can diverge from those of the company’s general trade. Their private interest is tied to the prosperity of that general trade and to maintaining the forts and garrisons necessary for its defense. They are thus more likely to give their maintenance the constant, careful attention it requires. Secondly, directors of a joint-stock company always manage a large capital—the company’s joint stock—part of which they can often properly spend on building, repairing, and maintaining the necessary forts and garrisons. Directors of a regulated company, by contrast, manage no common capital. They have no fund for this purpose except the incidental revenue from admission fees and corporate duties imposed on the company’s trade. Even if they had the same interest in maintaining forts and garrisons, therefore, they would seldom have the same ability to make their attention effective. Maintaining a public minister requires little attention and only a moderate, limited expense, and is much better suited to both the disposition and the means of a regulated company.
Book V, Chapter I, 8
18th-century English
Long after the time of Sir Josiah Child, however, in 1750, a regulated company was established, the present company of merchants trading to Africa; which was expressly charged at first with the maintenance of all the British forts and garrisons that lie between Cape Blanc and the Cape of Good Hope, and afterwards with that of those only which lie between Cape Rouge and the Cape of Good Hope. The act which establishes this company (the 23rd of George II. c.51 ), seems to have had two distinct objects in view; first, to restrain effectually the oppressive and monopolizing spirit which is natural to the directors of a regulated company; and, secondly, to force them, as much as possible, to give an attention, which is not natural to them, towards the maintenance of forts and garrisons.
For the first of these purposes, the fine for admission is limited to forty shillings. The company is prohibited from trading in their corporate capacity, or upon a joint stock; from borrowing money upon common seal, or from laying any restraints upon the trade, which may be carried on freely from all places, and by all persons being British subjects, and paying the fine. The government is in a committee of nine persons, who meet at London, but who are chosen annually by the freemen of the company at London, Bristol, and Liverpool; three from each place. No committeeman can be continued in office for more than three years together. Any committee-man might be removed by the board of trade and plantations, now by a committee of council, after being heard in his own defence. The committee are forbid to export negroes from Africa, or to import any African goods into Great Britain. But as they are charged with the maintenance of forts and garrisons, they may, for that purpose export from Great Britain to Africa goods and stores of different kinds. Out of the moneys which they shall receive from the company, they are allowed a sum, not exceeding eight hundred pounds, for the salaries of their clerks and agents at London, Bristol, and Liverpool, the house-rent of their offices at London, and all other expenses of management, commission, and agency, in England. What remains of this sum, after defraying these different expenses, they may divide among themselves, as compensation for their trouble, in what manner they think proper. By this constitution, it might have been expected, that the spirit of monopoly would have been effectually restrained, and the first of these purposes sufficiently answered. It would seem, however, that it had not. Though by the 4th of George III. c.20, the fort of Senegal, with all its dependencies, had been invested in the company of merchants trading to Africa, yet, in the year following (by the 5th of George III. c.44), not only Senegal and its dependencies, but the whole coast, from the port of Sallee, in South Barbary, to Cape Rouge, was exempted from the jurisdiction of that company, was vested in the crown, and the trade to it declared free to all his majesty’s subjects. The company had been suspected of restraining the trade and of establishing some sort of improper monopoly. It is not, however, very easy to conceive how, under the regulations of the 23d George II. they could do so. In the printed debates of the house of commons, not always the most authentic records of truth, I observe, however, that they have been accused of this. The members of the committee of nine being all merchants, and the governors and factors in their different forts and settlements being all dependent upon them, it is not unlikely that the latter might have given peculiar attention to the consignments and commissions of the former, which would establish a real monopoly.
For the second of these purposes, the maintenance of the forts and garrisons, an annual sum has been allotted to them by parliament, generally about £13,000. For the proper application of this sum, the committee is obliged to account annually to the cursitor baron of exchequer; which account is afterwards to be laid before parliament. But parliament, which gives so little attention to the application of millions, is not likely to give much to that of £13,000 a-year; and the cursitor baron of exchequer, from his profession and education, is not likely to be profoundly skilled in the proper expense of forts and garrisons. The captains of his majesty’s navy, indeed, or any other commissioned officers, appointed by the board of admiralty, may inquire into the condition of the forts and garrisons, and report their observations to that board. But that board seems to have no direct jurisdiction over the committee, nor any authority to correct those whose conduct it may thus inquire into; and the captains of his majesty’s navy, besides, are not supposed to be always deeply learned in the science of fortification. Removal from an office, which can be enjoyed only for the term of three years, and of which the lawful emoluments, even during that term, are so very small, seems to be the utmost punishment to which any committee-man is liable, for any fault, except direct malversation, or embezzlement, either of the public money, or of that of the company; and the fear of the punishment can never be a motive of sufficient weight to force a continual and careful attention to a business to which he has no other interest to attend. The committee are accused of having sent out bricks and stones from England for the reparation of Cape Coast Castle, on the coast of Guinea; a business for which parliament had several times granted an extraordinary sum of money. These bricks and stones, too, which had thus been sent upon so long a voyage, were said to have been of so bad a quality, that it was necessary to rebuild, from the foundation, the walls which had been repaired with them. The forts and garrisons which lie north of Cape Rouge, are not only maintained at the expense of the state, but are under the immediate government of the executive power; and why those which lie south of that cape, and which, too, are, in part at least, maintained at the expense of the state, should be under a different government, it seems not very easy even to imagine a good reason. The protection of the Mediterranean trade was the original purpose or pretence of the garrisons of Gibraltar and Minorca; and the maintenance and government of those garrisons have always been, very properly, committed, not to the Turkey company, but to the executive power. In the extent of its dominion consists, in a great measure, the pride and dignity of that power; and it is not very likely to fail in attention to what is necessary for the defence of that dominion. The garrisons at Gibraltar and Minorca, accordingly, have never been neglected. Though Minorca has been twice taken, and is now probably lost for ever, that disaster has never been imputed to any neglect in the executive power. I would not, however, be understood to insinuate, that either of those expensive garrisons was ever, even in the smallest degree, necessary for the purpose for which they were originally dismembered from the Spanish monarchy. That dismemberment, perhaps, never served any other real purpose than to alienate from England her natural ally the king of Spain, and to unite the two principal branches of the house of Bourbon in a much stricter and more permanent alliance than the ties of blood could ever have united them.
Joint-stock companies, established either by royal charter, or by act of parliament, are different in several respects, not only from regulated companies, but from private copartneries.
First, In a private copartnery, no partner without the consent of the company, can transfer his share to another person, or introduce a new member into the company. Each member, however, may, upon proper warning, withdraw from the copartnery, and demand payment from them of his share of the common stock. In a joint-stock company, on the contrary, no member can demand payment of his share from the company; but each member can, without their consent, transfer his share to another person, and thereby introduce a new member. The value of a share in a joint stock is always the price which it will bring in the market; and this may be either greater or less in any proportion, than the sum which its owner stands credited for in the stock of the company.
Secondly, In a private copartnery, each partner is bound for the debts contracted by the company, to the whole extent of his fortune. In a joint-stock company, on the contrary, each partner is bound only to the extent of his share.
The trade of a joint-stock company is always managed by a court of directors. This court, indeed, is frequently subject, in many respects, to the control of a general court of proprietors. But the greater part of these proprietors seldom pretend to understand any thing of the business of the company; and when the spirit of faction happens not to prevail among them, give themselves no trouble about it, but receive contentedly such halfyearly or yearly dividend as the directors think proper to make to them. This total exemption front trouble and front risk, beyond a limited sum, encourages many people to become adventurers in joint-stock companies, who would, upon no account, hazard their fortunes in any private copartnery. Such companies, therefore, commonly draw to themselves much greater stocks, than any private copartnery can boast of. The trading stock of the South Sea company at one time amounted to upwards of thirty-three millions eight hundred thousand pounds. The divided capital of the Bank of England amounts, at present, to ten millions seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds. The directors of such companies, however, being the managers rather of other people’s money than of their own, it cannot well be expected that they should watch over it with the same anxious vigilance with which the partners in a private copartnery frequently watch over their own. Like the stewards of a rich man, they are apt to consider attention to small matters as not for their master’s honour, and very easily give themselves a dispensation from having it. Negligence and profusion, therefore, must always prevail, more or less, in the management of the affairs of such a company. It is upon this account, that joint-stock companies for foreign trade have seldom been able to maintain the competition against private adventurers. They have, accordingly, very seldom succeeded without an exclusive privilege; and frequently have not succeeded with one. Without an exclusive privilege, they have commonly mismanaged the trade. With an exclusive privilege, they have both mismanaged and confined it.
The Royal African company, the predecessors of the present African company, had an exclusive privilege by charter; but as that charter had not been confirmed by act of parliament, the trade, in consequence of the declaration of rights, was, soon after the Revolution, laid open to all his majesty’s subjects. The Hudson’s Bay company are, as to their legal rights, in the same situation as the Royal African company. Their exclusive charter has not been confirmed by act of parliament. The South Sea company, as long as they continued to be a trading company, had an exclusive privilege confirmed by act of parliament; as have likewise the present united company of merchants trading to the East Indies.
The Royal African company soon found that they could not maintain the competition against private adventurers, whom, notwithstanding the declaration of rights, they continued for some time to call interlopers, and to persecute as such. In 1698, however, the private adventurers were subjected to a duty of ten per cent. upon almost all the different branches of their trade, to be employed by the company in the maintenance of their forts and garrisons. But, notwithstanding this heavy tax, the company were still unable to maintain the competition. Their stock and credit gradually declined. In 1712, their debts had become so great, that a particular act of parliament was thought necessary, both for their security and for that of their creditors. It was enacted, that the resolution of two-thirds of these creditors in number and value should bind the rust, both with regard to the time which should be allowed to the company for the payment of their debts, and with regard to any other agreement which it might be thought proper to make with them concerning those debts. In 1730, their affairs were in so great disorder, that they were altogether incapable of maintaining their forts and garrisons, the sole purpose and pretext of their institution. From that year till their final dissolution, the parliament judged it necessary to allow the annual sum of £10,000 for that purpose. In 1732, after having been for many years losers by the trade of carrying negroes to the West Indies, they at last resolved to give it up altogether; to sell to the private traders to America the negroes which they purchased upon the coast; and to employ their servants in a trade to the inland parts of Africa for gold dust, elephants teeth, dyeing drugs, etc. But their success in this more confined trade was not greater than in their former extensive one. Their affairs continued to go gradually to decline, till at last, being in every respect a bankrupt company, they were dissolved by act of parliament, and their forts and garrisons vested in the present regulated company of merchants trading to Africa. Before the erection of the Royal African company, there had been three other joint-stock companies successively established, one after another, for the African trade. They were all equally unsuccessful. They all, however, had exclusive charters, which, though not confirmed by act of parliament, were in those days supposed to convey a real exclusive privilege.
The Hudson’s Bay company, before their misfortunes in the late war, had been much more fortunate than the Royal African company. Their necessary expense is much smaller. The whole number of people whom they maintain in their different settlements and habitations, which they have honoured with the name of forts, is said not to exceed a hundred and twenty persons. This number, however, is sufficient to prepare beforehand the cargo of furs and other goods necessary for loading their ships, which, on account of the ice, can seldom remain above six or eight weeks in those seas. This advantage of having a cargo ready prepared, could not, for several years, be acquired by private adventurers; and without it there seems to be no possibility of trading to Hudson’s Bay. The moderate capital of the company, which, it is said, does not exceed one hundred and ten thousand pounds, may, besides, be sufficient to enable them to engross the whole, or almost the whole trade and surplus produce, of the miserable though extensive country comprehended within their charter. No private adventurers, accordingly, have ever attempted to trade to that country in competition with them. This company, therefore, have always enjoyed an exclusive trade, in fact, though they may have no right to it in law. Over and above all this, the moderate capital of this company is said to be divided among a very small number of proprietors. But a joint-stock company, consisting of a small number of proprietors, with a moderate capital, approaches very nearly to the nature of a private copartnery, and may be capable of nearly the same degree of vigilance and attention. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, if, in consequence of these different advantages, the Hudson’s Bay company had, before the late war, been able to carry on their trade with a considerable degree of success. It does not seem probable, however, that their profits ever approached to what the late Mr Dobbs imagined them. A much more sober and judicious writer, Mr Anderson, author of the Historical and Chronological Deduction of Commerce, very justly observes, that upon examining the accounts which Mr Dobbs himself has given for several years together, of their exports and imports, and upon making proper allowances for their extraordinary risk and expense, it does not appear that their profits deserve to be envied, or that they can much, if at all, exceed the ordinary profits of trade.
English
Long after Sir Josiah Child’s time, however, in 1750, a regulated company was established: the present company of merchants trading to Africa. It was explicitly charged at first with maintaining all the British forts and garrisons between Cape Blanc and the Cape of Good Hope, and afterward only those between Cape Rouge and the Cape of Good Hope. The act establishing this company (the 23rd of George II. c.51 ) seems to have pursued two distinct aims: first, to restrain effectively the oppressive, monopolizing spirit natural to the directors of a regulated company; and secondly, to compel them as far as possible to give the maintenance of forts and garrisons the attention that does not come naturally to them.
To achieve the first aim, the fee for admission is limited to forty shillings. The company is forbidden to trade as a corporate body or with a joint stock, to borrow money under its common seal, or to impose any restraints on the trade, which may be conducted freely from all places by any British subjects who pay the fee. Its administration belongs to a committee of nine who meet in London but are elected annually by the company’s freemen in London, Bristol, and Liverpool, three from each city. No committeeman may serve more than three consecutive years. Any committeeman could be removed by the board of trade and plantations, and now by a committee of the council, after being heard in his own defense. The committee is forbidden to export enslaved people from Africa or import any African goods into Great Britain. Since it is responsible for maintaining forts and garrisons, however, it may export goods and supplies of various kinds from Great Britain to Africa for that purpose. From the money received from the company, the committee is allowed a sum not exceeding eight hundred pounds to pay its clerks and agents in London, Bristol, and Liverpool, rent for its London offices, and all other costs of management, commission, and agency in England. Whatever remains of this sum after those expenses may be divided among the committee members as compensation for their trouble, in whatever way they see fit. Under this constitution, one might have expected the spirit of monopoly to be effectively restrained and the first aim sufficiently achieved. It appears, however, that it was not. Although the 4th of George III. c.20 vested the fort of Senegal and all its dependencies in the company of merchants trading to Africa, the following year (by the 5th of George III. c.44) not only Senegal and its dependencies but the entire coast from the port of Sallee, in South Barbary, to Cape Rouge was removed from the company’s jurisdiction, vested in the crown, and declared open to trade by all his majesty’s subjects. The company had been suspected of restricting the trade and establishing some kind of improper monopoly. It is not easy, however, to see how it could have done so under the regulations of the 23d George II. Yet I find it accused of this in the printed debates of the house of commons, records that are not always the most reliable witnesses to truth. All nine members of the committee were merchants, and the governors and factors at the various forts and settlements depended on them. It is thus quite possible that the latter gave special attention to the former’s consignments and commissions, establishing a real monopoly.
For the second aim, maintaining forts and garrisons, parliament has allotted the company an annual sum, generally about £13,000. To account for the proper use of this sum, the committee must report annually to the cursitor baron of exchequer, and the account must then be laid before parliament. But parliament, which pays so little attention to how millions are spent, is unlikely to give much attention to £13,000 a year; and the cursitor baron of exchequer is unlikely, by profession or training, to have a deep knowledge of the proper cost of forts and garrisons. Captains of his majesty’s navy, or other commissioned officers appointed by the board of admiralty, may indeed inspect the condition of the forts and garrisons and report their findings to that board. Yet the board appears to have no direct authority over the committee or power to correct the conduct it may investigate; and naval captains, moreover, are not supposed always to be deeply versed in the science of fortification. Dismissal from an office held for no more than three years and yielding so little lawful reward even during that time seems the harshest punishment a committeeman faces for any fault short of actual misconduct or embezzlement of public or company money. Fear of dismissal can never be a strong enough motive to compel constant, careful attention to a business in which he has no other interest. The committee has been accused of sending bricks and stones from England to repair Cape Coast Castle, on the coast of Guinea, a project for which parliament had several times granted an extraordinary sum. These bricks and stones, after so long a voyage, were reportedly of such poor quality that the walls repaired with them had to be rebuilt from their foundations. The forts and garrisons north of Cape Rouge are not only maintained at the state’s expense but governed directly by the executive power. It is hard even to imagine a good reason why those south of the cape, also maintained at least in part at the state’s expense, should be governed differently. Protection of the Mediterranean trade was the original purpose, or pretext, for the garrisons of Gibraltar and Minorca, and their maintenance and governance have always properly been entrusted not to the Turkey company but to the executive power. The extent of its dominion is a principal source of that power’s pride and dignity; it is unlikely to neglect what the defense of that dominion requires. Accordingly, the garrisons at Gibraltar and Minorca have never been neglected. Although Minorca has been taken twice and is now probably lost forever, no one has attributed that disaster to neglect by the executive power. I do not, however, mean to suggest that either costly garrison was ever necessary, even in the slightest degree, for the purpose for which they were originally severed from the Spanish monarchy. That severance may have served no real purpose other than to alienate England’s natural ally, the king of Spain, and unite the two principal branches of the house of Bourbon in a far closer and more lasting alliance than blood ties could ever have forged.
Joint-stock companies established by royal charter or act of parliament differ in several respects not only from regulated companies but also from private partnerships.
First, in a private partnership no partner can transfer his share to someone else or bring a new member into the partnership without the others’ consent. Each member may, however, give proper notice, leave the partnership, and demand payment of his share of the common stock. In a joint-stock company, by contrast, no member can demand payment of his share from the company, but each may transfer it to another person without the company’s consent, bringing in a new member. A share in a joint stock is always worth whatever price it will fetch in the market; that price may be greater or less, in any proportion, than the sum credited to its owner on the company’s books.
Secondly, in a private partnership each partner is liable for debts contracted by the firm to the full extent of his fortune. In a joint-stock company, by contrast, each partner’s liability extends only to the value of his share.
The trade of a joint-stock company is always managed by a board of directors. That board is often subject in many respects to the control of a general meeting of proprietors. Most proprietors, however, seldom claim to understand anything about the company’s business; when they are not stirred by faction, they take no trouble over it, but contentedly receive whatever half-yearly or yearly dividend the directors choose to pay them. This complete freedom from trouble and from risk beyond a limited sum encourages many people to invest in joint-stock companies who would never risk their fortunes in a private partnership. Such companies therefore commonly attract much greater stocks than any private partnership can claim. The South Sea company’s trading stock at one time amounted to upwards of thirty-three millions eight hundred thousand pounds. The divided capital of the Bank of England at present amounts to ten millions seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds. Yet directors of such companies manage other people’s money rather than their own; one can hardly expect them to guard it with the anxious vigilance with which partners in a private firm often guard their own. Like the stewards of a rich man, they are inclined to think attention to small matters beneath their master’s honor and readily excuse themselves from it. Negligence and extravagance must therefore always prevail to some degree in managing such a company’s affairs. For this reason joint-stock companies trading abroad have seldom been able to compete with private adventurers. Accordingly, they have very seldom succeeded without an exclusive privilege and often have failed even with one. Without an exclusive privilege they have generally mismanaged the trade; with one they have both mismanaged and restricted it.
The Royal African company, predecessors of the present African company, had an exclusive privilege by charter. But because the charter had not been confirmed by act of parliament, the trade was opened to all his majesty’s subjects soon after the Revolution, under the declaration of rights. In their legal rights the Hudson’s Bay company stand in the same position as the Royal African company: their exclusive charter has not been confirmed by act of parliament. The South Sea company, for as long as it continued trading, had an exclusive privilege confirmed by act of parliament, as does the present united company of merchants trading to the East Indies.
The Royal African company soon discovered that it could not compete with private adventurers, whom, despite the declaration of rights, it continued for a while to call interlopers and persecute as such. In 1698, however, the private adventurers were made to pay a duty of ten per cent. on almost all the various branches of their trade, to be used by the company to maintain its forts and garrisons. Even with this heavy tax the company could not compete. Its stock and credit gradually declined. By 1712 its debts had grown so large that a special act of parliament was thought necessary to protect both the company and its creditors. The act provided that a decision made by two-thirds of those creditors in both number and value would bind the rest, both as to how much time the company would have to pay its debts and as to any other agreement deemed appropriate concerning those debts. By 1730 its affairs were in such disorder that it was utterly incapable of maintaining its forts and garrisons, the sole purpose and pretext of its establishment. From that year until its final dissolution parliament considered it necessary to grant an annual sum of £10,000 for that purpose. In 1732, after losing money for many years in the trade of carrying enslaved people to the West Indies, the company at last decided to abandon it entirely: it would sell the people it purchased on the coast to private traders bound for America, and employ its servants in trading with the interior of Africa for gold dust, elephants’ teeth, dyeing materials, etc. But it was no more successful in this narrower trade than in its earlier, more extensive one. Its affairs continued gradually to decline until, bankrupt in every respect, it was dissolved by act of parliament and its forts and garrisons vested in the present regulated company of merchants trading to Africa. Before the Royal African company was founded, three other joint-stock companies had been established in succession for the African trade. All were equally unsuccessful. All, however, held exclusive charters which, though not confirmed by act of parliament, were then supposed to convey a genuine exclusive privilege.
Before its misfortunes in the late war, the Hudson’s Bay company had been much more fortunate than the Royal African company. Its necessary expenses are far smaller. The total number of people it maintains in its various settlements and dwellings, which it has honored with the name of forts, is said to be no more than a hundred and twenty. That number, however, is enough to prepare in advance the cargo of furs and other goods needed to load its ships, which because of the ice can seldom remain in those seas for more than six or eight weeks. Private adventurers could not acquire this advantage of a prepared cargo for several years; without it, trade with Hudson’s Bay appears impossible. The company’s moderate capital, said not to exceed one hundred and ten thousand pounds, may moreover be sufficient to monopolize the whole, or almost the whole, trade and surplus produce of the poor but extensive country covered by its charter. No private adventurers, accordingly, have ever tried to trade there in competition with it. The company has therefore always enjoyed exclusive trade in fact, though it may have no legal right to it. Moreover, its moderate capital is said to be divided among a very small number of proprietors. A joint-stock company with few proprietors and moderate capital comes very close to a private partnership and may exercise nearly the same vigilance and care. It is no surprise, then, that these several advantages enabled the Hudson’s Bay company to trade with considerable success before the late war. It does not seem likely, however, that its profits ever approached the level imagined by the late Mr Dobbs. Mr Anderson, the author of the Historical and Chronological Deduction of Commerce and a much more sober and discerning writer, rightly observes that if one examines Mr Dobbs’s own accounts of the company’s exports and imports over several years and makes due allowance for its extraordinary risks and expenses, its profits appear neither enviable nor much, if at all, above the ordinary profits of trade.
Book V, Chapter I, 9
18th-century English
The South Sea company never had any forts or garrisons to maintain, and therefore were entirely exempted from one great expense, to which other joint-stock companies for foreign trade are subject; but they had an immense capital divided among an immense number of proprietors. It was naturally to be expected, therefore, that folly, negligence, and profusion, should prevail in the whole management of their affairs. The knavery and extravagance of their stock-jobbing projects are sufficiently known, and the explication of them would be foreign to the present subject. Their mercantile projects were not much better conducted. The first trade which they engaged in, was that of supplying the Spanish West Indies with negroes, of which (in consequence of what was called the Assiento Contract granted them by the treaty of Utrecht) they had the exclusive privilege. But as it was not expected that much profit could be made by this trade, both the Portuguese and French companies, who had enjoyed it upon the same terms before them, having been ruined by it, they were allowed, as compensation, to send annually a ship of a certain burden, to trade directly to the Spanish West Indies. Of the ten voyages which this annual ship was allowed to make, they are said to have gained considerably by one, that of the Royal Caroline, in 1731; and to have been losers, more or less, by almost all the rest. Their ill success was imputed, by their factors and agents, to the extortion and oppression of the Spanish government; but was, perhaps, principally owing to the profusion and depredations of those very factors and agents; some of whom are said to have acquired great fortunes, even in one year. In 1734, the company petitioned the king, that they might be allowed to dispose of the trade and tonnage of their annual ship, on account of the little profit which they made by it, and to accept of such equivalent as they could obtain from the king of Spain.
In 1724, this company had undertaken the whale fishery. Of this, indeed, they had no monopoly; but as long as they carried it on, no other British subjects appear to have engaged in it. Of the eight voyages which their ships made to Greenland, they were gainers by one, and losers by all the rest. After their eighth and last voyage, when they had sold their ships, stores, and utensils, they found that their whole loss upon this branch, capital and interest included, amounted to upwards of £237,000.
In 1722, this company petitioned the parliament to be allowed to divide their immense capital of more than thirty-three millions eight hundred thousand pounds, the whole of which had been lent to government, into two equal parts; the one half, or upwards of £16,900,000, to be put upon the same footing with other government annuities, and not to be subject to the debts contracted, or losses incurred, by the directors of the company, in the prosecution of their mercantile projects; the other half to remain as before, a trading stock, and to be subject to those debts and losses. The petition was too reasonable not to be granted. In 1733, they again petitioned the parliament, that three-fourths of their trading stock might be turned into annuity stock, and only one-fourth remain as trading stock, or exposed to the hazards arising from the bad management of their directors. Both their annuity and trading stocks had, by this time, been reduced more than two millions each, by several different payments from government; so that this fourth amounted only to £3,662,784:8:6. In 1748, all the demands of the company upon the king of Spain, in consequence of the assiento contract, were, by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, given up for what was supposed an equivalent. An end was put to their trade with the Spanish West Indies; the remainder of their trading stock was turned into an annuity stock; and the company ceased, in every respect, to be a trading company.
It ought to be observed, that in the trade which the South Sea company carried on by means of their annual ship, the only trade by which it ever was expected that they could make any considerable profit, they were not without competitors, either in the foreign or in the home market. At Carthagena, Porto Bello, and La Vera Cruz, they had to encounter the competition of the Spanish merchants, who brought from Cadiz to those markets European goods, of the same kind with the outward cargo of their ship; and in England they had to encounter that of the English merchants, who imported from Cadiz goods of the Spanish West Indies, of the same kind with the inward cargo. The goods, both of the Spanish and English merchants, indeed, were, perhaps, subject to higher duties. But the loss occasioned by the negligence, profusion, and malversation of the servants of the company, had probably been a tax much heavier than all those duties. That a joint-stock company should be able to carry on successfully any branch of foreign trade, when private adventurers can come into any sort of open and fair competition with them, seems contrary to all experience.
The old English East India company was established in 1600, by a charter from Queen Elizabeth. In the first twelve voyages which they fitted out for India, they appear to have traded as a regulated company, with separate stocks, though only in the general ships of the company. In 1612, they united into a joint stock. Their charter was exclusive, and, though not confirmed by act of parliament, was in those days supposed to convey a real exclusive privilege. For many years, therefore, they were not much disturbed by interlopers. Their capital, which never exceeded £744,000, and of which £50 was a share, was not so exorbitant, nor their dealings so extensive, as to afford either a pretext for gross negligence and profusion, or a cover to gross malversation. Notwithstanding some extraordinary losses, occasioned partly by the malice of the Dutch East India company, and partly by other accidents, they carried on for many years a successful trade. But in process of time, when the principles of liberty were better understood, it became every day more and more doubtful, how far a royal charter, not confirmed by act of parliament, could convey an exclusive privilege. Upon this question the decisions of the courts of justice were not uniform, but varied with the authority of government, and the humours of the times. Interlopers multiplied upon them; and towards the end of the reign of Charles II., through the whole of that of James II., and during a part of that of William III., reduced them to great distress. In 1698, a proposal was made to parliament, of advancing two millions to government, at eight per cent. provided the subscribers were erected into a new East India company, with exclusive privileges. The old East India company offered seven hundred thousand pounds, nearly the amount of their capital, at four per cent. upon the same conditions. But such was at that time the state of public credit, that it was more convenient for government to borrow two millions at eight per cent. than seven hundred thousand pounds at four. The proposal of the new subscribers was accepted, and a new East India company established in consequence. The old East India company, however, had a right to continue their trade till 1701. They had, at the same time, in the name of their treasurer, subscribed very artfully three hundred and fifteen thousand pounds into the stock of the new. By a negligence in the expression of the act of parliament, which vested the East India trade in the subscribers to this loan of two millions, it did not appear evident that they were all obliged to unite into a joint stock. A few private traders, whose subscriptions amounted only to seven thousand two hundred pounds, insisted upon the privilege of trading separately upon their own stocks, and at their own risks. The old East India company had a right to a separate trade upon their own stock till 1701; and they had likewise, both before and after that period, a right, like that or other private traders, to a separate trade upon the £315,000, which they had subscribed into the stock of the new company. The competition of the two companies with the private traders, and with one another, is said to have well nigh ruined both. Upon a subsequent occasion, in 1750, when a proposal was made to parliament for putting the trade under the management of a regulated company, and thereby laying it in some measure open, the East India company, in opposition to this proposal, represented, in very strong terms, what had been, at this time, the miserable effects, as they thought them, of this competition. In India, they said, it raised the price of goods so high, that they were not worth the buying; and in England, by overstocking the market, it sunk their price so low, that no profit could be made by them. That by a more plentiful supply, to the great advantage and conveniency of the public, it must have reduced very much the price of India goods in the English market, cannot well be doubted; but that it should have raised very much their price in the Indian market, seems not very probable, as all the extraordinary demand which that competition could occasion must have been but as a drop of water in the immense ocean of Indian commerce. The increase of demand, besides, though in the beginning it may sometimes raise the price of goods, never fails to lower it in the long-run. It encourages production, and thereby increases the competition of the producers, who, in order to undersell one another, have recourse to new divisions or labour and new improvements of art, which might never otherwise have been thought of. The miserable effects of which the company complained, were the cheapness of consumption, and the encouragement given to production; precisely the two effects which it is the great business of political economy to promote. The competition, however, of which they gave this doleful account, had not been allowed to be of long continuance. In 1702, the two companies were, in some measure, united by an indenture tripartite, to which the queen was the third party; and in 1708, they were by act of parliament, perfectly consolidated into one company, by their present name of the United Company of Merchants trading to the East Indies. Into this act it was thought worth while to insert a clause, allowing the separate traders to continue their trade till Michaelmas 1711; but at the same time empowering the directors, upon three years notice, to redeem their little capital of seven thousand two hundred pounds, and thereby to convert the whole stock of the company into a joint stock. By the same act, the capital of the company, in consequence of a new loan to government, was augmented from two millions to three millions two hundred thousand pounds. In 1743, the company advanced another million to government. But this million being raised, not by a call upon the proprietors, but by selling annuities and contracting bond-debts, it did not augment the stock upon which the proprietors could claim a dividend. It augmented, however, their trading stock, it being equally liable with the other three millions two hundred thousand pounds, to the losses sustained, and debts contracted by the company in prosecution of their mercantile projects. From 1708, or at least from 1711, this company, being delivered from all competitors, and fully established in the monopoly of the English commerce to the East Indies, carried on a successful trade, and from their profits, made annually a moderate dividend to their proprietors. During the French war, which began in 1741, the ambition of Mr Dupleix, the French governor of Pondicherry, involved them in the wars of the Carnatic, and in the politics of the Indian princes. After many signal successes, and equally signal losses, they at last lost Madras, at that time their principal settlement in India. It was restored to them by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle; and, about this time the spirit of war and conquest seems to have taken possession of their servants in India, and never since to have left them. During the French war, which began in 1755, their arms partook of the general good fortune of those of Great Britain. They defended Madras, took Pondicherry, recovered Calcutta, and acquired the revenues of a rich and extensive territory, amounting, it was then said, to upwards of three millions a-year. They remained for several years in quiet possession of this revenue; but in 1767, administration laid claim to their territorial acquisitions, and the revenue arising from them, as of right belonging to the crown; and the company, in compensation for this claim, agreed to pay to government £400,000 a-year. They had, before this, gradually augmented their dividend from about six to ten per cent.; that is, upon their capital of three millions two hundred thousand pounds, they had increased it by £128,000, or had raised it from one hundred and ninety-two thousand to three hundred and twenty thousand pounds a-year. They were attempting about this time to raise it still further, to twelve and a-half per cent., which would have made their annual payments to their proprietors equal to what they had agreed to pay annually to government, or to £400,000 a-year. But during the two years in which their agreement with government was to take place, they were restrained from any further increase of dividend by two successive acts of parliament, of which the object was to enable them to make a speedier progress in the payment of their debts, which were at this time estimated at upwards of six or seven millions sterling. In 1769, they renewed their agreement with government for five years more, and stipulated, that during the course of that period, they should be allowed gradually to increase their dividend to twelve and a-half per cent; never increasing it, however, more than one per cent. in one year. This increase of dividend, therefore, when it had risen to its utmost height, could augment their annual payments, to their proprietors and government together, but by £680,000, beyond what they had been before their late territorial acquisitions. What the gross revenue of those territorial acquisitions was supposed to amount to, has already been mentioned; and by an account brought by the Cruttenden East Indiaman in 1769, the neat revenue, clear of all deductions and military charges, was stated at two millions forty-eight thousand seven hundred and forty-seven pounds. They were said, at the same time, to possess another revenue, arising partly from lands, but chiefly from the customs established at their different settlements, amounting to £439,000. The profits of their trade, too, according to the evidence of their chairman before the house of commons, amounted, at this time, to at least £400,000 a-year; according to that of their accountant, to at least £500,000; according to the lowest account, at least equal to the highest dividend that was to be paid to their proprietors. So great a revenue might certainly have afforded an augmentation of £680,000 in their annual payments; and, at the same time, have left a large sinking fund, sufficient for the speedy reduction of their debt. In 1773, however, their debts, instead of being reduced, were augmented by an arrear to the treasury in the payment of the four hundred thousand pounds; by another to the custom-house for duties unpaid; by a large debt to the bank, for money borrowed; and by a fourth, for bills drawn upon them from India, and wantonly accepted, to the amount of upwards of twelve hundred thousand pounds. The distress which these accumulated claims brought upon them, obliged them not only to reduce all at once their dividend to six per cent. but to throw themselves upon the mercy of govermnent, and to supplicate, first, a release from the further payment of the stipulated £400,000 a-year; and, secondly, a loan of fourteen hundred thousand, to save them from immediate bankruptcy. The great increase of their fortune had, it seems, only served to furnish their servants with a pretext for greater profusion, and a cover for greater malversation, than in proportion even to that increase of fortune. The conduct of their servants in India, and the general state of their affairs both in India and in Europe, became the subject of a parliamentary inquiry: in consequence of which, several very important alterations were made in the constitution of their government, both at home and abroad. In India, their principal settlements or Madras, Bombay, and Calcutta, which had before been altogether independent of one another, were subjected to a governor-general, assisted by a council of four assessors, parliament assuming to itself the first nomination of this governor and council, who were to reside at Calcutta; that city having now become, what Madras was before, the most important of the English settlements in India. The court of the Mayor of Calcutta, originally instituted for the trial of mercantile causes, which arose in the city and neighbourhood, had gradually extended its jurisdiction with the extension of the empire. It was now reduced and confined to the original purpose of its institution. Instead of it, a new supreme court of judicature was established, consisting of a chief justice and three judges, to be appointed by the crown. In Europe, the qualification necessary to entitle a proprietor to vote at their general courts was raised, from five hundred pounds, the original price of a share in the stock of the company, to a thousand pounds. In order to vote upon this qualification, too, it was declared necessary, that he should have possessed it, if acquired by his own purchase, and not by inheritance, for at least one year, instead of six months, the term requisite before. The court of twenty-four directors had before been chosen annually; but it was now enacted, that each director should, for the future, be chosen for four years; six of them, however, to go out of office by rotation every year, and not be capable of being re-chosen at the election of the six new directors for the ensuing year. In consequence of these alterations, the courts, both of the proprietors and directors, it was expected, would be likely to act with more dignity and steadiness than they had usually done before. But it seems impossible, by any alterations, to render those courts, in any respect, fit to govern, or even to share in the government of a great empire; because the greater part of their members must always have too little interest in the prosperity of that empire, to give any serious attention to what may promote it. Frequently a man of great, sometimes even a man of small fortune, is willing to purchase a thousand pounds share in India stock, merely for the influence which he expects to aquire by a vote in the court of proprietors. It gives him a share, though not in the plunder, yet in the appointment of the plunderers of India; the court of directors, though they make that appointment, being necessarily more or less under the influence of the proprietors, who not only elect those directors, but sometimes over-rule the appointments of their servants in India. Provided he can enjoy this influence for a few years, and thereby provide for a certain number of his friends, he frequently cares little about the dividend, or even about the value of the stock upon which his vote is founded. About the prosperity of the great empire, in the government of which that vote gives him a share, he seldom cares at all. No other sovereigns ever were, or, from the nature of things, ever could be, so perfectly indifferent about the happiness or misery of their subjects, the improvement or waste of their dominions, the glory or disgrace of their administration, as, from irresistible moral causes, the greater part of the proprietors of such a mercantile company are, and necessarily must be. This indifference, too, was more likely to be increased than diminished by some of the new regulations which were made in consequence of the parliamentary inquiry. By a resolution of the house of commons, for example, it was declared, that when the £1,400,000 lent to the company by government, should be paid, and their bond-debts be reduced to £1,500,000, they might then, and not till then, divide eight per cent. upon their capital; and that whatever remained of their revenues and neat profits at home should be divided into four parts; three of them to be paid into the exchequer for the use of the public, and the fourth to be reserved as a fund, either for the further reduction of their bond-debts, or for the discharge of other contingent exigencies which the company might labour under. But if the company were bad stewards and bad sovereigns, when the whole of their neat revenue and profits belonged to themselves, and were at their own disposal, they were surely not likely to be better when three-fourths of them were to belong to other people, and the other fourth, though to be laid out for the benefit of the company, yet to be so under the inspection and with the approbation of other people.
English
The South Sea company had no forts or garrisons to maintain and was therefore spared one great expense borne by other joint-stock companies engaged in foreign trade; but it had an immense capital divided among an immense number of proprietors. It was natural, then, to expect folly, negligence, and extravagance throughout the management of its affairs. The dishonesty and extravagance of its stock-jobbing schemes are well enough known, and an account of them would be beside the present subject. Its trading ventures were scarcely better managed. The first trade it undertook was supplying the Spanish West Indies with enslaved Africans, a trade in which it received an exclusive privilege under what was called the Assiento Contract, granted by the treaty of Utrecht. But little profit was expected from this trade, since both the Portuguese and French companies that had held it on the same terms before had been ruined by it. As compensation, the company was allowed to send a ship of a specified tonnage each year to trade directly with the Spanish West Indies. Of the ten voyages permitted to this annual ship, the company is said to have made a substantial profit on one, that of the Royal Caroline, in 1731, and to have lost money, to varying degrees, on almost all the rest. Its factors and agents blamed their failure on the extortion and oppression of the Spanish government; perhaps it was chiefly due instead to the extravagance and theft of those very factors and agents, some of whom are said to have amassed great fortunes in a single year. In 1734, the company petitioned the king for permission to relinquish the trade and tonnage of its annual ship, given how little profit it yielded, and to accept whatever compensation it could obtain from the king of Spain.
In 1724, this company took up whaling. It had no monopoly of the fishery, but while it pursued the business, no other British subjects appear to have entered it. Of the eight voyages its ships made to Greenland, it profited from one and lost on all the others. After the eighth and last voyage, when it had sold its ships, stores, and equipment, it found that its total loss in this branch, including capital and interest, amounted to upwards of £237,000.
In 1722, the company petitioned parliament for permission to divide its immense capital of more than thirty-three millions eight hundred thousand pounds, all of which it had lent to government, into two equal parts. One half, or upwards of £16,900,000, would be placed on the same footing as other government annuities and sheltered from debts contracted or losses incurred by the company's directors in pursuing their trading ventures. The other half would remain, as before, a trading stock exposed to those debts and losses. The petition was too reasonable to refuse. In 1733, the company petitioned parliament again, asking to convert three-fourths of its trading stock into annuity stock, leaving only one-fourth as trading stock exposed to the risks of its directors' mismanagement. By then several different payments from government had reduced both its annuity and its trading stocks by more than two millions each, so that the remaining fourth amounted to only £3,662,784:8:6. In 1748, by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, all the company's claims against the king of Spain arising from the assiento contract were surrendered in return for what was thought to be an equivalent. Its trade with the Spanish West Indies ended; the rest of its trading stock became annuity stock; and the company ceased, in every respect, to be a trading company.
It should be observed that in the trade carried on by the South Sea company's annual ship—the only trade from which it was ever expected to earn a substantial profit—it faced competitors both abroad and at home. At Carthagena, Porto Bello, and La Vera Cruz, it had to compete with Spanish merchants who brought from Cadiz European goods of the same kind as its ship's outward cargo. In England it had to compete with English merchants who imported from Cadiz goods of the Spanish West Indies of the same kind as its homeward cargo. The goods of both the Spanish and English merchants may, indeed, have been subject to higher duties. But the losses caused by the negligence, extravagance, and misconduct of the company's servants were probably a much heavier tax than all those duties. That a joint-stock company could successfully conduct any branch of foreign trade in which private merchants can compete with it at all openly and fairly seems contrary to all experience.
The old English East India company was established in 1600 by a charter from Queen Elizabeth. On the first twelve voyages it fitted out for India, it seems to have traded as a regulated company, with separate stocks, though only aboard the company's common ships. In 1612, its members united their capital in a joint stock. Its charter was exclusive and, though not confirmed by an act of parliament, was then believed to confer a genuine exclusive privilege. For many years, therefore, unauthorized traders caused it little trouble. Its capital, never greater than £744,000, with shares of £50 each, was not so enormous, nor its business so extensive, as to offer either a pretext for gross negligence and extravagance or cover for gross misconduct. Despite some extraordinary losses, partly caused by the hostility of the Dutch East India company and partly by other accidents, it traded successfully for many years. In time, however, as the principles of liberty came to be better understood, it became increasingly doubtful whether a royal charter not confirmed by an act of parliament could confer an exclusive privilege. The courts did not decide this question consistently: their decisions varied with the government's authority and the temper of the times. Unauthorized traders multiplied and reduced the company to great distress toward the end of the reign of Charles II., throughout that of James II., and during part of that of William III. In 1698, a proposal was put to parliament to advance two millions to government at eight per cent., provided the subscribers were incorporated as a new East India company with exclusive privileges. The old East India company offered seven hundred thousand pounds, nearly its entire capital, at four per cent. on the same conditions. But public credit was then in such a state that it was more convenient for government to borrow two millions at eight per cent. than seven hundred thousand pounds at four. The new subscribers' offer was accepted, and a new East India company established as a result. The old company, however, retained the right to trade until 1701. At the same time it had shrewdly subscribed, in its treasurer's name, three hundred and fifteen thousand pounds to the new company's stock. Because of careless wording in the act of parliament that vested the East India trade in the subscribers to this loan of two millions, it was not clear that they were all obliged to unite their capital in a joint stock. A few private traders, whose subscriptions came to only seven thousand two hundred pounds, insisted on the privilege of trading separately with their own stocks and at their own risk. The old East India company had the right to trade separately with its own stock until 1701; and both before and after that date it had, like other private traders, the right to trade separately on the £315,000 it had subscribed to the new company's stock. Competition between the two companies, the private traders, and one another is said to have nearly ruined both companies. Later, in 1750, when parliament was asked to place the trade under a regulated company's management and thereby open it to some extent, the East India company argued forcefully against the proposal, recounting what it considered the miserable effects of that earlier competition. In India, it said, competition drove prices so high that goods were not worth buying; in England, by flooding the market, it brought prices so low that no profit could be made. There can be little doubt that the more plentiful supply greatly reduced the price of Indian goods on the English market, much to the benefit and convenience of the public. But it seems unlikely to have raised their price greatly in the Indian market: all the extra demand competition could generate must have been a mere drop in the immense ocean of Indian commerce. Moreover, although increased demand may sometimes initially raise the price of goods, in the long run it invariably lowers it. It encourages production and so increases competition among producers, who, to undersell one another, resort to new divisions of labor and new improvements in technique that might otherwise never have been conceived. The miserable effects the company complained of were cheaper consumption and encouragement of production—precisely the two effects that political economy has as its great object to promote. Yet the competition it described so mournfully was not allowed to last long. In 1702, the two companies were united to some extent by a three-party indenture, with the queen as the third party; and in 1708, an act of parliament fully consolidated them into one company under their present name, the United Company of Merchants trading to the East Indies. A clause was deemed worth inserting in the act allowing the separate traders to continue trading until Michaelmas 1711, while empowering the directors, on three years' notice, to buy out their small capital of seven thousand two hundred pounds and thereby convert the company's entire stock into a joint stock. The same act, following a new loan to government, increased the company's capital from two millions to three millions two hundred thousand pounds. In 1743, the company advanced another million to government. But since this million was raised not by a call on the proprietors but by selling annuities and incurring bond debts, it did not increase the stock on which proprietors could claim a dividend. It did increase their trading stock, however, since it was just as liable as the other three millions two hundred thousand pounds for losses and debts incurred in the company's trading ventures. From 1708, or at least from 1711, the company, freed of every competitor and firmly established as the monopolist of English commerce with the East Indies, traded successfully and paid its proprietors a moderate annual dividend out of its profits. During the French war that began in 1741, the ambitions of Mr Dupleix, the French governor of Pondicherry, drew it into the wars of the Carnatic and the politics of the Indian princes. After many remarkable successes and equally remarkable losses, it finally lost Madras, then its principal settlement in India. Madras was restored to it by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle; and about this time a spirit of war and conquest seems to have seized its servants in India and never to have left them. During the French war that began in 1755, its forces shared in the general good fortune of Great Britain's. They defended Madras, took Pondicherry, recovered Calcutta, and acquired the revenues of a rich and extensive territory, then said to amount to upwards of three millions a year. They held this revenue peacefully for several years; but in 1767 the government claimed their territorial acquisitions and the revenues from them as rightfully belonging to the crown, and the company agreed, in settlement of this claim, to pay government £400,000 a year. Before this, it had gradually raised its dividend from about six to ten per cent.; on its capital of three millions two hundred thousand pounds, that meant an increase of £128,000, from one hundred and ninety-two thousand to three hundred and twenty thousand pounds a year. At about this time it was trying to raise the dividend still further to twelve and a-half per cent., which would make its annual payments to its proprietors equal to the £400,000 a year it had agreed to pay government. But for the two years covered by its agreement with government, two successive acts of parliament prevented any further increase in the dividend, intending thereby to hasten repayment of its debts, then estimated at upwards of six or seven millions sterling. In 1769, it renewed its agreement with government for another five years, stipulating that during that period it could gradually raise its dividend to twelve and a-half per cent., though by no more than one per cent. in any one year. Thus, even when this dividend reached its maximum, the increase could add only £680,000 to its annual payments to proprietors and government combined beyond what they had been before its recent territorial acquisitions. The supposed gross revenue of those acquisitions has already been mentioned; an account brought by the Cruttenden East Indiaman in 1769 put their net revenue, after all deductions and military expenses, at two millions forty-eight thousand seven hundred and forty-seven pounds. At the same time they were said to have another revenue, partly from land but chiefly from customs duties imposed at their various settlements, of £439,000. Their trading profits, too, according to their chairman's testimony before the house of commons, were then at least £400,000 a year; according to their accountant, at least £500,000. Even the lower estimate at least equaled the highest dividend payable to their proprietors. Such a great revenue could surely have supported an increase of £680,000 in their annual payments while leaving a substantial sinking fund sufficient to pay down their debt quickly. Yet in 1773, instead of diminishing, their debts had grown: there were arrears to the treasury on the four hundred thousand pounds, unpaid duties owed to the custom-house, a large debt to the bank for borrowed money, and a fourth debt of upwards of twelve hundred thousand pounds in bills drawn on them from India and recklessly accepted. The distress caused by these accumulated demands compelled them not only to cut their dividend at once to six per cent. but to cast themselves on the mercy of government and plead, first, for relief from further payments of the stipulated £400,000 a year and, second, for a loan of fourteen hundred thousand to avert immediate bankruptcy. Their great increase in fortune, it seems, had merely furnished their servants with a pretext for greater extravagance and cover for greater misconduct than even that increase in fortune would suggest. The conduct of their servants in India, and the general state of their affairs in both India and Europe, became the subject of a parliamentary inquiry, which led to several important changes in the structure of their government at home and abroad. In India, their principal settlements of Madras, Bombay, and Calcutta, previously wholly independent of one another, were placed under a governor-general assisted by a council of four assessors. Parliament reserved to itself the first appointment of this governor and council, who were to reside in Calcutta, now the most important English settlement in India, as Madras had been before. The court of the Mayor of Calcutta, originally instituted to try commercial cases arising in the city and its neighborhood, had gradually extended its jurisdiction as the empire expanded. It was now confined again to its original purpose. In its place, a new supreme court of judicature was established, consisting of a chief justice and three judges appointed by the crown. In Europe, the holding required to entitle a proprietor to vote in the general courts was raised from five hundred pounds, the original price of a share in the company's stock, to a thousand pounds. To vote on the strength of that holding, a proprietor who had purchased it rather than inherited it was also required to have held it for at least one year instead of the previous six months. Previously the court of twenty-four directors had been chosen annually; now each director was to be chosen for four years, with six retiring in rotation each year and ineligible for reelection when the six new directors were chosen for the coming year. These changes were expected to make both the proprietors' and directors' courts act with more dignity and steadiness than before. But no change seems capable of making those courts fit to govern, or even share in governing, a great empire: most of their members must always have too little stake in its prosperity to pay serious attention to advancing it. A wealthy man, or sometimes even a man of modest means, is often willing to buy a thousand pounds' share of India stock merely for the influence he expects his vote in the court of proprietors to bring him. It gives him a part, if not in the plunder itself, then in appointing those who plunder India. Although the court of directors makes those appointments, it must remain to some degree under the influence of the proprietors, who elect the directors and sometimes overrule their appointments of servants in India. If he can wield this influence for a few years and thereby provide for a number of friends, he often cares little about the dividend, or even the value of the stock that gives him his vote. He rarely cares at all about the prosperity of the great empire in whose government that vote gives him a share. No other sovereigns ever have been, or by the nature of things ever could be, so utterly indifferent to their subjects' happiness or misery, the improvement or waste of their dominions, and the honor or disgrace of their administration as most proprietors of such a mercantile company are, and from irresistible moral causes must be. Some new regulations resulting from the parliamentary inquiry were more likely to increase this indifference than diminish it. A resolution of the house of commons, for example, declared that once the £1,400,000 lent to the company by government had been repaid and its bond debts reduced to £1,500,000, it could then, and not before, pay a dividend of eight per cent. on its capital. Whatever remained of its revenues and net profits at home was to be divided into four parts: three paid into the exchequer for public use, and the fourth reserved as a fund either to reduce its bond debts further or to meet other unforeseen needs it might face. But if the company were poor stewards and poor sovereigns when all its net revenue and profits belonged to it and were at its disposal, it was surely unlikely to become better when three-fourths belonged to others and even the remaining fourth, though to be spent for the company's benefit, could be spent only under others' supervision and with their approval.
Book V, Chapter I, 10
18th-century English
It might be more agreeable to the company, that their own servants and dependants should have either the pleasure of wasting, or the profit of embezzling, whatever surplus might remain, after paying the proposed dividend of eight per cent. than that it should come into the hands of a set of people with whom those resolutions could scarce fail to set them in some measure at variance. The interest of those servants and dependants might so far predominate in the court of proprietors, as sometimes to dispose it to support the authors of depredations which had been committed in direct violation of its own authority. With the majority of proprietors, the support even of the authority of their own court might sometimes be a matter of less consequence than the support of those who had set that authority at defiance.
The regulations of 1773, accordingly, did not put an end to the disorder of the company’s government in India. Notwithstanding that, during a momentary fit of good conduct, they had at one time collected into the treasury of Calcutta more than £3,000,000 sterling; notwithstanding that they had afterwards extended either their dominion or their depredations over a vast accession of some of the richest and most fertile countries in India, all was wasted and destroyed. They found themselves altogether unprepared to stop or resist the incursion of Hyder Ali; and in consequence of those disorders, the company is now (1784) in greater distress than ever; and, in order to prevent immediate bankruptcy, is once more reduced to supplicate the assistance of government. Different plans have been proposed by the different parties in parliament for the better management of its affairs; and all those plans seem to agree in supposing, what was indeed always abundantly evident, that it is altogether unfit to govern its territorial possessions. Even the company itself seems to be convinced of its own incapacity so far, and seems, upon that account willing to give them up to government.
With the right of possessing forts and garrisons in distant and barbarous countries is necessarily connected the right of making peace and war in those countries. The joint-stock companies, which have had the one right, have constantly exercised the other, and have frequently had it expressly conferred upon them. How unjustly, how capriciously, how cruelly, they have commonly exercised it, is too well known from recent experience.
When a company of merchants undertake, at their own risk and expense, to establish a new trade with some remote and barbarous nation, it may not be unreasonable to incorporate them into a joint-stock company, and to grant them, in case of their success, a monopoly of the trade for a certain number of years. It is the easiest and most natural way in which the state can recompense them for hazarding a dangerous and expensive experiment, of which the public is afterwards to reap the benefit. A temporary monopoly of this kind may be vindicated, upon the same principles upon which a like monopoly of a new machine is granted to its inventor, and that of a new book to its author. But upon the expiration of the term, the monopoly ought certainly to determine; the forts and garrisons, if it was found necessary to establish any, to be taken into the hands of government, their value to be paid to the company, and the trade to be laid open to all the subjects of the state. By a perpetual monopoly, all the other subjects of the state are taxed very absurdly in two different ways: first, by the high price of goods, which, in the case of a free trade, they could buy much cheaper; and, secondly, by their total exclusion from a branch of business which it might be both convenient and profitable for many of them to carry on. It is for the most worthless of all purposes, too, that they are taxed in this manner. It is merely to enable the company to support the negligence, profusion, and malversation of their own servants, whose disorderly conduct seldom allows the dividend of the company to exceed the ordinary rate of profit in trades which are altogether free, and very frequently makes a fall even a good deal short of that rate. Without a monopoly, however, a joint-stock company, it would appear from experience, cannot long carry on any branch of foreign trade. To buy in one market, in order to sell with profit in another, when there are many competitors in both; to watch over, not only the occasional variations in the demand, but the much greater and more frequent variations in the competition, or in the supply which that demand is likely to get from other people; and to suit with dexterity and judgment both the quantity and quality of each assortment of goods to all these circumstances, is a species of warfare, of which the operations are continually changing, and which can scarce ever be conducted successfully, without such an unremitting exertion of vigilance and attention as cannot long be expected from the directors of a joint-stock company. The East India company, upon the redemption of their funds, and the expiration of their exclusive privilege, have a right, by act of parliament, to continue a corporation with a joint stock, and to trade in their corporate capacity to the East Indies, in common with the rest of their fellow subjects. But in this situation, the superior vigilance and attention of a private adventurer would, in all probability, soon make them weary of the trade.
An eminent French author, of great knowledge in matters of political economy, the Abbe Morellet, gives a list of fifty-five joint-stock companies for foreign trade, which have been established in different parts of Europe since the year 1600, and which, according to him, have all failed from mismanagement, notwithstanding they had exclusive privileges. He has been misinformed with regard to the history of two or three of them, which were not joint-stock companies and have not failed. But, in compensation, there have been several joint-stock companies which have failed, and which he has omitted.
The only trades which it seems possible for a joint-stock company to carry on successfully, without an exclusive privilege, are those, of which all the operations are capable of being reduced to what is called a routine, or to such a uniformity of method as admits of little or no variation. Of this kind is, first, the banking trade; secondly, the trade of insurance from fire and from sea risk, and capture in time of war; thirdly, the trade of making and maintaining a navigable cut or canal; and, fourthly, the similar trade of bringing water for the supply of a great city.
Though the principles of the banking trade may appear somewhat abstruse, the practice is capable of being reduced to strict rules. To depart upon any occasion from those rules, in consequence of some flattering speculation of extraordinary gain, is almost always extremely dangerous and frequently fatal to the banking company which attempts it. But the constitution of joint-stock companies renders them in general, more tenacious of established rules than any private copartnery. Such companies, therefore, seem extremely well fitted for this trade. The principal banking companies in Europe, accordingly, are joint-stock companies, many of which manage their trade very successfully without any exclusive privilege. The bank of England has no other exclusive privilege, except that no other banking company in England shall consist of more than six persons. The two banks of Edinburgh are joint-stock companies, without any exclusive privilege.
The value of the risk, either from fire, or from loss by sea, or by capture, though it cannot, perhaps, be calculated very exactly, admits, however, of such a gross estimation, as renders it, in some degree, reducible to strict rule and method. The trade of insurance, therefore, may be carried on successfully by a joint-stock company, without any exclusive privilege. Neither the London Assurance, nor the Royal Exchange Assurance companies have any such privilege.
When a navigable cut or canal has been once made, the management of it becomes quite simple and easy, and it is reducible to strict rule and method. Even the making of it is so, as it may be contracted for with undertakers, at so much a mile, and so much a lock. The same thing may be said of a canal, an aqueduct, or a great pipe for bringing water to supply a great city. Such under-takings, therefore, may be, and accordingly frequently are, very successfully managed by joint-stock companies, without any exclusive privilege.
To establish a joint-stock company, however, for any undertaking, merely because such a company might be capable of managing it successfully; or, to exempt a particular set of dealers from some of the general laws which take place with regard to all their neighbours, merely because they might be capable of thriving, if they had such an exemption, would certainly not be reasonable. To render such an establishment perfectly reasonable, with the circumstance of being reducible to strict rule and method, two other circumstances ought to concur. First, it ought to appear with the clearest evidence, that the undertaking is of greater and more general utility than the greater part of common trades; and, secondly, that it requires a greater capital than can easily be collected into a private copartnery. If a moderate capital were sufficient, the great utility of the undertaking would not be a sufficient reason for establishing a joint-stock company; because, in this case, the demand for what it was to produce, would readily and easily be supplied by private adventurers. In the four trades above mentioned, both those circumstances concur.
The great and general utility of the banking trade, when prudently managed, has been fully explained in the second book of this Inquiry. But a public bank, which is to support public credit, and, upon particular emergencies, to advance to government the whole produce of a tax, to the amount, perhaps, of several millions, a year or two before it comes in, requires a greater capital than can easily be collected into any private copartnery.
The trade of insurance gives great security to the fortunes of private people, and, by dividing among a great many that loss which would ruin an individual, makes it fall light and easy upon the whole society. In order to give this security, however, it is necessary that the insurers should have a very large capital. Before the establishment of the two joint-stock companies for insurance in London, a list, it is said, was laid before the attorney-general, of one hundred and fifty private usurers, who had failed in the course of a few years.
That navigable cuts and canals, and the works which are sometimes necessary for supplying a great city with water, are of great and general utility, while, at the same time, they frequently require a greater expense than suits the fortunes of private people, is sufficiently obvious.
Except the four trades above mentioned, I have not been able to recollect any other, in which all the three circumstances requisite for rendering reasonable the establishment of a joint-stock company concur. The English copper company of London, the lead-smelting company, the glass-grinding company, have not even the pretext of any great or singular utility in the object which they pursue; nor does the pursuit of that object seem to require any expense unsuitable to the fortunes of many private men. Whether the trade which those companies carry on, is reducible to such strict rule and method as to render it fit for the management of a joint-stock company, or whether they have any reason to boast of their extraordinary profits, I do not pretend to know. The mine-adventurers company has been long ago bankrupt. A share in the stock of the British Linen company of Edinburgh sells, at present, very much below par, though less so than it did some years ago. The joint-stock companies, which are established for the public-spirited purpose of promoting some particular manufacture, over and above managing their own affairs ill, to the diminution of the general stock of the society, can, in other respects, scarce ever fail to do more harm than good. Notwithstanding the most upright intentions, the unavoidable partiality of their directors to particular branches of the manufacture, of which the undertakers mislead and impose upon them, is a real discouragement to the rest, and necessarily breaks, more or less, that natural proportion which would otherwise establish itself between judicious industry and profit, and which, to the general industry of the country, is of all encouragements the greatest and the most effectual.
ART. II.—Of the Expense of the Institution for the Education of Youth.
The institutions for the education of the youth may, in the same manner, furnish a revenue sufficient for defraying their own expense. The fee or honorary, which the scholar pays to the master, naturally constitutes a revenue of this kind.
Even where the reward of the master does not arise altogether from this natural revenue, it still is not necessary that it should be derived from that general revenue of the society, of which the collection and application are, in most countries, assigned to the executive power. Through the greater part of Europe, accordingly, the endowment of schools and colleges makes either no charge upon that general revenue, or but a very small one. It everywhere arises chiefly from some local or provincial revenue, from the rent of some landed estate, or from the interest of some sum of money, allotted and put under the management of trustees for this particular purpose, sometimes by the sovereign himself, and sometimes by some private donor.
Have those public endowments contributed in general, to promote the end of their institution? Have they contributed to encourage the diligence, and to improve the abilities, of the teachers? Have they directed the course of education towards objects more useful, both to the individual and to the public, than those to which it would naturally have gone of its own accord? It should not seem very difficult to give at least a probable answer to each of those questions.
In every profession, the exertion of the greater part of those who exercise it, is always in proportion to the necessity they are under of making that exertion. This necessity is greatest with those to whom the emoluments of their profession are the only source from which they expect their fortune, or even their ordinary revenue and subsistence. In order to acquire this fortune, or even to get this subsistence, they must, in the course of a year, execute a certain quantity of work of a known value; and, where the competition is free, the rivalship of competitors, who are all endeavouring to justle one another out of employment, obliges every man to endeavour to execute his work with a certain degree of exactness. The greatness of the objects which are to be acquired by success in some particular professions may, no doubt, sometimes animate the exertions of a few men of extraordinary spirit and ambition. Great objects, however, are evidently not necessary, in order to occasion the greatest exertions. Rivalship and emulation render excellency, even in mean professions, an object of ambition, and frequently occasion the very greatest exertions. Great objects, on the contrary, alone and unsupported by the necessity of application, have seldom been sufficient to occasion any considerable exertion. In England, success in the profession of the law leads to some very great objects of ambition; and yet how few men, born to easy fortunes, have ever in this country been eminent in that profession?
The endowments of schools and colleges have necessarily diminished, more or less, the necessity of application in the teachers. Their subsistence, so far as it arises from their salaries, is evidently derived from a fund, altogether independent of their success and reputation in their particular professions.
English
The company might prefer that its own servants and dependents enjoy either the pleasure of wasting or the profit of embezzling whatever surplus remained after payment of the proposed eight per cent. dividend, rather than see it pass into the hands of people with whom those resolutions could scarcely fail to set them at odds. The interests of these servants and dependents might gain enough sway in the court of proprietors to induce it at times to defend those responsible for thefts committed in direct defiance of its own authority. For a majority of proprietors, even upholding their court's authority might sometimes matter less than supporting those who had defied it.
The regulations of 1773, accordingly, did not end the disorder of the company's government in India. Though in a brief spell of good management it had once gathered more than £3,000,000 sterling into the treasury at Calcutta; though it had subsequently extended either its dominion or its plundering over a vast addition of some of India's richest and most fertile lands, all was squandered and destroyed. It found itself wholly unprepared to halt or resist Hyder Ali's incursion. Because of these disorders, the company is now (1784) in greater distress than ever and, to avert immediate bankruptcy, is once more reduced to pleading for government assistance. The different parties in parliament have put forward different plans for improving the management of its affairs; all appear to assume what had always been abundantly clear: it is wholly unfit to govern its territorial possessions. Even the company itself seems sufficiently convinced of its incapacity to be willing, on that account, to surrender them to government.
The right to hold forts and garrisons in distant and supposedly barbarous countries necessarily carries with it the right to make peace and war there. Joint-stock companies possessing the first right have invariably exercised the second, which has often been expressly conferred on them. Recent experience has shown only too clearly how unjustly, capriciously, and cruelly they have generally exercised it.
When merchants undertake, at their own risk and expense, to establish a new trade with a remote and supposedly barbarous nation, it may be reasonable to incorporate them into a joint-stock company and, if they succeed, grant them a monopoly of that trade for a specified number of years. This is the easiest and most natural means for the state to repay them for risking a dangerous and expensive experiment from which the public will later benefit. A temporary monopoly of this sort can be justified on the same principles as the monopoly granted to the inventor of a new machine or the author of a new book. But when its term expires, the monopoly must certainly end. Any forts and garrisons that proved necessary should pass into government hands, with the company paid their value, and the trade should open to every subject of the state. A perpetual monopoly taxes every other subject of the state, quite absurdly, in two different ways: first, through the high prices of goods that they could buy far more cheaply under free trade; and second, by excluding them entirely from a line of business that many might find both convenient and profitable to pursue. The purpose for which they are taxed in this fashion is the most worthless imaginable. It is merely to enable the company to sustain the negligence, extravagance, and misconduct of its own servants, whose disorderly behavior seldom lets its dividend exceed the ordinary rate of profit in wholly free trades, and very often causes it to fall considerably short of that rate. Yet experience seems to show that without a monopoly a joint-stock company cannot long conduct any branch of foreign trade. Buying in one market for profitable sale in another, with many competitors in both; watching not merely the occasional shifts in demand but the much larger and more frequent shifts in competition, or in the supply that others are likely to offer in response to that demand; and adjusting with skill and judgment both the quantity and the quality of every assortment of goods to all these circumstances—this is a kind of warfare whose operations continually change. It can scarcely be conducted successfully without a sustained vigilance and attention that cannot long be expected of the directors of a joint-stock company. By act of parliament, the East India company has the right, after its funds have been redeemed and its exclusive privilege expired, to remain a corporation with a joint stock and to trade as a corporation with the East Indies alongside its fellow subjects. But under those conditions, the greater vigilance and care of private merchants would in all probability soon make it weary of the trade.
An eminent French author with great knowledge of political economy, the Abbe Morellet, lists fifty-five joint-stock companies engaged in foreign trade, established in different parts of Europe since the year 1600, all of which, he says, failed through mismanagement despite having exclusive privileges. He has been misinformed about the histories of two or three: they were not joint-stock companies and did not fail. In compensation, however, he omits several joint-stock companies that did fail.
The only trades a joint-stock company seems capable of conducting successfully without an exclusive privilege are those whose entire operations can be reduced to what is called a routine, a uniform method allowing little or no variation. They are, first, banking; second, insurance against fire, loss at sea, and capture in wartime; third, the construction and maintenance of a navigable cut or canal; and fourth, the similar business of bringing water to supply a great city.
Though the principles of banking may seem somewhat difficult to grasp, its practice can be reduced to strict rules. Departing from those rules on any occasion in pursuit of a tempting prospect of extraordinary gain is almost always extremely dangerous and frequently fatal to the bank that tries it. But the structure of joint-stock companies generally makes them more faithful to established rules than any private partnership. Such companies therefore seem particularly well suited to banking. Accordingly, Europe's principal banks are joint-stock companies, many of them trading very successfully without an exclusive privilege. The bank of England has no exclusive privilege other than the rule that no other banking company in England may consist of more than six persons. The two banks of Edinburgh are joint-stock companies without any exclusive privilege.
The value of the risk of fire, loss at sea, or capture may not admit of a very exact calculation, but it can be estimated roughly enough to be governed to some extent by strict rule and method. Insurance can therefore be carried on successfully by a joint-stock company without any exclusive privilege. Neither the London Assurance nor the Royal Exchange Assurance companies possess such a privilege.
Once a navigable cut or canal has been built, its management becomes quite simple and easy and can be governed by strict rule and method. Even its construction can be so governed, since it can be contracted out to builders at a set price per mile and per lock. The same can be said of a canal, an aqueduct, or a large pipe supplying a great city with water. Such undertakings can therefore be, and often are, very successfully managed by joint-stock companies without any exclusive privilege.
It would certainly not be reasonable, however, to establish a joint-stock company for an undertaking merely because it might manage that undertaking successfully, or to exempt a particular set of dealers from some general laws applying to all their neighbors merely because they might prosper under that exemption. To make such an establishment entirely reasonable, two other conditions must accompany the possibility of governing it by strict rule and method. First, there must be the clearest evidence that the undertaking is of greater and more general benefit than most ordinary trades; second, it must require more capital than a private partnership could easily raise. If moderate capital sufficed, even the undertaking's great utility would not justify establishing a joint-stock company, for private merchants would readily and easily meet the demand for its product. Both additional conditions are fulfilled in the four trades mentioned above.
The great and general benefit of prudent banking has been fully explained in the second book of this Inquiry. But a public bank that must support public credit and, in particular emergencies, advance government the entire proceeds of a tax—perhaps several millions—a year or two before the tax comes in needs more capital than any private partnership could easily raise.
Insurance gives great security to private fortunes. By distributing among many people a loss that would ruin one individual, it makes that loss light and bearable for society as a whole. But to give this security, insurers need a very large capital. Before the two joint-stock insurance companies were established in London, a list was reportedly submitted to the attorney-general of one hundred and fifty private usurers who had failed within a few years.
That navigable cuts and canals, and the works sometimes needed to supply a great city with water, are of great and general benefit, while often costing more than private individuals can afford, is plain enough.
Apart from the four trades mentioned above, I can recall no other in which all three conditions needed to justify establishing a joint-stock company come together. The English copper company of London, the lead-smelting company, and the glass-grinding company cannot even claim any great or exceptional usefulness in what they seek to accomplish; nor does pursuing their aims appear to demand an expense beyond the means of many private people. Whether the trades these companies conduct can be brought under rules and methods strict enough to suit the management of a joint-stock company, or whether they have any grounds to boast of extraordinary profits, I do not claim to know. The mine-adventurers company went bankrupt long ago. A share in the British Linen company of Edinburgh now sells far below par, though not as far below as it did some years ago. Joint-stock companies established with the public-spirited aim of promoting a particular manufacture not only manage their own affairs poorly, reducing society's general stock, but in other respects can scarcely fail to do more harm than good. Despite the most upright intentions, their directors are inevitably partial to certain branches of the manufacture, swayed and deceived by the people conducting them. This genuinely discourages the other branches and necessarily disrupts, to some degree, the natural relation that would otherwise arise between well-directed industry and profit—a relation that is the strongest and most effective of all encouragements to the country's industry as a whole.
ART. II.—On the Expense of the Institution for the Education of Youth.
Institutions for educating the young may likewise provide enough revenue to cover their own expenses. The fee or honorarium a pupil pays a teacher naturally provides revenue of this kind.
Even when the teacher's compensation does not come wholly from this natural source, it need not come from the general revenue of society, whose collection and use are assigned in most countries to the executive power. Thus, across most of Europe, endowing schools and colleges places either no burden or only a very small one on that general revenue. Their funding everywhere comes chiefly from local or provincial revenues, the rent of landed property, or interest on a sum of money set aside for this particular purpose and entrusted to trustees, sometimes by the sovereign himself and sometimes by a private donor.
Have these public endowments, in general, helped advance the purpose for which they were established? Have they encouraged teachers' diligence and improved their abilities? Have they guided education toward subjects more useful to individuals and the public than those it would naturally have pursued on its own? It should not be very difficult to give at least a plausible answer to each of these questions.
In every profession, the effort most practitioners put forth is always proportionate to their need to make that effort. That need is greatest among those who rely on the earnings of their profession as the sole source of the fortune they hope to make, or even of their ordinary income and livelihood. To make that fortune, or merely to earn a living, they must perform within a year a certain quantity of work of known value. Where competition is free, rivalry among competitors, all striving to displace one another, obliges everyone to perform that work with some degree of precision. The great rewards attainable through success in certain professions may sometimes, no doubt, inspire a few people of exceptional spirit and ambition to exert themselves. But great rewards are plainly not necessary to bring about the greatest efforts. Rivalry and emulation make excellence an object of ambition even in humble professions, and frequently elicit the very greatest efforts. Great rewards alone, by contrast, without any necessity for sustained application, have seldom been enough to produce any substantial effort. In England, success in the legal profession leads to some very great prizes of ambition; yet how few people born to comfortable fortunes have ever become eminent in that profession here?
The endowments of schools and colleges have necessarily reduced, to some degree, teachers' need to apply themselves. Insofar as their livelihood comes from salaries, it plainly comes from a fund wholly independent of their success and reputation in their particular professions.
Book V, Chapter I, 11
18th-century English
In some universities, the salary makes but a part, and frequently but a small part, of the emoluments of the teacher, of which the greater part arises from the honoraries or fees of his pupils. The necessity of application, though always more or less diminished, is not, in this case, entirely taken away. Reputation in his profession is still of some importance to him, and he still has some dependency upon the affection, gratitude, and favourable report of those who have attended upon his instructions; and these favourable sentiments he is likely to gain in no way so well as by deserving them, that is, by the abilities and diligence with which he discharges every part of his duty.
In other universities, the teacher is prohibited from receiving any honorary or fee from his pupils, and his salary constitutes the whole of the revenue which he derives from his office. His interest is, in this case, set as directly in opposition to his duty as it is possible to set it. It is the interest of every man to live as much at his ease as he can; and if his emoluments are to be precisely the same, whether he does or does not perform some very laborious duty, it is certainly his interest, at least as interest is vulgarly understood, either to neglect it altogether, or, if he is subject to some authority which will not suffer him to do this, to perform it in as careless and slovenly a manner as that authority will permit. If he is naturally active and a lover of labour, it is his interest to employ that activity in any way from which he can derive some advantage, rather than in the performance of his duty, from which he can derive none.
If the authority to which he is subject resides in the body corporate, the college, or university, of which he himself is a member, and in which the greater part of the other members are, like himself, persons who either are, or ought to be teachers, they are likely to make a common cause, to be all very indulgent to one another, and every man to consent that his neighbour may neglect his duty, provided he himself is allowed to neglect his own. In the university of Oxford, the greater part of the public professors have, for these many years, given up altogether even the pretence of teaching.
If the authority to which he is subject resides, not so much in the body corporate, of which he is a member, as in some other extraneous persons, in the bishop of the diocese, for example, in the governor of the province, or, perhaps, in some minister of state, it is not, indeed, in this case, very likely that he will be suffered to neglect his duty altogether. All that such superiors, however, can force him to do, is to attend upon his pupils a certain number of hours, that is, to give a certain number of lectures in the week, or in the year. What those lectures shall be, must still depend upon the diligence of the teacher; and that diligence is likely to be proportioned to the motives which he has for exerting it. An extraneous jurisdiction of this kind, besides, is liable to be exercised both ignorantly and capriciously. In its nature, it is arbitrary and discretionary; and the persons who exercise it, neither attending upon the lectures of the teacher themselves, nor perhaps understanding the sciences which it is his business to teach, are seldom capable of exercising it with judgment. From the insolence of office, too, they are frequently indifferent how they exercise it, and are very apt to censure or deprive him of his office wantonly and without any just cause. The person subject to such jurisdiction is necessarily degraded by it, and, instead of being one of the most respectable, is rendered one of the meanest and most contemptible persons in the society. It is by powerful protection only, that he can effectually guard himself against the bad usage to which he is at all times exposed; and this protection he is most likely to gain, not by ability or diligence in his profession, but by obsequiousness to the will of his superiors, and by being ready, at all times, to sacrifice to that will the rights, the interest, and the honour of the body corporate, of which he is a member. Whoever has attended for any considerable time to the administration of a French university, must have had occasion to remark the effects which naturally result from an arbitrary and extraneous jurisdiction of this kind.
Whatever forces a certain number of students to any college or university, independent of the merit or reputation of the teachers, tends more or less to diminish the necessity of that merit or reputation.
The privileges of graduates in arts, in law, physic, and divinity, when they can be obtained only by residing a certain number of years in certain universities, necessarily force a certain number of students to such universities, independent of the merit or reputation of the teachers. The privileges of graduates are a sort of statutes of apprenticeship, which have contributed to the improvement of education just as the other statutes of apprenticeship have to that of arts and manufactures.
The charitable foundations of scholarships, exhibitions, bursaries, etc. necessarily attach a certain number of students to certain colleges, independent altogether of the merit of those particular colleges. Were the students upon such charitable foundations left free to choose what college they liked best, such liberty might perhaps contribute to excite some emulation among different colleges. A regulation, on the contrary, which prohibited even the independent members of every particular college from leaving it, and going to any other, without leave first asked and obtained of that which they meant to abandon, would tend very much to extinguish that emulation.
If in each college, the tutor or teacher, who was to instruct each student in all arts and sciences, should not be voluntarily chosen by the student, but appointed by the head of the college; and if, in case of neglect, inability, or bad usage, the student should not be allowed to change him for another, without leave first asked and obtained; such a regulation would not only tend very much to extinguish all emulation among the different tutors of the same college, but to diminish very much, in all of them, the necessity of diligence and of attention to their respective pupils. Such teachers, though very well paid by their students, might be as much disposed to neglect them, as those who are not paid by them at all or who have no other recompense but their salary.
If the teacher happens to be a man of sense, it must be an unpleasant thing to him to be conscious, while he is lecturing to his students, that he is either speaking or reading nonsense, or what is very little better than nonsense. It must, too, be unpleasant to him to observe, that the greater part of his students desert his lectures; or perhaps, attend upon them with plain enough marks of neglect, contempt, and derision. If he is obliged, therefore, to give a certain number of lectures, these motives alone, without any other interest, might dispose him to take some pains to give tolerably good ones. Several different expedients, however, may be fallen upon, which will effectually blunt the edge of all those incitements to diligence. The teacher, instead of explaining to his pupils himself the science in which he proposes to instruct them, may read some book upon it; and if this book is written in a foreign and dead language, by interpreting it to them into their own, or, what would give him still less trouble, by making them interpret it to him, and by now and then making an occasional remark upon it, he may flatter himself that he is giving a lecture. The slightest degree of knowledge and application will enable him to do this, without exposing himself to contempt or derision, by saying any thing that is really foolish, absurd, or ridiculous. The discipline of the college, at the same time, may enable him to force all his pupils to the most regular attendance upon his sham lecture, and to maintain the most decent and respectful behaviour during the whole time of the performance.
The discipline of colleges and universities is in general contrived, not for the benefit of the students, but for the interest, or, more properly speaking, for the ease of the masters. Its object is, in all cases, to maintain the authority of the master, and, whether he neglects or performs his duty, to oblige the students in all cases to behave to him as if he performed it with the greatest diligence and ability. It seems to presume perfect wisdom and virtue in the one order, and the greatest weakness and folly in the other. Where the masters, however, really perform their duty, there are no examples, I believe, that the greater part of the students ever neglect theirs. No discipline is ever requisite to force attendance upon lectures which are really worth the attending, as is well known wherever any such lectures are given. Force and restraint may, no doubt, be in some degree requisite, in order to oblige children, or very young boys, to attend to those parts of education, which it is thought necessary for them to acquire during that early period of life; but after twelve or thirteen years of age, provided the master does his duty, force or restraint can scarce ever be necessary to carry on any part of education. Such is the generosity of the greater part of young men, that so far from being disposed to neglect or despise the instructions of their master, provided he shews some serious intention of being of use to them, they are generally inclined to pardon a great deal of incorrectness in the performance of his duty, and sometimes even to conceal from the public a good deal of gross negligence.
Those parts of education, it is to be observed, for the teaching of which there are no public institutions, are generally the best taught. When a young man goes to a fencing or a dancing school, he does not, indeed, always learn to fence or to dance very well; but he seldom fails of learning to fence or to dance. The good effects of the riding school are not commonly so evident. The expense of a riding school is so great, that in most places it is a public institution. The three most essential parts of literary education, to read, write, and account, it still continues to be more common to acquire in private than in public schools; and it very seldom happens, that anybody fails of acquiring them to the degree in which it is necessary to acquire them.
In England, the public schools are much less corrupted than the universities. In the schools, the youth are taught, or at least may be taught, Greek and Latin; that is, everything which the masters pretend to teach, or which it is expected they should teach. In the universities, the youth neither are taught, nor always can find any proper means of being taught the sciences, which it is the business of those incorporated bodies to teach. The reward of the schoolmaster, in most cases, depends principally, in some cases almost entirely, upon the fees or honoraries of his scholars. Schools have no exclusive privileges. In order to obtain the honours of graduation, it is not necessary that a person should bring a certificate of his having studied a certain number of years at a public school. If, upon examination, he appears to understand what is taught there, no questions are asked about the place where he learnt it.
The parts of education which are commonly taught in universities, it may perhaps be said, are not very well taught. But had it not been for those institutions, they would not have been commonly taught at all; and both the individual and the public would have suffered a good deal from the want of those important parts of education.
The present universities of Europe were originally, the greater part of them, ecclesiastical corporations, instituted for the education of churchmen. They were founded by the authority of the pope; and were so entirely under his immediate protection, that their members, whether masters or students, had all of them what was then called the benefit of clergy, that is, were exempted from the civil jurisdiction of the countries in which their respective universities were situated, and were amenable only to the ecclesiastical tribunals. What was taught in the greater part of those universities was suitable to the end of their institution, either theology, or something that was merely preparatory to theology.
When Christianity was first established by law, a corrupted Latin had become the common language of all the western parts of Europe. The service of the church, accordingly, and the translation of the Bible which were read in churches, were both in that corrupted Latin; that is, in the common language of the country, After the irruption of the barbarous nations who overturned the Roman empire, Latin gradually ceased to be the language of any part of Europe. But the reverence of the people naturally preserves the established forms and ceremonies of religion long after the circumstances which first introduced and rendered them reasonable, are no more. Though Latin, therefore, was no longer understood anywhere by the great body of the people, the whole service of the church still continued to be performed in that language. Two different languages were thus established in Europe, in the same manner as in ancient Egypt: a language of the priests, and a language of the people; a sacred and a profane, a learned and an unlearned language. But it was necessary that the priests should understand something of that sacred and learned language in which they were to officiate; and the study of the Latin language therefore made, from the beginning, an essential part of university education.
It was not so with that either of the Greek or of the Hebrew language. The infallible decrees of the church had pronounced the Latin translation of the Bible, commonly called the Latin Vulgate, to have been equally dictated by divine inspiration, and therefore of equal authority with the Greek and Hebrew originals. The knowledge of those two languages, therefore, not being indispensably requisite to a churchman, the study of them did not for a long time make a necessary part of the common course of university education. There are some Spanish universities, I am assured, in which the study of the Greek language has never yet made any part of that course. The first reformers found the Greek text of the New Testament, and even the Hebrew text of the Old, more favourable to their opinions than the vulgate translation, which, as might naturally be supposed, had been gradually accommodated to support the doctrines of the Catholic Church. They set themselves, therefore, to expose the many errors of that translation, which the Roman catholic clergy were thus put under the necessity of defending or explaining. But this could not well be done without some knowledge of the original languages, of which the study was therefore gradually introduced into the greater part of universities; both of those which embraced, and of those which rejected, the doctrines of the reformation. The Greek language was connected with every part of that classical learning, which, though at first principally cultivated by catholics and Italians, happened to come into fashion much about the same time that the doctrines of the reformation were set on foot. In the greater part of universities, therefore, that language was taught previous to the study of philosophy, and as soon as the student had made some progress in the Latin. The Hebrew language having no connection with classical learning, and, except the Holy Scriptures, being the language of not a single book in any esteem the study of it did not commonly commence till after that of philosophy, and when the student had entered upon the study of theology.
English
In some universities, the salary forms only part, and often a small part, of a teacher's earnings; most come from the honoraria or fees paid by his pupils. The need to apply himself, though reduced to some degree, is not entirely removed. His professional reputation still matters to him, and he remains partly dependent on the affection, gratitude, and favorable reports of those he has taught. He is most likely to earn these favorable feelings by deserving them: through the ability and diligence with which he performs every part of his duty.
In other universities, teachers are forbidden to receive any honorarium or fee from their pupils, and their salary constitutes all the revenue they derive from their office. Their interest is then set as directly against their duty as it could possibly be. Everyone has an interest in living as comfortably as possible; and if his earnings remain exactly the same whether or not he performs some very laborious duty, it is certainly in his interest, at least as interest is commonly understood, either to neglect it altogether or, if some authority prevents him from doing that, to perform it as carelessly and sloppily as that authority allows. If he is naturally energetic and loves work, it is in his interest to employ his energy in some way that benefits him rather than in performing a duty that brings him no benefit.
If the authority over him belongs to the corporation—the college or university—of which he is himself a member, and most of whose other members, like him, either are or ought to be teachers, they are likely to make common cause. They will be very indulgent to one another, each consenting to let his neighbor neglect his duty on condition that he may neglect his own. At the university of Oxford, most public professors have for many years abandoned even the pretense of teaching.
If the authority over him belongs less to his own corporation than to outsiders—to the bishop of the diocese, for example, the governor of the province, or perhaps a minister of state—he is unlikely to be allowed to neglect his duty altogether. All such superiors can force him to do, however, is to attend to his pupils for a certain number of hours, or give a certain number of lectures a week or a year. The content of those lectures must still depend on the teacher's diligence, and his diligence will probably correspond to the incentives he has to exercise it. Such outside supervision, moreover, can be exercised ignorantly and capriciously. It is arbitrary and discretionary by nature; those who wield it neither attend the teacher's lectures themselves nor perhaps understand the sciences he is supposed to teach, and so are seldom capable of exercising sound judgment. In the arrogance of office, they are often indifferent to how they use their power, and quite ready to censure him or deprive him of his position on a whim, without just cause. Such supervision necessarily degrades the person subject to it: instead of becoming one of society's most respected members, he becomes one of its most lowly and despised. Only powerful protection can effectively shield him from the mistreatment to which he is constantly exposed; and he is most likely to obtain that protection not through professional ability or diligence, but through obedience to his superiors' wishes and readiness at all times to sacrifice to those wishes the rights, interests, and honor of the corporation to which he belongs. Anyone who has observed the administration of a French university for any length of time must have had occasion to notice the natural effects of this arbitrary outside jurisdiction.
Anything that compels a certain number of students to attend a college or university regardless of its teachers' merit or reputation tends, to some extent, to lessen the need for that merit or reputation.
When the privileges of graduates in arts, law, medicine, and divinity can be obtained only by residing for a certain number of years at particular universities, a certain number of students are necessarily driven to those universities regardless of the teachers' merit or reputation. The privileges of graduates amount to apprenticeship laws, which have contributed to the improvement of education just as much as other apprenticeship laws have contributed to the improvement of arts and manufactures.
Charitable foundations providing scholarships, exhibitions, bursaries, etc. necessarily bind a certain number of students to certain colleges, quite regardless of those colleges' merit. If students supported by such foundations were free to choose the college they liked best, that freedom might stir some competition among colleges. A rule forbidding even the independent members of a particular college to leave it for another without first requesting and receiving its permission would, on the contrary, do much to extinguish that competition.
Suppose that in each college the tutor who was to teach a student all the arts and sciences was appointed by the head of the college rather than freely chosen by the student; and suppose that, if the tutor proved negligent, incompetent, or abusive, the student could not replace him without first seeking and obtaining permission. Such a rule would do much not only to extinguish competition among the tutors of the same college but also to reduce the need for any of them to be diligent or attentive to their pupils. Though well paid by their students, these teachers might be just as willing to neglect them as teachers paid nothing by their students, whose only compensation is their salary.
If a teacher has any sense, he must find it unpleasant to realize, while lecturing to his students, that he is speaking or reading nonsense, or something little better. He must also find it unpleasant to see most of his students desert his lectures, or perhaps attend them with unmistakable signs of inattention, contempt, and ridicule. If required to give a certain number of lectures, these motives alone, without any financial incentive, might lead him to take some care to make them reasonably good. Yet several expedients can effectively blunt all these incentives to diligence. Instead of explaining the subject himself, the teacher can read a book about it. If the book is written in a foreign, dead language, he may flatter himself that he is lecturing by translating it for his pupils—or, with even less trouble, making them translate it for him—and occasionally commenting on it. The slightest knowledge and effort will let him do this without exposing himself to contempt or ridicule by saying anything truly foolish, absurd, or ridiculous. Meanwhile, college discipline can enable him to compel every pupil to attend his sham lecture regularly and to behave with perfect decorum and respect throughout the performance.
The discipline of colleges and universities is generally designed not for the students' benefit but for the masters' interest—or, more accurately, their convenience. In every case its purpose is to uphold the master's authority and compel the students to treat him as if he performed his duty with the greatest diligence and ability, whether or not he actually performs it. It seems to assume perfect wisdom and virtue in one group and utter weakness and folly in the other. Yet where masters truly do their duty, I believe there is no example of most students neglecting theirs. No discipline is ever needed to compel attendance at lectures genuinely worth attending, as everyone knows wherever such lectures are given. Some force and restraint may certainly be needed to make children or very young boys attend to the subjects considered necessary for them at that early age. But after twelve or thirteen years of age, provided the master does his duty, force or restraint can scarcely ever be needed to continue any part of their education. Most young men are generous enough that, far from being disposed to neglect or despise their master's instruction if he shows a serious wish to help them, they are generally willing to forgive considerable imperfections in his performance and sometimes even to conceal substantial negligence from the public.
It should be observed that the parts of education for which there are no public institutions are generally taught best. When a young man attends a fencing or dancing school, he does not always learn to fence or dance especially well, but he seldom fails to learn to fence or dance. The benefits of a riding school are usually less apparent. Riding schools cost so much that in most places they are public institutions. The three essential parts of basic education—reading, writing, and arithmetic—are still more commonly learned in private than in public schools, and hardly anyone fails to learn them as well as is necessary.
In England, public schools are much less corrupt than universities. At school, the young are taught, or at least can be taught, Greek and Latin: everything their masters claim, or are expected, to teach. At university, the young are neither taught, nor always able to find suitable means of learning, the sciences that these corporations are supposed to teach. The schoolmaster's reward usually depends chiefly, and sometimes almost entirely, on his pupils' fees or honoraria. Schools have no exclusive privileges. To obtain the honors of graduation, a person need not present a certificate showing that he studied for a certain number of years at a public school. If an examination shows that he understands what is taught there, nobody asks where he learned it.
It might be said that the subjects commonly taught at universities are not taught particularly well. But without these institutions they would not commonly have been taught at all; both individuals and the public would have suffered considerably from the absence of these important parts of education.
Most of Europe's present universities began as ecclesiastical corporations founded to educate clergymen. Established by papal authority, they were so fully under the pope's immediate protection that all their members, masters and students alike, enjoyed what was then called the benefit of clergy: they were exempt from the civil jurisdiction of the countries in which their universities stood and answerable only to ecclesiastical courts. The teaching at most such universities suited their founding purpose: theology, or subjects intended solely as preparation for theology.
When Christianity was first established by law, a corrupted form of Latin had become the common language throughout western Europe. Both the church service and the translation of the Bible read in churches were consequently in that corrupted Latin—the ordinary language of the country. After the invasion by the barbarian peoples who overthrew the Roman empire, Latin gradually ceased to be the language of any part of Europe. But the people's reverence naturally preserves established religious forms and ceremonies long after the circumstances that first introduced and justified them have disappeared. Thus, though the great body of the people no longer understood Latin anywhere, the entire church service continued to be conducted in it. Europe therefore acquired two distinct languages, as ancient Egypt had: one for priests and one for the people, a sacred and a secular language, a learned and a common language. Priests, however, had to know something of the sacred and learned language in which they officiated; from the beginning, therefore, the study of Latin was an essential part of university education.
The same was not true of Greek or Hebrew. The infallible decrees of the church had pronounced the Latin translation of the Bible, commonly called the Latin Vulgate, to be equally divinely inspired and therefore equally authoritative as the Greek and Hebrew originals. Since knowledge of those two languages was not indispensable to a clergyman, their study was for a long time not a required part of the ordinary university course. I am told that at some Spanish universities Greek has never yet been part of that course. The first reformers found the Greek text of the New Testament, and even the Hebrew text of the Old, more favorable to their views than the Vulgate, which, as might be expected, had gradually been adapted to support the doctrines of the Catholic Church. They therefore set out to expose the many errors in that translation, forcing the Roman Catholic clergy to defend or explain them. This was difficult without some knowledge of the original languages; their study was therefore gradually introduced at most universities, whether they embraced or rejected the doctrines of the reformation. Greek was connected with every part of classical learning, which, though first cultivated chiefly by Catholics and Italians, became fashionable at about the same time as the doctrines of the reformation appeared. At most universities Greek was accordingly taught before philosophy, once the student had made some progress in Latin. Hebrew had no connection with classical learning and, apart from the Holy Scriptures, was the language of no book held in any esteem. Its study therefore usually began only after philosophy, when the student had embarked on theology.
Book V, Chapter I, 12
18th-century English
Originally, the first rudiments, both of the Greek and Latin languages, were taught in universities; and in some universities they still continue to be so. In others, it is expected that the student should have previously acquired, at least, the rudiments of one or both of those languages, of which the study continues to make everywhere a very considerable part of university education.
The ancient Greek philosophy was divided into three great branches; physics, or natural philosophy; ethics, or moral philosophy; and logic. This general division seems perfectly agreeable to the nature of things.
The great phenomena of nature, the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, eclipses, comets; thunder and lightning, and other extraordinary meteors; the generation, the life, growth, and dissolution of plants and animals; are objects which, as they necessarily excite the wonder, so they naturally call forth the curiosity of mankind to inquire into their causes. Superstition first attempted to satisfy this curiosity, by referring all those wonderful appearances to the immediate agency of the gods. Philosophy afterwards endeavoured to account for them from more familiar causes, or from such as mankind were better acquainted with, than the agency of the gods. As those great phenomena are the first objects of human curiosity, so the science which pretends to explain them must naturally have been the first branch of philosophy that was cultivated. The first philosophers, accordingly, of whom history has preserved any account, appear to have been natural philosophers.
In every age and country of the world, men must have attended to the characters, designs, and actions of one another; and many reputable rules and maxims for the conduct of human life must have been laid down and approved of by common consent. As soon as writing came into fashion, wise men, or those who fancied themselves such, would naturally endeavour to increase the number of those established and respected maxims, and to express their own sense of what was either proper or improper conduct, sometimes in the more artificial form of apologues, like what are called the fables of Aesop; and sometimes in the more simple one of apophthegms or wise sayings, like the proverbs of Solomon, the verses of Theognis and Phocyllides, and some part of the works of Hesiod. They might continue in this manner, for a long time, merely to multiply the number of those maxims of prudence and morality, without even attempting to arrange them in any very distinct or methodical order, much less to connect them together by one or more general principles, from which they were all deducible, like effects from their natural causes. The beauty of a systematical arrangement of different observations, connected by a few common principles, was first seen in the rude essays of those ancient times towards a system of natural philosophy. Something of the same kind was afterwards attempted in morals. The maxims of common life were arranged in some methodical order, and connected together by a few common principles, in the same manner as they had attempted to arrange and connect the phenomena of nature. The science which pretends to investigate and explain those connecting principles, is what is properly called Moral Philosophy.
Different authors gave different systems, both of natural and moral philosophy. But the arguments by which they supported those different systems, far from being always demonstrations, were frequently at best but very slender probabilities, and sometimes mere sophisms, which had no other foundation but the inaccuracy and ambiguity of common language. Speculative systems, have, in all ages of the world, been adopted for reasons too frivolous to have determined the judgment of any man of common sense, in a matter of the smallest pecuniary interest. Gross sophistry has scarce ever had any influence upon the opinions of mankind, except in matters of philosophy and speculation; and in these it has frequently had the greatest. The patrons of each system of natural and moral philosophy, naturally endeavoured to expose the weakness of the arguments adduced to support the systems which were opposite to their own. In examining those arguments, they were necessarily led to consider the difference between a probable and a demonstrative argument, between a fallacious and a conclusive one; and logic, or the science of the general principles of good and bad reasoning, necessarily arose out of the observations which a scrutiny of this kind gave occasion to; though, in its origin, posterior both to physics and to ethics, it was commonly taught, not indeed in all, but in the greater part of the ancient schools of philosophy, previously to either of those sciences. The student, it seems to have been thought, ought to understand well the difference between good and bad reasoning, before he was led to reason upon subjects of so great importance.
This ancient division of philosophy into three parts was, in the greater part of the universities of Europe, changed for another into five.
In the ancient philosophy, whatever was taught concerning the nature either of the human mind or of the Deity, made a part of the system of physics. Those beings, in whatever their essence might be supposed to consist, were parts of the great system of the universe, and parts, too, productive of the most important effects. Whatever human reason could either conclude or conjecture concerning them, made, as it were, two chapters, though no doubt two very important ones, of the science which pretended to give an account of the origin and revolutions of the great system of the universe. But in the universities of Europe, where philosophy was taught only as subservient to theology, it was natural to dwell longer upon these two chapters than upon any other of the science. They were gradually more and more extended, and were divided into many inferior chapters; till at last the doctrine of spirits, of which so little can be known, came to take up as much room in the system of philosophy as the doctrine of bodies, of which so much can be known. The doctrines concerning those two subjects were considered as making two distinct sciences. What are called metaphysics, or pneumatics, were set in opposition to physics, and were cultivated not only as the more sublime, but, for the purposes of a particular profession, as the more useful science of the two. The proper subject of experiment and observation, a subject in which a careful attention is capable of making so many useful discoveries, was almost entirely neglected. The subject in which, after a very few simple and almost obvious truths, the most careful attention can discover nothing but obscurity and uncertainty, and can consequently produce nothing but subtleties and sophisms, was greatly cultivated.
When those two sciences had thus been set in opposition to one another, the comparison between them naturally gave birth to a third, to what was called ontology, or the science which treated of the qualities and attributes which were common to both the subjects of the other two sciences. But if subtleties and sophisms composed the greater part of the metaphysics or pneumatics of the schools, they composed the whole of this cobweb science of ontology, which was likewise sometimes called metaphysics.
Wherein consisted the happiness and perfection of a man, considered not only as an individual, but as the member of a family, of a state, and of the great society of mankind, was the object which the ancient moral philosophy proposed to investigate. In that philosophy, the duties of human life were treated of as subservient to the happiness and perfection of human life, But when moral, as well as natural philosophy, came to be taught only as subservient to theology, the duties of human life were treated of as chiefly subservient to the happiness of a life to come. In the ancient philosophy, the perfection of virtue was represented as necessarily productive, to the person who possessed it, of the most perfect happiness in this life. In the modern philosophy, it was frequently represented as generally, or rather as almost always, inconsistent with any degree of happiness in this life; and heaven was to be earned only by penance and mortification, by the austerities and abasement of a monk, not by the liberal, generous, and spirited conduct of a man. Casuistry, and an ascetic morality, made up, in most cases, the greater part of the moral philosophy of the schools. By far the most important of all the different branches of philosophy became in this manner by far the most corrupted.
Such, therefore, was the common course of philosophical education in the greater part of the universities in Europe. Logic was taught first; ontology came in the second place; pneumatology, comprehending the doctrine concerning the nature of the human soul and of the Deity, in the third; in the fourth followed a debased system of moral philosophy, which was considered as immediately connected with the doctrines of pneumatology, with the immortality of the human soul, and with the rewards and punishments which, from the justice of the Deity, were to be expected in a life to come: a short and superficial system of physics usually concluded the course.
The alterations which the universities of Europe thus introduced into the ancient course of philosophy were all meant for the education of ecclesiastics, and to render it a more proper introduction to the study of theology. But the additional quantity of subtlety and sophistry, the casuistry and ascetic morality which those alterations introduced into it, certainly did not render it more for the education of gentlemen or men of the world, or more likely either to improve the understanding or to mend the heart.
This course of philosophy is what still continues to be taught in the greater part of the universities of Europe, with more or less diligence, according as the constitution of each particular university happens to render diligence more or less necessary to the teachers. In some of the richest and best endowed universities, the tutors content themselves with teaching a few unconnected shreds and parcels of this corrupted course; and even these they commonly teach very negligently and superficially.
The improvements which, in modern times have been made in several different branches of philosophy, have not, the greater part of them, been made in universities, though some, no doubt, have. The greater part of universities have not even been very forward to adopt those improvements after they were made; and several of those learned societies have chosen to remain, for a long time, the sanctuaries in which exploded systems and obsolete prejudices found shelter and protection, after they had been hunted out of every other corner of the world. In general, the richest and best endowed universities have been slowest in adopting those improvements, and the most averse to permit any considerable change in the established plan of education. Those improvements were more easily introduced into some of the poorer universities, in which the teachers, depending upon their reputation for the greater part of their subsistence, were obliged to pay more attention to the current opinions of the world.
But though the public schools and universities of Europe were originally intended only for the education of a particular profession, that of churchmen; and though they were not always very diligent in instructing their pupils, even in the sciences which were supposed necessary for that profession; yet they gradually drew to themselves the education of almost all other people, particularly of almost all gentlemen and men of fortune. No better method, it seems, could be fallen upon, of spending, with any advantage, the long interval between infancy and that period of life at which men begin to apply in good earnest to the real business of the world, the business which is to employ them during the remainder of their days. The greater part of what is taught in schools and universities, however, does not seem to be the most proper preparation for that business.
In England, it becomes every day more and more the custom to send young people to travel in foreign countries immediately upon their leaving school, and without sending them to any university. Our young people, it is said, generally return home much improved by their travels. A young man, who goes abroad at seventeen or eighteen, and returns home at one-and-twenty, returns three or four years older than he was when he went abroad; and at that age it is very difficult not to improve a good deal in three or four years. In the course of his travels, he generally acquires some knowledge of one or two foreign languages; a knowledge, however, which is seldom sufficient to enable him either to speak or write them with propriety. In other respects, he commonly returns home more conceited, more unprincipled, more dissipated, and more incapable of any serious application, either to study or to business, than he could well have become in so short a time had he lived at home. By travelling so very young, by spending in the most frivolous dissipation the most precious years of his life, at a distance from the inspection and control of his parents and relations, every useful habit, which the earlier parts of his education might have had some tendency to form in him, instead of being riveted and confirmed, is almost necessarily either weakened or effaced. Nothing but the discredit into which the universities are allowing themselves to fall, could ever have brought into repute so very absurd a practice as that of travelling at this early period of life. By sending his son abroad, a father delivers himself, at least for some time, from so disagreeable an object as that of a son unemployed, neglected, and going to ruin before his eyes.
Such have been the effects of some of the modern institutions for education.
Different plans and different institutions for education seem to have taken place in other ages and nations.
In the republics of ancient Greece, every free citizen was instructed, under the direction of the public magistrate, in gymnastic exercises and in music. By gymnastic exercises, it was intended to harden his body, to sharpen his courage, and to prepare him for the fatigues and dangers of war; and as the Greek militia was, by all accounts, one of the best that ever was in the world, this part of their public education must have answered completely the purpose for which it was intended. By the other part, music, it was proposed, at least by the philosophers and historians, who have given us an account of those institutions, to humanize the mind, to soften the temper, and to dispose it for performing all the social and moral duties of public and private life.
In ancient Rome, the exercises of the Campus Martius answered the same purpose as those of the Gymnasium in ancient Greece, and they seem to have answered it equally well. But among the Romans there was nothing which corresponded to the musical education of the Greeks. The morals of the Romans, however, both in private and public life, seem to have been, not only equal, but, upon the whole, a good deal superior to those of the Greeks. That they were superior in private life, we have the express testimony of Polybius, and of Dionysius of Halicarnassus, two authors well acquainted with both nations; and the whole tenor of the Greek and Roman history bears witness to the superiority of the public morals of the Romans. The good temper and moderation of contending factions seem to be the most essential circumstances in the public morals of a free people. But the factions of the Greeks were almost always violent and sanguinary; whereas, till the time of the Gracchi, no blood had ever been shed in any Roman faction; and from the time of the Gracchi, the Roman republic may be considered as in reality dissolved. Notwithstanding, therefore, the very respectable authority of Plato, Aristotle, and Polybius, and notwithstanding the very ingenious reasons by which Mr Montesquieu endeavours to support that authority, it seems probable that the musical education of the Greeks had no great effect in mending their morals, since, without any such education, those of the Romans were, upon the whole, superior. The respect of those ancient sages for the institutions of their ancestors had probably disposed them to find much political wisdom in what was, perhaps, merely an ancient custom, continued, without interruption, from the earliest period of those societies, to the times in which they had arrived at a considerable degree of refinement. Music and dancing are the great amusements of almost all barbarous nations, and the great accomplishments which are supposed to fit any man for entertaining his society. It is so at this day among the negroes on the coast of Africa. It was so among the ancient Celtes, among the ancient Scandinavians, and, as we may learn from Homer, among the ancient Greeks, in the times preceding the Trojan war. When the Greek tribes had formed themselves into little republics, it was natural that the study of those accomplishments should for a long time make a part of the public and common education of the people.
English
Originally, the rudiments of both Greek and Latin were taught in universities, and in some they still are. In others, students are expected to have learned at least the rudiments of one or both languages beforehand; their study everywhere remains a substantial part of university education.
Ancient Greek philosophy was divided into three great branches: physics, or natural philosophy; ethics, or moral philosophy; and logic. This general division seems entirely consistent with the nature of things.
The great phenomena of nature—the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, eclipses, comets, thunder and lightning, and other extraordinary events in the sky; the generation, life, growth, and decay of plants and animals—necessarily stir wonder and naturally awaken human curiosity about their causes. Superstition first tried to satisfy this curiosity by attributing all these wonders to the direct action of the gods. Philosophy later sought to explain them by causes more familiar to humanity, or at least better understood than divine action. Because these great phenomena first attract human curiosity, the science that claims to explain them must naturally have been the first branch of philosophy pursued. Accordingly, the earliest philosophers of whom history has preserved an account appear to have been natural philosophers.
In every age and country, people must have observed one another's characters, designs, and actions; many sound rules and maxims for living must have been established by common consent. Once writing became common, wise people—or those who thought themselves wise—would naturally try to add to these established and respected maxims and express their own views of proper and improper conduct, sometimes in the elaborate form of apologues, like Aesop's fables, and sometimes in the simpler form of aphorisms or wise sayings, like Solomon's proverbs, the verses of Theognis and Phocyllides, and parts of Hesiod's works. For a long time they might simply have multiplied these maxims of prudence and morality without attempting to arrange them in any distinct or systematic order, still less to join them through one or more general principles from which all could be derived, as effects are derived from their natural causes. The beauty of systematically arranging different observations and connecting them by a few common principles was first glimpsed in the crude early attempts at a system of natural philosophy. Something similar was later attempted in morals. Maxims of everyday life were systematically arranged and joined by a few common principles, as thinkers had attempted to arrange and connect natural phenomena. The science that seeks to discover and explain those connecting principles is properly called moral philosophy.
Different authors developed different systems of both natural and moral philosophy. But the arguments supporting these systems, far from always being demonstrations, were often at best weak probabilities and sometimes mere sophisms resting solely on the imprecision and ambiguity of ordinary language. In every age, speculative systems have been adopted for reasons too frivolous to sway a sensible person's judgment over even the smallest financial interest. Gross sophistry has scarcely ever affected human opinion except in philosophy and speculation, where its influence has frequently been immense. The advocates of each system of natural or moral philosophy naturally tried to expose the weakness of arguments offered for rival systems. Examining those arguments necessarily led them to consider the distinction between a probable and a demonstrative argument, and between a fallacious and a conclusive one. Logic, the science of the general principles of sound and unsound reasoning, necessarily arose from the observations prompted by such scrutiny. Though it originated after physics and ethics, it was commonly taught before either science in most, though not all, ancient schools of philosophy. It seems to have been thought that students should clearly understand the difference between good and bad reasoning before being led to reason about subjects of such importance.
In most European universities, this ancient threefold division of philosophy was replaced with a fivefold division.
In ancient philosophy, teachings about the nature of either the human mind or the Deity formed part of physics. Whatever their presumed essence, both were parts of the great system of the universe, and parts that produced the most important effects. Whatever human reason could conclude or conjecture about them formed, as it were, two chapters—admittedly very important ones—of the science that claimed to explain the origin and revolutions of the universe. But in European universities, where philosophy was taught only in service of theology, it was natural to dwell longer on those two chapters than on any others. They were gradually expanded and subdivided into many lesser chapters, until the doctrine of spirits, about which so little can be known, came to occupy as much room in philosophy as the doctrine of bodies, about which so much can be known. These two subjects came to be treated as distinct sciences. What were called metaphysics, or pneumatics, were set against physics and cultivated not merely as the more exalted science but as the more useful one for the purposes of a particular profession. The proper subject of experiment and observation, where careful attention can yield so many useful discoveries, was almost entirely neglected. The subject where, after a few simple and nearly obvious truths, the closest attention can uncover nothing but obscurity and uncertainty, and therefore produce nothing but subtleties and sophisms, was intensely cultivated.
Once those two sciences were set against each other, comparing them naturally produced a third: ontology, the science of the qualities and attributes common to the subjects of both. But if subtleties and sophisms made up most of the schools' metaphysics or pneumatics, they made up the whole of this cobweb science of ontology, which was also sometimes called metaphysics.
Ancient moral philosophy sought to investigate what constituted human happiness and perfection, considering a person not only as an individual but as a member of a family, a state, and the great society of humankind. It treated the duties of human life as serving happiness and perfection in this life. But when moral philosophy, like natural philosophy, came to be taught solely in the service of theology, it treated the duties of this life as chiefly serving happiness in the next. Ancient philosophy represented perfect virtue as necessarily producing the greatest happiness in this life for its possessor. Modern philosophy often portrayed virtue as generally, indeed almost always, incompatible with any happiness in this life; heaven was to be earned through penance and mortification, the austerities and self-abasement of a monk, rather than the liberal, generous, spirited conduct of a human being. Casuistry and ascetic morality consequently formed most of the schools' moral philosophy. Thus the most important branch of philosophy by far became by far the most corrupted.
This, then, was the usual course of philosophical education at most European universities. Logic came first; ontology second; pneumatology, treating the nature of the human soul and the Deity, third. Fourth came a debased moral philosophy, regarded as directly connected with pneumatology's teachings on the soul's immortality and the rewards and punishments to be expected in the next life from divine justice. A brief and superficial course of physics usually came last.
The changes that European universities made to the ancient course of philosophy were all intended to educate ecclesiastics and prepare them more suitably for theology. But the extra subtlety and sophistry, the casuistry and ascetic morality they introduced certainly did not make the course better suited to educating gentlemen or people engaged in the world, or more likely to improve the understanding or the heart.
This course of philosophy is still taught in most European universities, with varying degrees of diligence according to how much the constitution of each university obliges its teachers to be diligent. In some of the richest and best-endowed universities, tutors are content to teach a few disconnected scraps of this corrupted course, and commonly teach even these carelessly and superficially.
Most of the modern advances in the various branches of philosophy have not been made in universities, though some certainly have. Most universities have not even been eager to adopt those advances afterward. Several learned societies have chosen to remain, for a long time, sanctuaries for discredited systems and obsolete prejudices driven from every other corner of the world. In general, the richest and best-endowed universities have been the slowest to adopt improvements and the most resistant to any significant change in their established course of education. Improvements entered more easily at some poorer universities, where teachers dependent on their reputation for most of their livelihood had to pay closer attention to prevailing opinion.
Yet although Europe's public schools and universities were founded to educate people for only one profession, the clergy, and were not always very diligent even in teaching the subjects thought necessary for that profession, they gradually took over the education of almost everyone else, especially nearly all gentlemen and people of fortune. Apparently no better way could be found to spend usefully the long interval between childhood and the age when people seriously embark on the real business of the world, the business that will occupy them for the rest of their lives. Yet most of what schools and universities teach does not seem the best preparation for that business.
In England, it is becoming more common every day to send young people abroad to travel as soon as they leave school, without sending them to university. Our young people, it is said, generally return much improved by their travels. A young man who goes abroad at seventeen or eighteen and returns at one-and-twenty is three or four years older on his return; at that age, it is very difficult not to improve considerably over three or four years. On his travels he generally gains some knowledge of one or two foreign languages, though seldom enough to speak or write them properly. In other respects he commonly returns more conceited, less principled, more dissipated, and less capable of applying himself seriously to study or business than he could easily have become in so short a time at home. By traveling so young and spending the most precious years of his life in the most frivolous dissipation, far from his parents' and relatives' oversight and control, he almost inevitably weakens or loses altogether every useful habit his earlier education might have begun to form, rather than strengthening and confirming those habits. Nothing but the disrepute into which universities have allowed themselves to fall could have made such an absurd practice as travel at this early age respectable. By sending his son abroad, a father spares himself, at least for a time, the disagreeable sight of a son idle, neglected, and going to ruin before his eyes.
Such have been the effects of some modern educational institutions.
Different plans and institutions of education appear to have existed in other ages and nations.
In the republics of ancient Greece, every free citizen received instruction, under the direction of public magistrates, in gymnastics and music. Gymnastics was intended to toughen the body, sharpen courage, and prepare citizens for the fatigue and dangers of war; since the Greek militia was, by all accounts, among the best the world has known, this part of their public education must have fully served its purpose. Music, according at least to the philosophers and historians who describe these institutions, was intended to humanize the mind, soften the temper, and dispose people to fulfill all the social and moral duties of public and private life.
In ancient Rome, exercises on the Campus Martius served the same purpose as exercises in the Greek Gymnasium and appear to have served it equally well. The Romans, however, had nothing corresponding to the Greeks' musical education. Nevertheless, Roman morals in both private and public life seem not only to have equaled but, on the whole, considerably surpassed those of the Greeks. On their superiority in private life we have the explicit testimony of Polybius and Dionysius of Halicarnassus, two authors who knew both peoples well; the entire course of Greek and Roman history attests to the Romans' superior public morals. Good temper and moderation between rival factions seem the most essential features of a free people's public morals. Greek factions, however, were almost always violent and bloody, whereas no blood was ever shed in a Roman faction before the time of the Gracchi; from their time onward, the Roman republic may be regarded as effectively dissolved. Despite the considerable authority of Plato, Aristotle, and Polybius, and despite the ingenious reasons Mr Montesquieu gives in support of their view, it therefore seems likely that Greek musical education did little to improve their morals, since Roman morals were, on the whole, superior without it. Respect for their ancestors' institutions probably led those ancient sages to find profound political wisdom in what may have been simply an ancient custom, preserved without interruption from their societies' earliest days into an age of considerable refinement. Music and dancing are the principal amusements of almost all peoples called barbarous, and the chief accomplishments thought to qualify a person to entertain company. So it is today among the negroes on the coast of Africa. So it was among the ancient Celtes and Scandinavians and, as Homer tells us, among the ancient Greeks before the Trojan war. When the Greek tribes formed small republics, it was natural for the study of these accomplishments to remain for a long time part of the people's common public education.
Book V, Chapter I, 13
18th-century English
The masters who instructed the young people, either in music or in military exercises, do not seem to have been paid, or even appointed by the state, either in Rome or even at Athens, the Greek republic of whose laws and customs we are the best informed. The state required that every free citizen should fit himself for defending it in war, and should upon that account, learn his military exercises. But it left him to learn them of such masters as he could find; and it seems to have advanced nothing for this purpose, but a public field or place of exercise, in which he should practise and perform them.
In the early ages, both of the Greek and Roman republics, the other parts of education seem to have consisted in learning to read, write, and account, according to the arithmetic of the times. These accomplishments the richer citizens seem frequently to have acquired at home, by the assistance of some domestic pedagogue, who was, generally, either a slave or a freedman; and the poorer citizens in the schools of such masters as made a trade of teaching for hire. Such parts of education, however, were abandoned altogether to the care of the parents or guardians of each individual. It does not appear that the state ever assumed any inspection or direction of them. By a law of Solon, indeed, the children were acquitted from maintaining those parents who had neglected to instruct them in some profitable trade or business.
In the progress of refinement, when philosophy and rhetoric came into fashion, the better sort of people used to send their children to the schools of philosophers and rhetoricians, in order to be instructed in these fashionable sciences. But those schools were not supported by the public. They were, for a long time, barely tolerated by it. The demand for philosophy and rhetoric was, for a long time, so small, that the first professed teachers of either could not find constant employment in any one city, but were obliged to travel about from place to place. In this manner lived Zeno of Elea, Protagoras, Gorgias, Hippias, and many others. As the demand increased, the school, both of philosophy and rhetoric, became stationary, first in Athens, and afterwards in several other cities. The state, however, seems never to have encouraged them further, than by assigning to some of them a particular place to teach in, which was sometimes done, too, by private donors. The state seems to have assigned the Academy to Plato, the Lyceum to Aristotle, and the Portico to Zeno of Citta, the founder of the Stoics. But Epicurus bequeathed his gardens to his own school. Till about the time of Marcus Antoninus, however, no teacher appears to have had any salary from the public, or to have had any other emoluments, but what arose from the honoraries or fees of his scholars. The bounty which that philosophical emperor, as we learn from Lucian, bestowed upon one of the teachers of philosophy, probably lasted no longer than his own life. There was nothing equivalent to the privileges of graduation; and to have attended any of those schools was not necessary, in order to be permitted to practise any particular trade or profession. If the opinion of their own utility could not draw scholars to them, the law neither forced anybody to go to them, nor rewarded anybody for having gone to them. The teachers had no jurisdiction over their pupils, nor any other authority besides that natural authority which superior virtue and abilities never fail to procure from young people towards those who are entrusted with any part of their education.
At Rome, the study of the civil law made a part of the education, not of the greater part of the citizens, but of some particular families. The young people, however, who wished to acquire knowledge in the law, had no public school to go to, and had no other method of studying it, than by frequenting the company of such of their relations and friends as were supposed to understand it. It is, perhaps, worth while to remark, that though the laws of the twelve tables were many of them copied from those of some ancient Greek republics, yet law never seems to have grown up to be a science in any republic of ancient Greece. In Rome it became a science very early, and gave a considerable degree of illustration to those citizens who had the reputation of understanding it. In the republics of ancient Greece, particularly in Athens, the ordinary courts of justice consisted of numerous, and therefore disorderly, bodies of people, who frequently decided almost at random, or as clamour, faction, and party-spirit, happened to determine. The ignominy of an unjust decision, when it was to be divided among five hundred, a thousand, or fifteen hundred people (for some of their courts were so very numerous), could not fall very heavy upon any individual. At Rome, on the contrary, the principal courts of justice consisted either of a single judge, or of a small number of judges, whose characters, especially as they deliberated always in public, could not fail to be very much affected by any rash or unjust decision. In doubtful cases such courts, from their anxiety to avoid blame, would naturally endeavour to shelter themselves under the example or precedent of the judges who had sat before them, either in the same or in some other court. This attention to practice and precedent, necessarily formed the Roman law into that regular and orderly system in which it has been delivered down to us; and the like attention has had the like effects upon the laws of every other country where such attention has taken place. The superiority of character in the Romans over that of the Greeks, so much remarked by Polybius and Dionysius of Halicarnassus, was probably more owing to the better constitution of their courts of justice, than to any of the circumstances to which those authors ascribe it. The Romans are said to have been particularly distinguished for their superior respect to an oath. But the people who were accustomed to make oath only before some diligent and well informed court of justice, would naturally be much more attentive to what they swore, than they who were accustomed to do the same thing before mobbish and disorderly assemblies.
The abilities, both civil and military, of the Greeks and Romans, will readily be allowed to have been at least equal to those of any modern nation. Our prejudice is perhaps rather to overrate them. But except in what related to military exercises, the state seems to have been at no pains to form those great abilities; for I cannot be induced to believe that the musical education of the Greeks could be of much consequence in forming them. Masters, however, had been found, it seems, for instructing the better sort of people among those nations, in every art and science in which the circumstances of their society rendered it necessary or convenient for them to be instructed. The demand for such instruction produced, what it always produces, the talent for giving it; and the emulation which an unrestrained competition never fails to excite, appears to have brought that talent to a very high degree of perfection. In the attention which the ancient philosophers excited, in the empire which they acquired over the opinions and principles of their auditors, in the faculty which they possessed of giving a certain tone and character to the conduct and conversation of those auditors, they appear to have been much superior to any modern teachers. In modern times, the diligence of public teachers is more or less corrupted by the circumstances which render them more or less independent of their success and reputation in their particular professions. Their salaries, too, put the private teacher, who would pretend to come into competition with them, in the same state with a merchant who attempts to trade without a bounty, in competition with those who trade with a considerable one. If he sells his goods at nearly the same price, he cannot have the same profit; and poverty and beggary at least, if not bankruptcy and ruin, will infallibly be his lot. If he attempts to sell them much dearer, he is likely to have so few customers, that his circumstances will not be much mended. The privileges of graduation, besides, are in many countries necessary, or at least extremely convenient, to most men of learned professions, that is, to the far greater part of those who have occasion for a learned education. But those privileges can be obtained only by attending the lectures of the public teachers. The most careful attendance upon the ablest instructions of any private teacher cannot always give any title to demand them. It is from these different causes that the private teacher of any of the sciences, which are commonly taught in universities, is, in modern times, generally considered as in the very lowest order of men of letters. A man of real abilities can scarce find out a more humiliating or a more unprofitable employment to turn them to. The endowments of schools and colleges have in this manner not only corrupted the diligence of public teachers, but have rendered it almost impossible to have any good private ones.
Were there no public institutions for education, no system, no science, would be taught, for which there was not some demand, or which the circumstances of the times did not render it either necessary or convenient, or at least fashionable to learn. A private teacher could never find his account in teaching either an exploded and antiquated system of a science acknowledged to be useful, or a science universally believed to be a mere useless and pedantic heap of sophistry and nonsense. Such systems, such sciences, can subsist nowhere but in those incorporated societies for education, whose prosperity and revenue are in a great measure independent of their industry. Were there no public institutions for education, a gentleman, after going through, with application and abilities, the most complete course of education which the circumstances of the times were supposed to afford, could not come into the world completely ignorant of everything which is the common subject of conversation among gentlemen and men of the world.
There are no public institutions for the education of women, and there is accordingly nothing useless, absurd, or fantastical, in the common course of their education. They are taught what their parents or guardians judge it necessary or useful for them to learn, and they are taught nothing else. Every part of their education tends evidently to some useful purpose; either to improve the natural attractions of their person, or to form their mind to reserve, to modesty, to chastity, and to economy; to render them both likely to became the mistresses of a family, and to behave properly when they have become such. In every part of her life, a woman feels some conveniency or advantage from every part of her education. It seldom happens that a man, in any part of his life, derives any conveniency or advantage from some of the most laborious and troublesome parts of his education.
Ought the public, therefore, to give no attention, it may be asked, to the education of the people? Or, if it ought to give any, what are the different parts of education which it ought to attend to in the different orders of the people? and in what manner ought it to attend to them?
In some cases, the state of society necessarily places the greater part of individuals in such situations as naturally form in them, without any attention of government, almost all the abilities and virtues which that state requires, or perhaps can admit of. In other cases, the state of the society does not place the greater part of individuals in such situations; and some attention of government is necessary, in order to prevent the almost entire corruption and degeneracy of the great body of the people.
In the progress of the division of labour, the employment of the far greater part of those who live by labour, that is, of the great body of the people, comes to be confined to a few very simple operations; frequently to one or two. But the understandings of the greater part of men are necessarily formed by their ordinary employments. The man whose whole life is spent in performing a few simple operations, of which the effects, too, are perhaps always the same, or very nearly the same, has no occasion to exert his understanding, or to exercise his invention, in finding out expedients for removing difficulties which never occur. He naturally loses, therefore, the habit of such exertion, and generally becomes as stupid and ignorant as it is possible for a human creature to become. The torpor of his mind renders him not only incapable of relishing or bearing a part in any rational conversation, but of conceiving any generous, noble, or tender sentiment, and consequently of forming any just judgment concerning many even of the ordinary duties of private life. Of the great and extensive interests of his country he is altogether incapable of judging; and unless very particular pains have been taken to render him otherwise, he is equally incapable of defending his country in war. The uniformity of his stationary life naturally corrupts the courage of his mind, and makes him regard, with abhorrence, the irregular, uncertain, and adventurous life of a soldier. It corrupts even the activity of his body, and renders him incapable of exerting his strength with vigour and perseverance in any other employment, than that to which he has been bred. His dexterity at his own particular trade seems, in this manner, to be acquired at the expense of his intellectual, social, and martial virtues. But in every improved and civilized society, this is the state into which the labouring poor, that is, the great body of the people, must necessarily fall, unless government takes some pains to prevent it.
It is otherwise in the barbarous societies, as they are commonly called, of hunters, of shepherds, and even of husbandmen in that rude state of husbandry which precedes the improvement of manufactures, and the extension of foreign commerce. In such societies, the varied occupations of every man oblige every man to exert his capacity, and to invent expedients for removing difficulties which are continually occurring. Invention is kept alive, and the mind is not suffered to fall into that drowsy stupidity, which, in a civilized society, seems to benumb the understanding of almost all the inferior ranks of people. In those barbarous societies, as they are called, every man, it has already been observed, is a warrior. Every man, too, is in some measure a statesman, and can form a tolerable judgment concerning the interest of the society, and the conduct of those who govern it. How far their chiefs are good judges in peace, or good leaders in war, is obvious to the observation of almost every single man among them. In such a society, indeed, no man can well acquire that improved and refined understanding which a few men sometimes possess in a more civilized state. Though in a rude society there is a good deal of variety in the occupations of every individual, there is not a great deal in those of the whole society. Every man does, or is capable of doing, almost every thing which any other man does, or is capable of being. Every man has a considerable degree of knowledge, ingenuity, and invention but scarce any man has a great degree. The degree, however, which is commonly possessed, is generally sufficient for conducting the whole simple business of the society. In a civilized state, on the contrary, though there is little variety in the occupations of the greater part of individuals, there is an almost infinite variety in those of the whole society. These varied occupations present an almost infinite variety of objects to the contemplation of those few, who, being attached to no particular occupation themselves, have leisure and inclination to examine the occupations of other people. The contemplation of so great a variety of objects necessarily exercises their minds in endless comparisons and combinations, and renders their understandings, in an extraordinary degree, both acute and comprehensive. Unless those few, however, happen to be placed in some very particular situations, their great abilities, though honourable to themselves, may contribute very little to the good government or happiness of their society. Notwithstanding the great abilities of those few, all the nobler parts of the human character may be, in a great measure, obliterated and extinguished in the great body of the people.
English
The teachers who instructed young people in music or military exercises do not seem to have been paid or even appointed by the state, either in Rome or even in Athens, the Greek republic whose laws and customs we know best. The state required every free citizen to prepare to defend it in war and therefore to learn military exercises. But it left him to learn them from whatever teachers he could find and seems to have provided nothing for the purpose except a public field or exercise ground where he could practice and perform them.
In the early days of both Greek and Roman republics, the other parts of education seem to have consisted of learning to read, write, and calculate according to the arithmetic of the time. Wealthier citizens often seem to have learned these skills at home from a household tutor, generally a slave or freedman; poorer citizens learned them in the schools of teachers who taught for a living. These parts of education were left entirely to each child's parents or guardians. The state does not appear ever to have supervised or directed them. A law of Solon, however, freed children from the obligation to support parents who had failed to teach them a profitable trade or occupation.
As society grew more refined and philosophy and rhetoric became fashionable, the better-off began sending their children to the schools of philosophers and rhetoricians to learn these fashionable subjects. But the schools received no public support. For a long time they were merely tolerated. Demand for philosophy and rhetoric remained so small that the first professional teachers of either subject could not find continuous work in a single city and had to travel from place to place. Zeno of Elea, Protagoras, Gorgias, Hippias, and many others lived this way. As demand grew, schools of philosophy and rhetoric became permanent, first in Athens and then in several other cities. Yet the state seems never to have encouraged them beyond assigning some a particular place to teach, something private benefactors sometimes did as well. It seems to have assigned the Academy to Plato, the Lyceum to Aristotle, and the Portico to Zeno of Citta, founder of the Stoics. Epicurus, however, bequeathed his gardens to his own school. Until around the time of Marcus Antoninus, no teacher appears to have received a public salary or any earnings beyond the honoraria or fees paid by students. The bounty that philosophical emperor bestowed on one philosophy teacher, as Lucian tells us, probably lasted no longer than the emperor's life. There was nothing comparable to the privileges of graduation; attendance at any of these schools was not required for permission to practice any particular trade or profession. If belief in their usefulness could not attract students, the law neither compelled anyone to attend nor rewarded anyone for having attended. Teachers had no jurisdiction over their pupils and no authority except that natural authority which superior virtue and ability invariably win from the young toward those entrusted with part of their education.
At Rome, the study of civil law formed part of the education not of most citizens but of certain families. Young people who wished to learn the law, however, had no public school to attend. Their only way of studying it was to spend time with relatives and friends reputed to understand it. It may be worth noting that, although many laws of the twelve tables were copied from the laws of ancient Greek republics, law never appears to have developed into a science in any ancient Greek republic. In Rome it became one very early, and brought considerable distinction to citizens reputed to understand it. In the ancient Greek republics, especially Athens, ordinary courts consisted of large, and therefore unruly, crowds that often decided cases almost at random, or according to the dictates of clamor, faction, and party spirit. The disgrace of an unjust judgment, shared among five hundred, a thousand, or fifteen hundred people—for some courts were that large—could weigh little on any individual. In Rome, by contrast, the chief courts consisted of either a single judge or a small number of judges, whose reputations, especially as they always deliberated in public, would inevitably suffer greatly from a rash or unjust decision. In doubtful cases, such courts would naturally seek refuge from blame in the example or precedent of judges who had sat before them, in their own court or another. This regard for practice and precedent necessarily shaped Roman law into the orderly and systematic form in which it has come down to us; the same regard has had the same effect on the laws of every other country where it has existed. The superior character of the Romans compared with the Greeks, so often remarked by Polybius and Dionysius of Halicarnassus, was probably due more to the better constitution of their courts than to any cause those authors suggest. Romans are said to have been distinguished especially by their greater respect for an oath. But people accustomed to swear oaths only before a diligent and well-informed court would naturally take greater care over what they swore than people accustomed to swear before unruly, disorderly assemblies.
It will readily be admitted that the Greeks' and Romans' abilities in civil and military affairs were at least equal to those of any modern nation. Our prejudice may rather lead us to overrate them. Yet except in military exercises, the state seems to have made no effort to cultivate these great abilities; I cannot believe that the Greeks' musical education contributed much to their development. It seems, however, that teachers were available to instruct the better-off in these nations in every art and science that the circumstances of their society made it necessary or convenient for them to learn. Demand for such instruction produced, as it always does, the talent to provide it; the competition inevitably stirred by unrestricted rivalry seems to have brought that talent to a very high degree of perfection. In the attention they aroused, the command they gained over their listeners' opinions and principles, and their ability to impart a particular tone and character to those listeners' conduct and conversation, ancient philosophers seem to have far surpassed any modern teachers. Today the diligence of public teachers is corrupted to varying degrees by circumstances that make them more or less independent of success and reputation in their professions. Their salaries also put a private teacher trying to compete with them in the same position as a merchant trading without a bounty against merchants who receive a substantial one. If he sells at nearly the same price, he cannot earn the same profit; poverty and beggary, if not bankruptcy and ruin, will inevitably follow. If he tries to charge much more, he will likely find so few customers that his condition will scarcely improve. In many countries, moreover, the privileges of graduation are necessary, or at least extremely useful, to most members of the learned professions—that is, to the great majority of those who need a learned education. But these privileges can be obtained only by attending the lectures of public teachers. Even the most conscientious attendance on the ablest private teacher does not always confer any right to claim them. For these reasons the private teacher of a science commonly taught in universities is generally regarded today as belonging to the very lowest rank of learned people. A person of real ability could scarcely find a more humiliating or less profitable use for it. The endowments of schools and colleges have thus not only corrupted the diligence of public teachers but made it nearly impossible for good private teachers to exist.
Without public educational institutions, no system or science would be taught unless there was some demand for it, or the circumstances of the time made learning it necessary, convenient, or at least fashionable. A private teacher could never profit from teaching either a discredited, antiquated system within a recognized useful science, or a science universally considered a useless and pedantic heap of sophistry and nonsense. Such systems and sciences survive only in educational corporations whose prosperity and revenue are largely independent of their diligence. Without public educational institutions, a gentleman who had diligently and capably completed the fullest education his times were believed to offer could not enter the world utterly ignorant of everything commonly discussed among gentlemen and people engaged in the world.
There are no public institutions for women's education, and consequently nothing useless, absurd, or fanciful in their ordinary course of education. They learn what their parents or guardians judge necessary or useful, and nothing else. Every part of that education plainly serves some useful purpose: either enhancing their natural personal attractions or training their minds in reserve, modesty, chastity, and economy, so that they are likely to become mistresses of a household and to behave properly once they do. Throughout her life a woman gains some convenience or advantage from every part of her education. A man seldom gains any convenience or advantage, at any stage of life, from some of the most laborious and troublesome parts of his.
Should the public, then, pay no attention to the education of the people? Or, if it should pay some, which parts of education should it attend to for the different ranks of society, and how should it do so?
In some circumstances, the condition of society necessarily places most individuals in situations that naturally develop in them, without government intervention, almost all the abilities and virtues that society requires or perhaps even permits. In other circumstances, society does not place most individuals in such situations, and some intervention by government is needed to prevent the great body of the people from falling into almost complete corruption and degradation.
As the division of labor advances, the work of the great majority of those who live by labor—that is, the great body of the people—comes to be confined to a few very simple operations, often only one or two. Yet the ordinary occupations of most people necessarily shape their understanding. A person who spends his entire life carrying out a few simple operations whose results are always, or nearly always, the same has no reason to exert his understanding or exercise his ingenuity to overcome difficulties that never arise. He naturally loses the habit of such exertion and generally becomes as stupid and ignorant as a human being can become. Mental torpor makes him incapable not only of enjoying or taking part in rational conversation but also of conceiving any generous, noble, or tender feeling, and consequently of judging properly even many ordinary duties of private life. He is entirely incapable of judging his country's great and far-reaching interests; and unless special pains are taken to make him otherwise, he is equally incapable of defending it in war. The uniformity of his settled life naturally weakens his courage and makes him recoil from the irregular, uncertain, adventurous life of a soldier. It even impairs his physical energy, leaving him unable to apply his strength with vigor and perseverance to any work except the trade in which he was trained. His skill in that particular trade thus appears to be acquired at the cost of his intellectual, social, and martial virtues. Yet in every advanced and civilized society this is the condition into which the laboring poor—the great body of the people—must inevitably fall unless the government takes steps to prevent it.
It is otherwise in the societies commonly called barbarous: those of hunters, shepherds, and even farmers practicing the rudimentary agriculture that precedes the improvement of manufactures and the expansion of foreign commerce. In such societies, everyone's varied occupations compel everyone to exercise his abilities and devise ways around difficulties that continually arise. Invention remains alive, and the mind cannot sink into the drowsy stupidity that seems to benumb the understanding of almost all the lower ranks in civilized society. In these so-called barbarous societies, as already observed, everyone is a warrior. Everyone is also to some extent a statesman, able to form a reasonable judgment of society's interests and the conduct of its rulers. Almost every individual can see how well the chiefs judge in peace and lead in war. In such a society, admittedly, no one can easily acquire the highly developed and refined understanding sometimes possessed by a few people in a more civilized society. Although each person in a rudimentary society has many kinds of work, the society as a whole does not. Each does, or is capable of doing, almost everything any other does or is capable of doing. Everyone has considerable knowledge, ingenuity, and inventiveness, but scarcely anyone has these qualities to an exceptional degree. The degree generally possessed is nevertheless sufficient to conduct all the simple affairs of that society. By contrast, in a civilized society there is little variety in the occupations of most individuals but almost infinite variety across society as a whole. These varied occupations offer almost infinitely varied subjects of contemplation to the few who, attached to no occupation of their own, have the leisure and inclination to examine the work of others. Reflecting on so many different subjects necessarily exercises their minds in endless comparisons and combinations, making their understanding extraordinarily acute and wide-ranging. Yet unless these few happen to occupy very particular positions, their great abilities, honorable though they are to themselves, may do very little for the good government or happiness of their society. Despite the great abilities of those few, all the nobler elements of human character may be largely erased and extinguished among the great body of the people.
Book V, Chapter I, 14
18th-century English
The education of the common people requires, perhaps, in a civilized and commercial society, the attention of the public, more than that of people of some rank and fortune. People of some rank and fortune are generally eighteen or nineteen years of age before they enter upon that particular business, profession, or trade, by which they propose to distinguish themselves in the world. They have, before that, full time to acquire, or at least to fit themselves for afterwards acquiring, every accomplishment which can recommend them to the public esteem, or render them worthy of it. Their parents or guardians are generally sufficiently anxious that they should be so accomplished, and are in most cases, willing enough to lay out the expense which is necessary for that purpose. If they are not always properly educated, it is seldom from the want of expense laid out upon their education, but from the improper application of that expense. It is seldom from the want of masters, but from the negligence and incapacity of the masters who are to be had, and from the difficulty, or rather from the impossibility, which there is, in the present state of things, of finding any better. The employments, too, in which people of some rank or fortune spend the greater part of their lives, are not, like those of the common people, simple and uniform. They are almost all of them extremely complicated, and such as exercise the head more than the hands. The understandings of those who are engaged in such employments, can seldom grow torpid for want of exercise. The employments of people of some rank and fortune, besides, are seldom such as harass them from morning to night. They generally have a good deal of leisure, during which they may perfect themselves in every branch, either of useful or ornamental knowledge, of which they may have laid the foundation, or for which they may have acquired some taste in the earlier part of life.
It is otherwise with the common people. They have little time to spare for education. Their parents can scarce afford to maintain them, even in infancy. As soon as they are able to work, they must apply to some trade, by which they can earn their subsistence. That trade, too, is generally so simple and uniform, as to give little exercise to the understanding; while, at the same time, their labour is both so constant and so severe, that it leaves them little leisure and less inclination to apply to, or even to think of any thing else.
But though the common people cannot, in any civilized society, be so well instructed as people of some rank and fortune; the most essential parts of education, however, to read, write, and account, can be acquired at so early a period of life, that the greater part, even of those who are to be bred to the lowest occupations, have time to acquire them before they can be employed in those occupations. For a very small expense, the public can facilitate, can encourage and can even impose upon almost the whole body of the people, the necessity of acquiring those most essential parts of education.
The public can facilitate this acquisition, by establishing in every parish or district a little school, where children maybe taught for a reward so moderate, that even a common labourer may afford it; the master being partly, but not wholly, paid by the public; because, if he was wholly, or even principally, paid by it, he would soon learn to neglect his business. In Scotland, the establishment of such parish schools has taught almost the whole common people to read, and a very great proportion of them to write and account. In England, the establishment of charity schools has had an effect of the same kind, though not so universally, because the establishment is not so universal. If, in those little schools, the books by which the children are taught to read, were a little more instructive than they commonly are; and if, instead of a little smattering in Latin, which the children of the common people are sometimes taught there, and which can scarce ever be of any use to them, they were instructed in the elementary parts of geometry and mechanics; the literary education of this rank of people would, perhaps, be as complete as can be. There is scarce a common trade, which does not afford some opportunities of applying to it the principles of geometry and mechanics, and which would not, therefore, gradually exercise and improve the common people in those principles, the necessary introduction to the most sublime, as well as to the most useful sciences.
The public can encourage the acquisition of those most essential parts of education, by giving small premiums, and little badges of distinction, to the children of the common people who excel in them.
The public can impose upon almost the whole body of the people the necessity of acquiring the most essential parts of education, by obliging every man to undergo an examination or probation in them, before he can obtain the freedom in any corporation, or be allowed to set up any trade, either in a village or town corporate.
It was in this manner, by facilitating the acquisition of their military and gymnastic exercises, by encouraging it, and even by imposing upon the whole body of the people the necessity of learning those exercises, that the Greek and Roman republics maintained the martial spirit of their respective citizens. They facilitated the acquisition of those exercises, by appointing a certain place for learning and practising them, and by granting to certain masters the privilege of teaching in that place. Those masters do not appear to have had either salaries or exclusive privileges of any kind. Their reward consisted altogether in what they got from their scholars; and a citizen, who had learnt his exercises in the public gymnasia, had no sort of legal advantage over one who had learnt them privately, provided the latter had learned them equally well. Those republics encouraged the acquisition of those exercises, by bestowing little premiums and badges of distinction upon those who excelled in them. To have gained a prize in the Olympic, Isthmian, or Nemaean games, gave illustration, not only to the person who gained it, but to his whole family and kindred. The obligation which every citizen was under, to serve a certain number of years, if called upon, in the armies of the republic, sufficiently imposed the necessity of learning those exercises, without which he could not be fit for that service.
That in the progress of improvement, the practice of military exercises, unless government takes proper pains to support it, goes gradually to decay, and, together with it, the martial spirit of the great body of the people, the example of modern Europe sufficiently demonstrates. But the security of every society must always depend, more or less, upon the martial spirit of the great body of the people. In the present times, indeed, that martial spirit alone, and unsupported by a well-disciplined standing army, would not, perhaps, be sufficient for the defence and security of any society. But where every citizen had the spirit of a soldier, a smaller standing army would surely be requisite. That spirit, besides, would necessarily diminish very much the dangers to liberty, whether real or imaginary, which are commonly apprehended from a standing army. As it would very much facilitate the operations of that army against a foreign invader; so it would obstruct them as much, if unfortunately they should ever be directed against the constitution of the state.
The ancient institutions of Greece and Rome seem to have been much more effectual for maintaining the martial spirit of the great body of the people, than the establishment of what are called the militias of modern times. They were much more simple. When they were once established, they executed themselves, and it required little or no attention from government to maintain them in the most perfect vigour. Whereas to maintain, even in tolerable execution, the complex regulations of any modern militia, requires the continual and painful attention of government, without which they are constantly falling into total neglect and disuse. The influence, besides, of the ancient institutions, was much more universal. By means of them, the whole body of the people was completely instructed in the use of arms; whereas it is but a very small part of them who can ever be so instructed by the regulations of any modern militia, except, perhaps, that of Switzerland. But a coward, a man incapable either of defending or of revenging himself, evidently wants one of the most essential parts of the character of a man. He is as much mutilated and deformed in his mind as another is in his body, who is either deprived of some of its most essential members, or has lost the use of them. He is evidently the more wretched and miserable of the two; because happiness and misery, which reside altogether in the mind, must necessarily depend more upon the healthful or unhealthful, the mutilated or entire state of the mind, than upon that of the body. Even though the martial spirit of the people were of no use towards the defence of the society, yet, to prevent that sort of mental mutilation, deformity, and wretchedness, which cowardice necessarily involves in it, from spreading themselves through the great body of the people, would still deserve the most serious attention of government; in the same manner as it would deserve its most serious attention to prevent a leprosy, or any other loathsome and offensive disease, though neither mortal nor dangerous, from spreading itself among them; though, perhaps, no other public good might result from such attention, besides the prevention of so great a public evil.
The same thing may be said of the gross ignorance and stupidity which, in a civilized society, seem so frequently to benumb the understandings of all the inferior ranks of people. A man without the proper use of the intellectual faculties of a man, is, if possible, more contemptible than even a coward, and seems to be mutilated and deformed in a still more essential part of the character of human nature. Though the state was to derive no advantage from the instruction of the inferior ranks of people, it would still deserve its attention that they should not be altogether uninstructed. The state, however, derives no inconsiderable advantage from their instruction. The more they are instructed, the less liable they are to the delusions of enthusiasm and superstition, which, among ignorant nations frequently occasion the most dreadful disorders. An instructed and intelligent people, besides, are always more decent and orderly than an ignorant and stupid one. They feel themselves, each individually, more respectable, and more likely to obtain the respect of their lawful superiors, and they are, therefore, more disposed to respect those superiors. They are more disposed to examine, and more capable of seeing through, the interested complaints of faction and sedition; and they are, upon that account, less apt to be misled into any wanton or unnecessary opposition to the measures of government. In free countries, where the safety of government depends very much upon the favourable judgment which the people may form of its conduct, it must surely be of the highest importance, that they should not be disposed to judge rashly or capriciously concerning it.
Art. III.—Of the Expense of the Institutions for the Instruction of People of all Ages.
The institutions for the instruction of people of all ages, are chiefly those for religious instruction. This is a species of instruction, of which the object is not so much to render the people good citizens in this world, as to prepare them for another and a better world in the life to come. The teachers of the doctrine which contains this instruction, in the same manner as other teachers, may either depend altogether for their subsistence upon the voluntary contributions of their hearers; or they may derive it from some other fund, to which the law of their country may entitle them; such as a landed estate, a tythe or land tax, an established salary or stipend. Their exertion, their zeal and industry, are likely to be much greater in the former situation than in the latter. In this respect, the teachers of a new religion have always had a considerable advantage in attacking those ancient and established systems, of which the clergy, reposing themselves upon their benefices, had neglected to keep up the fervour of faith and devotion in the great body of the people; and having given themselves up to indolence, were become altogether incapable of making any vigorous exertion in defence even of their own establishment. The clergy of an established and well endowed religion frequently become men of learning and elegance, who possess all the virtues of gentlemen, or which can recommend them to the esteem of gentlemen; but they are apt gradually to lose the qualities, both good and bad, which gave them authority and influence with the inferior ranks of people, and which had perhaps been the original causes of the success and establishment of their religion. Such a clergy, when attacked by a set of popular and bold, though perhaps stupid and ignorant enthusiasts, feel themselves as perfectly defenceless as the indolent, effeminate, and full fed nations of the southern parts of Asia, when they were invaded by the active, hardy, and hungry Tartars of the north. Such a clergy, upon such an emergency, have commonly no other resource than to call upon the civil magistrate to persecute, destroy, or drive out their adversaries, as disturbers of the public peace. It was thus that the Roman catholic clergy called upon the civil magistrate to persecute the protestants, and the church of England to persecute the dissenters; and that in general every religious sect, when it has once enjoyed, for a century or two, the security of a legal establishment, has found itself incapable of making any vigorous defence against any new sect which chose to attack its doctrine or discipline. Upon such occasions, the advantage, in point of learning and good writing, may sometimes be on the side of the established church. But the arts of popularity, all the arts of gaining proselytes, are constantly on the side of its adversaries. In England, those arts have been long neglected by the well endowed clergy of the established church, and are at present chiefly cultivated by the dissenters and by the methodists. The independent provisions, however, which in many places have been made for dissenting teachers, by means of voluntary subscriptions, of trust rights, and other evasions of the law, seem very much to have abated the zeal and activity of those teachers. They have many of them become very learned, ingenious, and respectable men; but they have in general ceased to be very popular preachers. The methodists, without half the learning of the dissenters, are much more in vogue.
In the church of Rome the industry and zeal of the inferior clergy are kept more alive by the powerful motive of self-interest, than perhaps in any established protestant church. The parochial clergy derive many of them, a very considerable part of their subsistence from the voluntary oblations of the people; a source of revenue, which confession gives them many opportunities of improving. The mendicant orders derive their whole subsistence from such oblations. It is with them as with the hussars and light infantry of some armies; no plunder, no pay. The parochial clergy are like those teachers whose reward depends partly upon their salary, and partly upon the fees or honoraries which they get from their pupils; and these must always depend, more or less, upon their industry and reputation. The mendicant orders are like those teachers whose subsistence depends altogether upon their industry. They are obliged, therefore, to use every art which can animate the devotion of the common people. The establishment of the two great mendicant orders of St Dominic and St. Francis, it is observed by Machiavel, revived, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the languishing faith and devotion of the catholic church. In Roman catholic countries, the spirit of devotion is supported altogether by the monks, and by the poorer parochial clergy. The great dignitaries of the church, with all the accomplishments of gentlemen and men of the world, and sometimes with those of men of learning, are careful to maintain the necessary discipline over their inferiors, but seldom give themselves any trouble about the instruction of the people.
English
The education of ordinary people perhaps requires more public attention in a civilized commercial society than the education of people of some standing and wealth. People of standing and wealth are generally eighteen or nineteen years old before they enter the particular business, profession, or trade through which they hope to distinguish themselves. Before then, they have ample time to acquire—or at least prepare themselves to acquire later—every accomplishment that might win public esteem or make them worthy of it. Their parents or guardians are generally anxious for them to gain these accomplishments, and in most cases willing to pay what is needed. When such people are not properly educated, the cause is seldom a lack of spending on their education, but a poor use of the money spent. It is seldom a lack of teachers, but the negligence and incapacity of the teachers available, and the difficulty—or rather, in present circumstances, the impossibility—of finding better ones. Moreover, the occupations in which people of standing or wealth spend most of their lives are not simple and uniform like those of ordinary people. Nearly all are extremely complex, exercising the mind more than the hands. Those engaged in them can seldom grow mentally sluggish for want of exercise. Nor do the occupations of people of standing and wealth usually exhaust them from morning to night. They generally have considerable leisure in which to perfect themselves in any branch of useful or ornamental knowledge whose foundations they laid, or for which they acquired a taste, earlier in life.
Things are different for ordinary people. They have little time to spare for education. Their parents can scarcely afford to support them even in infancy. As soon as they can work, they must take up a trade that will provide their subsistence. That trade is generally so simple and uniform that it gives the mind little exercise; meanwhile, their labor is so constant and severe that it leaves them little leisure, and less inclination, to pursue or even think about anything else.
Yet although ordinary people cannot, in any civilized society, be as well educated as people of standing and wealth, the most essential skills—reading, writing, and arithmetic—can be acquired so early in life that most people, even those destined for the humblest occupations, have time to acquire them before entering those occupations. At very small expense, the public can make it easier for almost everyone to acquire these essential skills, encourage them to do so, and even require it of them.
The public can make this learning easier by establishing a small school in every parish or district, where children can be taught for a fee so modest that even an ordinary laborer can afford it. The teacher should be paid partly, but not entirely, by the public: if paid entirely, or even chiefly, from public funds, he would soon learn to neglect his work. In Scotland, the establishment of such parish schools has taught almost all ordinary people to read, and a very large proportion to write and do arithmetic. In England, charity schools have had a similar effect, though less widely, because the schools themselves are less widespread. If the books from which children learn to read in these little schools were somewhat more instructive than they usually are; and if, instead of a smattering of Latin that ordinary people's children are sometimes taught there, and that can scarcely be of any use to them, they were taught the elementary principles of geometry and mechanics, the literary education of this class of people might be as complete as it can be. There is scarcely a common trade that offers no opportunity to apply the principles of geometry and mechanics, and that would not therefore gradually exercise and improve ordinary people's grasp of those principles—the necessary introduction to the most sublime as well as the most useful sciences.
The public can encourage the acquisition of those essential skills by awarding small prizes and modest marks of distinction to the children of ordinary people who excel in them.
The public can require almost everyone to acquire the essential skills by making every man pass an examination or test in them before he can obtain the freedom of any corporation or be permitted to establish any trade, whether in a village or a chartered town.
It was in this way—by making military and gymnastic exercises easier to learn, encouraging their acquisition, and even requiring the whole population to learn them—that the Greek and Roman republics maintained the martial spirit of their citizens. They made the exercises easier to learn by designating a place for instruction and practice and granting certain teachers the privilege of teaching there. These teachers do not appear to have received salaries or any exclusive privileges. Their reward consisted entirely of what their pupils paid them; and a citizen who had learned the exercises in the public gymnasiums had no legal advantage over one who had learned them privately, provided the latter had learned them equally well. Those republics encouraged the exercises by giving small prizes and marks of distinction to those who excelled. Winning a prize in the Olympic, Isthmian, or Nemaean games brought honor not only to the winner but to his entire family and kindred. Every citizen's obligation to serve a certain number of years in the republic's armies if called upon sufficiently compelled him to learn exercises without which he would not be fit for that service.
The example of modern Europe shows clearly that, as a society advances, military exercise gradually falls into neglect unless the government takes care to sustain it, and that the martial spirit of the people declines with it. Yet the security of every society must always depend, to some degree, on the martial spirit of its people. At present, indeed, that spirit alone, without the support of a well-disciplined standing army, might not suffice to defend and secure any society. But where every citizen had the spirit of a soldier, a smaller standing army would surely be needed. That spirit would also greatly reduce the dangers to liberty, real or imagined, commonly feared from a standing army. Just as it would greatly aid the army's operations against a foreign invader, so it would obstruct its operations if, unhappily, they were ever directed against the constitution of the state.
The ancient institutions of Greece and Rome seem to have been far more effective in maintaining the martial spirit of the people than the modern institutions called militias. They were much simpler. Once established, they operated of themselves and required little or no government attention to keep them fully vigorous. Maintaining even a tolerable execution of the complex regulations of any modern militia, by contrast, demands the government's constant and laborious attention; without it, the regulations continually fall into complete neglect and disuse. The ancient institutions also had a much wider influence. Through them, the whole population was thoroughly trained in the use of arms, whereas only a very small portion can ever receive such training under the regulations of a modern militia, with the possible exception of Switzerland's. Yet a coward, someone incapable of defending or avenging himself, plainly lacks one of the most essential elements of a man's character. He is as mutilated and deformed in mind as a person is in body who has lost essential limbs or the use of them. Of the two, he is plainly the more wretched: happiness and misery reside wholly in the mind, and must therefore depend more on the mind's health or ill health, its wholeness or mutilation, than on the condition of the body. Even if the people's martial spirit were of no use in defending society, preventing the mental mutilation, deformity, and misery inherent in cowardice from spreading throughout the population would still deserve the government's most serious attention. It would deserve that attention just as preventing leprosy, or some other loathsome and offensive disease, from spreading among the people would deserve it, even if the disease were neither fatal nor dangerous, and even if preventing this great public evil produced no other public good.
The same may be said of the profound ignorance and dullness that so often seem to benumb the minds of the lower ranks in a civilized society. A man who cannot properly use his human intellectual faculties is, if possible, more contemptible even than a coward, and seems mutilated and deformed in an even more essential part of human character. Even if the state gained nothing from educating the lower ranks, it would still be worth its attention to ensure that they were not left wholly uneducated. The state, however, gains a considerable advantage from their education. The better educated they are, the less susceptible they become to the delusions of fanaticism and superstition, which among ignorant peoples often produce the most dreadful disorders. An educated and intelligent people are also more decent and orderly than an ignorant and dull one. Each person feels more worthy of respect and more likely to gain the respect of lawful superiors, and is consequently more inclined to respect them. They are more disposed, and better able, to examine and see through the self-interested grievances of factions and agitators, and are therefore less likely to be drawn into reckless or unnecessary opposition to government measures. In free countries, where the government's security depends greatly on the favorable judgment people form of its conduct, it must surely be of the highest importance that they not be inclined to judge it rashly or capriciously.
Article III—On the Expense of Institutions for the Instruction of People of All Ages.
Institutions for the instruction of people of all ages are chiefly those devoted to religious instruction. The purpose of this kind of teaching is less to make people good citizens in this world than to prepare them for another, better world in the life to come. Like other teachers, those who teach this doctrine may depend entirely for their livelihood on the voluntary contributions of their hearers, or they may receive it from some other source to which their country's law entitles them, such as a landed estate, a tithe or land tax, or an established salary or stipend. Their exertion, zeal, and industry are likely to be much greater in the first situation than in the second. In this respect the teachers of a new religion have always enjoyed a considerable advantage in attacking old, established systems. The clergy of those systems, relying on their benefices, have neglected to sustain the fervor of faith and devotion among the people; sunk in indolence, they have become incapable of any vigorous effort even to defend their own establishment. The clergy of an established, well-endowed religion often become cultivated and learned men, possessing all the virtues of gentlemen, or at least those virtues that win gentlemen's esteem. But they tend gradually to lose the qualities, both good and bad, that gave them authority and influence among the lower ranks and may originally have secured the success and establishment of their religion. When such clergy are attacked by popular and daring enthusiasts, however ignorant or foolish, they find themselves as defenseless as the indolent, soft, well-fed nations of southern Asia were when invaded by the active, hardy, hungry Tartars of the north. In such an emergency, these clergy commonly have no recourse but to call on the civil magistrate to persecute, destroy, or expel their adversaries as disturbers of public peace. Thus the Roman Catholic clergy called upon the civil magistrate to persecute Protestants, and the Church of England called on him to persecute dissenters. In general, once a religious sect has enjoyed the security of legal establishment for a century or two, it has found itself unable to defend its doctrine or discipline vigorously against any new sect that chooses to attack it. On such occasions, the established church may sometimes have the advantage in learning and fine writing. But the arts of winning popularity and converts invariably belong to its adversaries. In England these arts have long been neglected by the well-endowed clergy of the established church and are now chiefly practiced by dissenters and Methodists. Yet the independent support provided in many places for dissenting teachers by voluntary subscriptions, trust rights, and other evasions of the law seems greatly to have reduced their zeal and activity. Many have become learned, ingenious, respectable men, but they have generally ceased to be highly popular preachers. The Methodists, with not half the dissenters' learning, are far more in favor.
In the Church of Rome, self-interest keeps the industry and zeal of the lower clergy more alive, perhaps, than in any established Protestant church. Many parish clergy draw a very substantial part of their livelihood from the people's voluntary offerings, a source of revenue that confession gives them many opportunities to enlarge. The mendicant orders draw their entire livelihood from such offerings. They resemble the hussars and light infantry in some armies: no plunder, no pay. Parish clergy resemble teachers whose compensation depends partly on salary and partly on fees or honoraria from their pupils; these fees must always depend to some extent on their industry and reputation. The mendicant orders resemble teachers whose livelihood depends wholly on their industry. They must therefore employ every art that can stir the devotion of ordinary people. Machiavel observes that the founding of the two great mendicant orders of St Dominic and St. Francis revived the waning faith and devotion of the Catholic Church in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. In Roman Catholic countries, devotion is sustained entirely by the monks and the poorer parish clergy. The high dignitaries of the church, with all the accomplishments of gentlemen and men of the world, and sometimes of scholars, carefully maintain the necessary discipline among their subordinates, but seldom take any trouble to instruct the people.
Book V, Chapter I, 15
18th-century English
“Most of the arts and professions in a state,” says by far the most illustrious philosopher and historian of the present age, “are of such a nature, that, while they promote the interests of the society, they are also useful or agreeable to some individuals; and, in that case, the constant rule of the magistrate, except, perhaps, on the first introduction of any art, is, to leave the profession to itself, and trust its encouragement to the individuals who reap the benefit of it. The artizans, finding their profits to rise by the favour of their customers, increase, as much as possible, their skill and industry; and as matters are not disturbed by any injudicious tampering, the commodity is always sure to be at all times nearly proportioned to the demand.
“But there are also some callings which, though useful and even necessary in a state, bring no advantage or pleasure to any individual; and the supreme power is obliged to alter its conduct with regard to the retainers of those professions. It must give them public encouragement in order to their subsistence; and it must provide against that negligence to which they will naturally be subject, either by annexing particular honours to profession, by establishing a long subordination of ranks, and a strict dependence, or by some other expedient. The persons employed in the finances, fleets, and magistracy, are instances of this order of men.
“It may naturally be thought, at first sight, that the ecclesiastics belong to the first class, and that their encouragement, as well as that of lawyers and physicians, may safely be entrusted to the liberality of individuals, who are attached to their doctrines, and who find benefit or consolation from their spiritual ministry and assistance. Their industry and vigilance will, no doubt, be whetted by such an additional motive; and their skill in the profession, as well as their address in governing the minds of the people, must receive daily increase, from their increasing practice, study, and attention.
“But if we consider the matter more closely, we shall find that this interested diligence of the clergy is what every wise legislator will study to prevent; because, in every religion except the true, it is highly pernicious, and it has even a natural tendency to pervert the truth, by infusing into it a strong mixture of superstition, folly, and delusion. Each ghostly practitioner, in order to render himself more precious and sacred in the eyes of his retainers, will inspire them with the most violent abhorrence of all other sects, and continually endeavour, by some novelty, to excite the languid devotion of his audience. No regard will be paid to truth, morals, or decency, in the doctrines inculcated. Every tenet will be adopted that best suits the disorderly affections of the human frame. Customers will be drawn to each conventicle by new industry and address, in practising on the passions and credulity of the populace. And, in the end, the civil magistrate will find that he has dearly paid for his intended frugality, in saving a fixed establishment for the priests; and that, in reality, the most decent and advantageous composition, which he can make with the spiritual guides, is to bribe their indolence, by assigning stated salaries to their profession, and rendering it superfluous for them to be farther active, than merely to prevent their flock from straying in quest of new pastors. And in this manner ecclesiastical establishments, though commonly they arose at first from religious views, prove in the end advantageous to the political interests of society.”
But whatever may have been the good or bad effects of the independent provision of the clergy, it has, perhaps, been very seldom bestowed upon them from any view to those effects. Times of violent religious controversy have generally been times of equally violent political faction. Upon such occasions, each political party has either found it, or imagined it, for his interest, to league itself with some one or other of the contending religious sects. But this could be done only by adopting, or, at least, by favouring the tenets of that particular sect. The sect which had the good fortune to be leagued with the conquering party necessarily shared in the victory of its ally, by whose favour and protection it was soon enabled, in some degree, to silence and subdue all its adversaries. Those adversaries had generally leagued themselves with the enemies of the conquering party, and were, therefore the enemies of that party. The clergy of this particular sect having thus become complete masters of the field, and their influence and authority with the great body of the people being in its highest vigour, they were powerful enough to overawe the chiefs and leaders of their own party, and to oblige the civil magistrate to respect their opinions and inclinations. Their first demand was generally that he should silence and subdue all their adversaries; and their second, that he should bestow an independent provision on themselves. As they had generally contributed a good deal to the victory, it seemed not unreasonable that they should have some share in the spoil. They were weary, besides, of humouring the people, and of depending upon their caprice for a subsistence. In making this demand, therefore, they consulted their own ease and comfort, without troubling themselves about the effect which it might have, in future times, upon the influence and authority of their order. The civil magistrate, who could comply with their demand only by giving them something which he would have chosen much rather to take, or to keep to himself, was seldom very forward to grant it. Necessity, however, always forced him to submit at last, though frequently not till after many delays, evasions, and affected excuses.
But if politics had never called in the aid of religion, had the conquering party never adopted the tenets of one sect more than those of another, when it had gained the victory, it would probably have dealt equally and impartially with all the different sects, and have allowed every man to choose his own priest, and his own religion, as he thought proper. There would, and, in this case, no doubt, have been, a great multitude of religious sects. Almost every different congregation might probably have had a little sect by itself, or have entertained some peculiar tenets of its own. Each teacher, would, no doubt, have felt himself under the necessity of making the utmost exertion, and of using every art, both to preserve and to increase the number of his disciples. But as every other teacher would have felt himself under the same necessity, the success of no one teacher, or sect of teachers, could have been very great. The interested and active zeal of religious teachers can be dangerous and troublesome only where there is either but one sect tolerated in the society, or where the whole of a large society is divided into two or three great sects; the teachers of each acting by concert, and under a regular discipline and subordination. But that zeal must be altogether innocent, where the society is divided into two or three hundred, or, perhaps, into as many thousand small sects, of which no one could be considerable enough to disturb the public tranquillity. The teachers of each sect, seeing themselves surrounded on all sides with more adversaries than friends, would be obliged to learn that candour and moderation which are so seldom to be found among the teachers of those great sects, whose tenets, being supported by the civil magistrate, are held in veneration by almost all the inhabitants of extensive kingdoms and empires, and who, therefore, see nothing round them but followers, disciples, and humble admirers. The teachers of each little sect, finding themselves almost alone, would be obliged to respect those of almost every other sect; and the concessions which they would mutually find it both convenient and agreeable to make one to another, might in time, probably reduce the doctrine of the greater part of them to that pure and rational religion, free from every mixture of absurdity, imposture, or fanaticism, such as wise men have, in all ages of the world, wished to see established; but such as positive law has, perhaps, never yet established, and probably never will establish in any country; because, with regard to religion, positive law always has been, and probably always will be, more or less influenced by popular superstition and enthusiasm. This plan of ecclesiastical government, or, more properly, of no ecclesiastical government, was what the sect called Independents (a sect, no doubt, of very wild enthusiasts), proposed to establish in England towards the end of the civil war. If it had been established, though of a very unphilosophical origin, it would probably, by this time, have been productive of the most philosophical good temper and moderation with regard to every sort of religious principle. It has been established in Pennsylvania, where, though the quakers happen to be the most numerous, the law, in reality, favours no one sect more than another; and it is there said to have been productive of this philosophical good temper and moderation.
But though this equality of treatment should not be productive of this good temper and moderation in all, or even in the greater part of the religious sects of a particular country; yet, provided those sects were sufficiently numerous, and each of them consequently too small to disturb the public tranquillity, the excessive zeal of each for its particular tenets could not well be productive of any very hurtful effects, but, on the contrary, of several good ones; and if the government was perfectly decided, both to let them all alone, and to oblige them all to let alone one another, there is little danger that they would not of their own accord, subdivide themselves fast enough, so as soon to become sufficiently numerous.
In every civilized society, in every society where the distinction of ranks has once been completely established, there have been always two different schemes or systems of morality current at the same time; of which the one may be called the strict or austere; the other the liberal, or, if you will, the loose system. The former is generally admired and revered by the common people; the latter is commonly more esteemed and adopted by what are called the people of fashion. The degree of disapprobation with which we ought to mark the vices of levity, the vices which are apt to arise from great prosperity, and from the excess of gaiety and good humour, seems to constitute the principal distinction between those two opposite schemes or systems. In the liberal or loose system, luxury, wanton, and even disorderly mirth, the pursuit of pleasure to some degree of intemperance, the breach of chastity, at least in one of the two sexes, etc. provided they are not accompanied with gross indecency, and do not lead to falsehood and injustice, are generally treated with a good deal of indulgence, and are easily either excused or pardoned altogether. In the austere system, on the contrary, those excesses are regarded with the utmost abhorrence and detestation. The vices of levity are always ruinous to the common people, and a single week’s thoughtlessness and dissipation is often sufficient to undo a poor workman for ever, and to drive him, through despair, upon committing the most enormous crimes. The wiser and better sort of the common people, therefore, have always the utmost abhorrence and detestation of such excesses, which their experience tells them are so immediately fatal to people of their condition. The disorder and extravagance of several years, on the contrary, will not always ruin a man of fashion; and people of that rank are very apt to consider the power of indulging in some degree of excess, as one of the advantages of their fortune; and the liberty of doing so without censure or reproach, as one of the privileges which belong to their station. In people of their own station, therefore, they regard such excesses with but a small degree of disapprobation, and censure them either very slightly or not at all.
Almost all religious sects have begun among the common people, from whom they have generally drawn their earliest, as well as their most numerous proselytes. The austere system of morality has, accordingly, been adopted by those sects almost constantly, or with very few exceptions; for there have been some. It was the system by which they could best recommend themselves to that order of people, to whom they first proposed their plan of reformation upon what had been before established. Many of them, perhaps the greater part of them, have even endeavoured to gain credit by refining upon this austere system, and by carrying it to some degree of folly and extravagance; and this excessive rigour has frequently recommended them, more than any thing else, to the respect and veneration of the common people.
A man of rank and fortune is, by his station, the distinguished member of a great society, who attend to every part of his conduct, and who thereby oblige him to attend to every part of it himself. His authority and consideration depend very much upon the respect which this society bears to him. He dares not do anything which would disgrace or discredit him in it; and he is obliged to a very strict observation of that species of morals, whether liberal or austere, which the general consent of this society prescribes to persons of his rank and fortune. A man of low condition, on the contrary, is far from being a distinguished member of any great society. While he remains in a country village, his conduct may be attended to, and he may be obliged to attend to it himself. In this situation, and in this situation only, he may have what is called a character to lose. But as soon as he comes into a great city, he is sunk in obscurity and darkness. His conduct is observed and attended to by nobody; and he is, therefore, very likely to neglect it himself, and to abandon himself to every sort of low profligacy and vice. He never emerges so effectually from this obscurity, his conduct never excites so much the attention of any respectable society, as by his becoming the member of a small religious sect. He from that moment acquires a degree of consideration which he never had before. All his brother sectaries are, for the credit of the sect, interested to observe his conduct; and, if he gives occasion to any scandal, if he deviates very much from those austere morals which they almost always require of one another, to punish him by what is always a very severe punishment, even where no evil effects attend it, expulsion or excommunication from the sect. In little religious sects, accordingly, the morals of the common people have been almost always remarkably regular and orderly; generally much more so than in the established church. The morals of those little sects, indeed, have frequently been rather disagreeably rigorous and unsocial.
There are two very easy and effectual remedies, however, by whose joint operation the state might, without violence, correct whatever was unsocial or disagreeably rigorous in the morals of all the little sects into which the country was divided.
The first of those remedies is the study of science and philosophy, which the state might render almost universal among all people of middling or more than middling rank and fortune; not by giving salaries to teachers in order to make them negligent and idle, but by instituting some sort of probation, even in the higher and more difficult sciences, to be undergone by every person before he was permitted to exercise any liberal profession, or before he could be received as a candidate for any honourable office, of trust or profit. If the state imposed upon this order of men the necessity of learning, it would have no occasion to give itself any trouble about providing them with proper teachers. They would soon find better teachers for themselves, than any whom the state could provide for them. Science is the great antidote to the poison of enthusiasm and superstition; and where all the superior ranks of people were secured from it, the inferior ranks could not be much exposed to it.
English
“Most of the arts and professions in a state,” says by far the most illustrious philosopher and historian of the present age, “are such that, while advancing society's interests, they are also useful or agreeable to particular individuals. In such cases, the magistrate's consistent policy, except perhaps when an art is first introduced, is to leave the profession to itself and rely for its encouragement on the people who benefit from it. Artisans, finding that their profits rise with their customers' favor, increase their skill and industry as much as possible; and when matters are not disturbed by ill-judged interference, the supply of the commodity is always nearly proportionate to demand.
“But some callings, though useful and even necessary to a state, bring no advantage or pleasure to any individual. The supreme authority must treat those who pursue them differently. It must give them public support for their subsistence, and guard against the negligence to which they will naturally be prone, whether by attaching particular honors to their profession, establishing a long hierarchy of ranks and strict dependence, or adopting some other measure. People employed in finance, fleets, and the magistracy belong to this class.
“At first sight, one might naturally think that clergy belong to the first class, and that their support, like that of lawyers and physicians, can safely be entrusted to the generosity of individuals attached to their doctrines and finding benefit or consolation in their spiritual ministry and assistance. Such an additional incentive will undoubtedly sharpen their industry and vigilance; and their growing practice, study, and attention must daily increase their professional skill and their ability to govern people's minds.
“But look more closely, and we find that this self-interested diligence among the clergy is precisely what every wise legislator will try to prevent. In every religion but the true one it is highly pernicious, and it even tends naturally to corrupt the truth by infusing a strong mixture of superstition, folly, and delusion. To make himself more precious and sacred in the eyes of his followers, every spiritual practitioner will inspire in them the most violent hatred of all other sects and constantly seek, by some novelty, to rouse his audience's flagging devotion. The doctrines he teaches will show no regard for truth, morality, or decency. Every tenet that best appeals to the disorderly passions of human nature will be adopted. By fresh industry and ingenuity in working on the people's passions and credulity, each congregation will attract new customers. Ultimately the civil magistrate will discover that he has paid dearly for the economy he intended when he saved the cost of a fixed establishment for priests. The most decent and advantageous bargain he can really make with spiritual guides is to buy their indolence: assign their profession fixed salaries, so they need do no more than keep their flocks from straying in search of new pastors. Thus ecclesiastical establishments, though generally founded at first for religious reasons, prove in the end advantageous to society's political interests.”
Yet whatever good or bad effects an independent provision for the clergy may have had, it has perhaps very rarely been granted with those effects in mind. Periods of violent religious controversy have generally also been periods of violent political faction. On such occasions every political party has found it—or imagined it—to its advantage to ally itself with one of the rival religious sects. It could do so only by adopting, or at least favoring, that sect's tenets. The sect fortunate enough to ally with the victorious party necessarily shared its ally's victory; under that party's favor and protection, it soon gained the power to silence and subdue its opponents to some degree. Those opponents had generally allied themselves with the victorious party's enemies and were therefore its enemies too. Having thus become complete masters of the field, with their influence and authority over the people at its height, the clergy of the favored sect were powerful enough to overawe their own party's chiefs and leaders and compel the civil magistrate to respect their views and wishes. Their first demand was usually that he silence and subdue all their opponents; their second, that he provide them with independent support. Since they had generally contributed a good deal to victory, it seemed reasonable that they should share in the spoils. They were also tired of courting the people and depending on their whims for a livelihood. Thus in making this demand they looked to their own ease and comfort, without considering what it might do in later times to their order's influence and authority. The civil magistrate could meet their demand only by giving them something he would much rather have taken or kept for himself, and so was seldom eager to grant it. Necessity, however, always forced him to yield at last, though often only after many delays, evasions, and feigned excuses.
But if politics had never enlisted religion's aid—if the victorious party, after its triumph, had never adopted one sect's tenets in preference to another's—it would probably have treated all the sects equally and impartially, allowing every man to choose his own priest and religion as he saw fit. There would no doubt have been a great many religious sects. Almost every separate congregation might have formed a small sect of its own or held some distinctive tenets. Every teacher would undoubtedly have felt compelled to make the greatest effort and use every art to preserve and increase the number of his disciples. But since every other teacher would have felt the same compulsion, no single teacher or group of teachers could have achieved very great success. The active, self-interested zeal of religious teachers can become dangerous and troublesome only when society tolerates just one sect, or when a large society is divided among two or three major sects whose teachers act together under a regular discipline and hierarchy. That zeal must be entirely harmless where society is divided into two or three hundred, or perhaps as many thousand, small sects, none large enough to disturb public peace. The teachers of each sect, finding themselves surrounded by more opponents than friends, would have to learn the candor and moderation so seldom found among teachers of great sects, whose doctrines, supported by the civil magistrate, are revered by almost everyone in extensive kingdoms and empires, and who therefore see around them only followers, disciples, and humble admirers. Finding themselves nearly alone, the teachers of each small sect would have to respect those of nearly every other sect. Their mutual concessions, which they would find both convenient and agreeable, might in time bring the doctrines of most of them toward the pure, rational religion free of absurdity, imposture, and fanaticism that wise people in every age have wished to see established. Yet positive law has perhaps never established such a religion in any country and probably never will: in religious matters positive law always has been, and probably always will be, influenced to some degree by popular superstition and fanaticism. This plan of ecclesiastical government—or more properly, of no ecclesiastical government—was what the sect called Independents, undoubtedly a sect of very wild enthusiasts, proposed to establish in England near the end of the civil war. Had it been established, despite its very unphilosophical origins, it would probably by now have produced the most philosophical good temper and moderation toward religious principles of every sort. It has been established in Pennsylvania. Although Quakers happen to be the most numerous there, the law in reality favors no sect over another; and this philosophical good temper and moderation is said to have resulted.
Even if such equal treatment failed to produce good temper and moderation in all, or even most, of a country's religious sects, so long as those sects were numerous enough that each was too small to disturb public peace, the excessive zeal of each for its own tenets could scarcely have very harmful effects, but would have several beneficial ones. And if the government were firmly determined both to leave them all alone and to require each to leave the others alone, there would be little risk that they would fail to subdivide rapidly enough of their own accord to become sufficiently numerous.
In every civilized society, once distinctions of rank are fully established, two different systems of morality have always circulated at the same time. One may be called the strict or austere system; the other the liberal or, if you prefer, the lax system. The first is generally admired and revered by ordinary people; the second is usually preferred and adopted by fashionable society. The principal difference between them seems to lie in how severely we should condemn the vices of levity—those that tend to arise from great prosperity and excessive gaiety and good humor. In the liberal or lax system, luxury, wanton or even riotous merriment, the pursuit of pleasure to the point of some intemperance, and breaches of chastity, at least by one of the two sexes, etc., are generally treated with considerable indulgence and readily excused or pardoned altogether, provided they involve no gross indecency and lead to neither falsehood nor injustice. The austere system, by contrast, regards these excesses with the utmost abhorrence and detestation. Vices of levity always ruin ordinary people: a single week of thoughtlessness and dissipation is often enough to undo a poor workman forever and drive him in despair to commit the most terrible crimes. The wiser and better sort of ordinary people therefore detest and abhor these excesses, knowing from experience how immediately fatal they are to people in their position. Several years of disorder and extravagance, by contrast, will not always ruin a fashionable person. People of that rank tend to regard the ability to indulge in some excess as an advantage of their wealth, and freedom to do so without censure or reproach as a privilege of their station. They therefore disapprove little of such excesses among their own rank, and censure them slightly or not at all.
Almost all religious sects have begun among ordinary people, from whom they have generally won their earliest and most numerous converts. These sects have consequently adopted the austere system of morality almost without exception, though there have been some exceptions. It was the system best suited to recommending them to the people whom they first hoped to persuade to adopt their proposed reform of the established order. Many of them, perhaps most, have even sought esteem by refining this austere system to the point of folly and extravagance; and this excessive rigor has often done more than anything else to win them the respect and veneration of ordinary people.
By his position, a man of standing and wealth is a conspicuous member of a large society that watches every part of his conduct and thereby obliges him to watch it himself. His authority and standing depend greatly on that society's respect. He dare do nothing that would disgrace or discredit him in it, and must observe very strictly whatever form of morals, liberal or austere, its general consent prescribes for people of his rank and wealth. A man of humble condition, by contrast, is not a conspicuous member of any large society. As long as he lives in a country village, people may pay attention to his conduct, and he may have to pay attention to it himself. There, and only there, he may have what is called a reputation to lose. But once he moves to a great city, he disappears into obscurity. Nobody observes his conduct or pays attention to it, and he is therefore very likely to neglect it himself and surrender to every kind of petty vice and depravity. Nothing brings him out of that obscurity so effectively, or draws a respectable community's attention so strongly to his conduct, as joining a small religious sect. At once he gains a degree of standing he never had before. For the sect's reputation, all his fellow members have an interest in watching his conduct, and if he causes scandal or strays far from the austere morals they almost always demand of each other, they punish him with what is always a very severe penalty, even when it has no further harmful consequences: expulsion or excommunication from the sect. Accordingly, the morals of ordinary people in small religious sects have nearly always been remarkably regular and orderly, generally much more so than in the established church. Indeed, the morals of these small sects have often been unpleasantly rigorous and unsociable.
There are, however, two very simple and effective remedies whose combined operation would allow the state to correct, without force, whatever was unsociable or unpleasantly rigorous in the morals of all the small sects into which the country was divided.
The first remedy is the study of science and philosophy, which the state could make almost universal among people of middle or higher rank and wealth. It could do this not by paying teachers salaries and thereby making them idle and negligent, but by instituting some form of examination, even in the higher and more difficult sciences, that every person would have to pass before practicing any learned profession or becoming a candidate for any honorable office of trust or profit. If the state required people of this class to learn, it would not need to trouble itself with finding them suitable teachers. They would soon find better teachers for themselves than the state could supply. Science is the great antidote to the poison of fanaticism and superstition; and if all the higher ranks were protected from that poison, the lower ranks could not be much exposed to it.
Book V, Chapter I, 16
18th-century English
The second of those remedies is the frequency and gaiety of public diversions. The state, by encouraging, that is, by giving entire liberty to all those who, from their own interest, would attempt, without scandal or indecency, to amuse and divert the people by painting, poetry, music, dancing; by all sorts of dramatic representations and exhibitions; would easily dissipate, in the greater part of them, that melancholy and gloomy humour which is almost always the nurse of popular superstition and enthusiasm. Public diversions have always been the objects of dread and hatred to all the fanatical promoters of those popular frenzies. The gaiety and good humour which those diversions inspire, were altogether inconsistent with that temper of mind which was fittest for their purpose, or which they could best work upon. Dramatic representations, besides, frequently exposing their artifices to public ridicule, and sometimes even to public execration, were, upon that account, more than all other diversions, the objects of their peculiar abhorrence.
In a country where the law favoured the teachers of no one religion more than those of another, it would not be necessary that any of them should have any particular or immediate dependency upon the sovereign or executive power; or that he should have anything to do either in appointing or in dismissing them from their offices. In such a situation, he would have no occasion to give himself any concern about them, further than to keep the peace among them, in the same manner as among the rest of his subjects, that is, to hinder them from persecuting, abusing, or oppressing one another. But it is quite otherwise in countries where there is an established or governing religion. The sovereign can in this case never be secure, unless he has the means of influencing in a considerable degree the greater part of the teachers of that religion.
The clergy of every established church constitute a great incorporation. They can act in concert, and pursue their interest upon one plan, and with one spirit as much as if they were under the direction of one man; and they are frequently, too, under such direction. Their interest as an incorporated body is never the same with that of the sovereign, and is sometimes directly opposite to it. Their great interest is to maintain their authority with the people, and this authority depends upon the supposed certainty and importance of the whole doctrine which they inculcate, and upon the supposed necessity of adopting every part of it with the most implicit faith, in order to avoid eternal misery. Should the sovereign have the imprudence to appear either to deride, or doubt himself of the most trifling part of their doctrine, or from humanity, attempt to protect those who did either the one or the other, the punctilious honour of a clergy, who have no sort of dependency upon him, is immediately provoked to proscribe him as a profane person, and to employ all the terrors of religion, in order to oblige the people to transfer their allegiance to some more orthodox and obedient prince. Should he oppose any of their pretensions or usurpations, the danger is equally great. The princes who have dared in this manner to rebel against the church, over and above this crime of rebellion, have generally been charged, too, with the additional crime of heresy, notwithstanding their solemn protestations of their faith, and humble submission to every tenet which she thought proper to prescribe to them. But the authority of religion is superior to every other authority. The fears which it suggests conquer all other fears. When the authorized teachers of religion propagate through the great body of the people, doctrines subversive of the authority of the sovereign, it is by violence only, or by the force of a standing army, that he can maintain his authority. Even a standing army cannot in this case give him any lasting security; because if the soldiers are not foreigners, which can seldom be the case, but drawn from the great body of the people, which must almost always be the case, they are likely to be soon corrupted by those very doctrines. The revolutions which the turbulence of the Greek clergy was continually occasioning at Constantinople, as long as the eastern empire subsisted; the convulsions which, during the course of several centuries, the turbulence of the Roman clergy was continually occasioning in every part of Europe, sufficiently demonstrate how precarious and insecure must always be the situation of the sovereign, who has no proper means of influencing the clergy of the established and governing religion of his country.
Articles of faith, as well as all other spiritual matters, it is evident enough, are not within the proper department of a temporal sovereign, who, though he may be very well qualified for protecting, is seldom supposed to be so for instructing the people. With regard to such matters, therefore, his authority can seldom be sufficient to counterbalance the united authority of the clergy of the established church. The public tranquillity, however, and his own security, may frequently depend upon the doctrines which they may think proper to propagate concerning such matters. As he can seldom directly oppose their decision, therefore, with proper weight and authority, it is necessary that he should be able to influence it; and he can influence it only by the fears and expectations which he may excite in the greater part of the individuals of the order. Those fears and expectations may consist in the fear of deprivation or other punishment, and in the expectation of further preferment.
In all Christian churches, the benefices of the clergy are a sort of freeholds, which they enjoy, not during pleasure, but during life or good behaviour. If they held them by a more precarious tenure, and were liable to be turned out upon every slight disobligation either of the sovereign or of his ministers, it would perhaps be impossible for them to maintain their authority with the people, who would then consider them as mercenary dependents upon the court, in the sincerity of whose instructions they could no longer have any confidence. But should the sovereign attempt irregularly, and by violence, to deprive any number of clergymen of their freeholds, on account, perhaps, of their having propagated, with more than ordinary zeal, some factious or seditious doctrine, he would only render, by such persecution, both them and their doctrine ten times more popular, and therefore ten times more troublesome and dangerous, than they had been before. Fear is in almost all cases a wretched instrument of govermnent, and ought in particular never to be employed against any order of men who have the smallest pretensions to independency. To attempt to terrify them, serves only to irritate their bad humour, and to confirm them in an opposition, which more gentle usage, perhaps, might easily induce them either to soften, or to lay aside altogether. The violence which the French government usually employed in order to oblige all their parliaments, or sovereign courts of justice, to enregister any unpopular edict, very seldom succeeded. The means commonly employed, however, the imprisonment of all the refractory members, one would think, were forcible enough. The princes of the house of Stuart sometimes employed the like means in order to influence some of the members of the parliament of England, and they generally found them equally intractable. The parliament of England is now managed in another manner; and a very small experiment, which the duke of Choiseul made, about twelve years ago, upon the parliament of Paris, demonstrated sufficiently that all the parliaments of France might have been managed still more easily in the same manner. That experiment was not pursued. For though management and persuasion are always the easiest and safest instruments of government as force and violence are the worst and the most dangerous; yet such, it seems, is the natural insolence of man, that he almost always disdains to use the good instrument, except when he cannot or dare not use the bad one. The French government could and durst use force, and therefore disdained to use management and persuasion. But there is no order of men, it appears I believe, from the experience of all ages, upon whom it is so dangerous or rather so perfectly ruinous, to employ force and violence, as upon the respected clergy of an established church. The rights, the privileges, the personal liberty of every individual ecclesiastic, who is upon good terms with his own order, are, even in the most despotic governments, more respected than those of any other person of nearly equal rank and fortune. It is so in every gradation of despotism, from that of the gentle and mild government of Paris, to that of the violent and furious government of Constantinople. But though this order of men can scarce ever be forced, they may be managed as easily as any other; and the security of the sovereign, as well as the public tranquillity, seems to depend very much upon the means which he has of managing them; and those means seem to consist altogether in the preferment which he has to bestow upon them.
In the ancient constitution of the Christian church, the bishop of each diocese was elected by the joint votes of the clergy and of the people of the episcopal city. The people did not long retain their right of election; and while they did retain it, they almost always acted under the influence of the clergy, who, in such spiritual matters, appeared to be their natural guides. The clergy, however, soon grew weary of the trouble of managing them, and found it easier to elect their own bishops themselves. The abbot, in the same manner, was elected by the monks of the monastery, at least in the greater part of abbacies. All the inferior ecclesiastical benefices comprehended within the diocese were collated by the bishop, who bestowed them upon such ecclesiastics as he thought proper. All church preferments were in this manner in the disposal of the church. The sovereign, though he might have some indirect influence in those elections, and though it was sometimes usual to ask both his consent to elect, and his approbation of the election, yet had no direct or sufficient means of managing the clergy. The ambition of every clergyman naturally led him to pay court, not so much to his sovereign as to his own order, from which only he could expect preferment.
Through the greater part of Europe, the pope gradually drew to himself, first the collation of almost all bishoprics and abbacies, or of what were called consistorial benefices, and afterwards, by various machinations and pretences, of the greater part of inferior benefices comprehended within each diocese, little more being left to the bishop than what was barely necessary to give him a decent authority with his own clergy. By this arrangement the condition of the sovereign was still worse than it had been before. The clergy of all the different countries of Europe were thus formed into a sort of spiritual army, dispersed in different quarters indeed, but of which all the movements and operations could now be directed by one head, and conducted upon one uniform plan. The clergy of each particular country might be considered as a particular detachment of that army, of which the operations could easily be supported and seconded by all the other detachments quartered in the different countries round about. Each detachment was not only independent of the sovereign of the country in which it was quartered, and by which it was maintained, but dependent upon a foreign sovereign, who could at any time turn its arms against the sovereign of that particular country, and support them by the arms of all the other detachments.
Those arms were the most formidable that can well be imagined. In the ancient state of Europe, before the establishment of arts and manufactures, the wealth of the clergy gave them the same sort of influence over the common people which that of the great barons gave them over their respective vassals, tenants, and retainers. In the great landed estates, which the mistaken piety both of princes and private persons had bestowed upon the church, jurisdictions were established, of the same kind with those of the great barons, and for the same reason. In those great landed estates, the clergy, or their bailiffs, could easily keep the peace, without the support or assistance either of the king or of any other person; and neither the king nor any other person could keep the peace there without the support and assistance of the clergy. The jurisdictions of the clergy, therefore, in their particular baronies or manors, were equally independent, and equally exclusive of the authority of the king’s courts, as those of the great temporal lords. The tenants of the clergy were, like those of the great barons, almost all tenants at will, entirely dependent upon their immediate lords, and, therefore, liable to be called out at pleasure, in order to fight in any quarrel in which the clergy might think proper to engage them. Over and above the rents of those estates, the clergy possessed in the tithes a very large portion of the rents of all the other estates in every kingdom of Europe. The revenues arising from both those species of rents were, the greater part of them, paid in kind, in corn, wine, cattle, poultry, etc. The quantity exceeded greatly what the clergy could themselves consume; and there were neither arts nor manufactures, for the produce of which they could exchange the surplus. The clergy could derive advantage from this immense surplus in no other way than by employing it, as the great barons employed the like surplus of their revenues, in the most profuse hospitality, and in the most extensive charity. Both the hospitality and the charity of the ancient clergy, accordingly, are said to have been very great. They not only maintained almost the whole poor of every kingdom, but many knights and gentlemen had frequently no other means of subsistence than by travelling about from monastery to monastery, under pretence of devotion, but in reality to enjoy the hospitality of the clergy. The retainers of some particular prelates were often as numerous as those of the greatest lay-lords; and the retainers of all the clergy taken together were, perhaps, more numerous than those of all the lay-lords. There was always much more union among the clergy than among the lay-lords. The former were under a regular discipline and subordination to the papal authority. The latter were under no regular discipline or subordination, but almost always equally jealous of one another, and of the king. Though the tenants and retainers of the clergy, therefore, had both together been less numerous than those of the great lay-lords, and their tenants were probably much less numerous, yet their union would have rendered them more formidable. The hospitality and charity of the clergy, too, not only gave them the command of a great temporal force, but increased very much the weight of their spiritual weapons. Those virtues procured them the highest respect and veneration among all the inferior ranks of people, of whom many were constantly, and almost all occasionally, fed by them. Everything belonging or related to so popular an order, its possessions, its privileges, its doctrines, necessarily appeared sacred in the eyes of the common people; and every violation of them, whether real or pretended, the highest act of sacrilegious wickedness and profaneness. In this state of things, if the sovereign frequently found it difficult to resist the confederacy of a few of the great nobility, we cannot wonder that he should find it still more so to resist the united force of the clergy of his own dominions, supported by that of the clergy of all the neighbouring dominions. In such circumstances, the wonder is, not that he was sometimes obliged to yield, but that he ever was able to resist.
English
The second remedy is frequent and cheerful public entertainment. If the state encouraged everyone who, in pursuit of their own interest and without scandal or indecency, tried to amuse and entertain the people with painting, poetry, music, dancing, and all sorts of dramatic performances and exhibitions—that is, if it gave them complete freedom—it could easily dispel, among most people, the melancholy and gloomy disposition that almost always nurtures popular superstition and fanaticism. Public entertainments have always been dreaded and hated by fanatical promoters of these popular frenzies. The gaiety and good humor they inspire are wholly incompatible with the state of mind best suited to the promoters' purposes and most susceptible to their influence. Dramatic performances, moreover, often expose their devices to public ridicule, sometimes even to public condemnation; for that reason they are more particularly abhorred than any other entertainment.
Where the law favors no religion's teachers over another's, none of them would need to depend particularly or directly on the sovereign or executive power, and the sovereign would have no need to take part in appointing or dismissing them. He would need concern himself with them only to keep the peace among them, as among his other subjects: to prevent them from persecuting, abusing, or oppressing one another. Matters are quite different, however, in countries with an established or governing religion. There the sovereign can never be secure unless he has the means to influence a considerable portion of that religion's teachers.
The clergy of every established church form a great corporation. They can act in concert and pursue their interests according to a single plan and in a single spirit, just as if directed by one man; and often they are so directed. Their interests as a corporate body are never identical to the sovereign's, and are sometimes directly opposed to them. Their chief interest is to preserve their authority over the people. That authority depends on the supposed certainty and importance of the whole doctrine they teach, and on the supposed need to accept every part of it with unquestioning faith to escape eternal misery. If the sovereign is imprudent enough to appear to mock or doubt even the smallest part of their doctrine, or if out of humanity he tries to protect those who mock or doubt it, the punctilious honor of clergy in no way dependent on him is immediately offended. They denounce him as irreligious and employ all the terrors of religion to compel the people to transfer their allegiance to a more orthodox and obedient prince. If he opposes any of their claims or usurpations, the danger is equally great. Princes who have dared thus to rebel against the church have generally been charged not only with the crime of rebellion but with the further crime of heresy, despite solemn declarations of faith and humble submission to every tenet the church thought fit to prescribe to them. But religious authority is superior to all other authority: the fears it inspires overcome all other fears. When authorized teachers of religion spread doctrines that undermine the sovereign's authority among the population, he can maintain it only by violence or by a standing army. Even a standing army cannot give him lasting security in this case, since its soldiers, unless they are foreigners—which they seldom can be—must be drawn from the people, as they almost always are, and are therefore likely soon to be swayed by those very doctrines. The revolutions continually brought about by the turbulence of the Greek clergy at Constantinople while the eastern empire endured, and the upheavals continually brought about by the turbulence of the Roman clergy throughout Europe over several centuries, clearly show how precarious and insecure the sovereign must always be if he lacks adequate means of influencing the clergy of his country's established and governing religion.
Articles of faith and other spiritual matters plainly do not belong to the proper sphere of a temporal sovereign, who, though he may be well qualified to protect the people, is seldom thought qualified to instruct them. In such matters his authority can therefore seldom counterbalance the united authority of the established church's clergy. Yet the public peace and his own security may often depend on the doctrines they choose to spread about these matters. Since he can seldom oppose their decisions directly with sufficient weight and authority, he must be able to influence them; and he can do so only by arousing fears and expectations among most individual members of the clergy. Those fears may concern loss of office or other punishment, and those expectations may concern further advancement.
In all Christian churches, clerical benefices are a kind of freehold, enjoyed not at someone's pleasure but for life or during good behavior. If the clergy held them on a less secure tenure and could be removed for every small offense to the sovereign or his ministers, they might be unable to retain their authority over the people, who would see them as paid dependents of the court and could no longer trust the sincerity of their teachings. Yet if the sovereign attempted irregularly and violently to deprive a number of clergymen of their freeholds, perhaps for having spread some divisive or seditious doctrine with unusual zeal, such persecution would make both them and their doctrine ten times more popular, and therefore ten times more troublesome and dangerous, than before. Fear is a poor instrument of government in almost every case and should never, in particular, be used against a class of people with the slightest claim to independence. Trying to frighten them only inflames their resentment and hardens their opposition, which gentler treatment might easily persuade them to soften or abandon altogether. The French government's customary use of force to compel all its parliaments, or sovereign courts of justice, to register unpopular edicts very seldom succeeded. Imprisoning every resistant member, its usual method, might have been thought forceful enough. The princes of the house of Stuart sometimes used similar means to influence members of the parliament of England, and generally found them just as intractable. The parliament of England is now managed differently; and a very small experiment carried out by the duke of Choiseul on the parliament of Paris about twelve years ago showed clearly that all the parliaments of France could have been managed even more easily in the same way. The experiment was not continued. For although management and persuasion are always the easiest and safest instruments of government, while force and violence are the worst and most dangerous, human arrogance seems such that people almost always disdain the better instrument unless they cannot or dare not use the worse. The French government could and dared use force, and so disdained management and persuasion. Yet the experience of every age shows, I believe, that there is no class of people against whom the use of force and violence is so dangerous—or, rather, so utterly ruinous—as the respected clergy of an established church. Even in the most despotic governments, the rights, privileges, and personal liberty of an individual cleric in good standing with his order are respected more than those of any other person of approximately equal rank and wealth. This holds at every degree of despotism, from the gentle and mild government of Paris to the violent and furious government of Constantinople. But though this class can scarcely ever be forced, it can be managed as easily as any other. The sovereign's security and the public peace seem to depend greatly on his means of managing it, and those means seem to consist entirely in the advancement he can bestow on its members.
Under the ancient constitution of the Christian church, the bishop of each diocese was elected by the clergy and the people of the episcopal city voting together. The people did not keep their voting rights long; and while they had them they almost always followed the clergy, who appeared to be their natural guides in spiritual matters. The clergy soon tired of the trouble of managing the people and found it easier to elect their bishops themselves. Likewise, the monks of a monastery elected their abbot, at least in most abbeys. The bishop appointed clergy to all the lower ecclesiastical benefices within his diocese, bestowing them on whomever he chose. Thus every church appointment lay at the church's disposal. The sovereign might have some indirect influence on these elections, and sometimes it was customary to seek both his consent to hold an election and his approval of its outcome; but he had no direct or adequate means of managing the clergy. Each clergyman's ambition naturally led him to court not so much his sovereign as his own order, from which alone he could expect advancement.
Throughout most of Europe, the pope gradually appropriated the appointment first of almost all bishops and abbots, or holders of what were called consistorial benefices, and then, through various schemes and pretexts, of most of the lower benefices within each diocese. Little more was left to the bishop than was strictly needed to give him a respectable authority over his own clergy. This arrangement left the sovereign in an even worse position than before. The clergy of the various countries of Europe were thereby formed into a kind of spiritual army, dispersed among different regions but with every movement and operation now directed by one commander and conducted according to one unified plan. The clergy of each country could be regarded as a detachment of that army, whose operations could readily be supported and reinforced by the other detachments stationed in surrounding countries. Each detachment was not only independent of the sovereign of the country where it was stationed and by which it was maintained, but dependent on a foreign sovereign. He could at any time turn its weapons against that country's sovereign and support them with those of every other detachment.
Those weapons were as formidable as can be imagined. In ancient Europe, before arts and manufactures were established, the clergy's wealth gave them the same kind of influence over ordinary people as the great barons' wealth gave those barons over their vassals, tenants, and retainers. On the great estates bestowed upon the church through the misguided piety of princes and private individuals, jurisdictions were established of the same kind, and for the same reason, as those on the great barons' estates. On those lands, the clergy or their bailiffs could readily keep the peace without the support or assistance of the king or anyone else; neither the king nor anyone else could keep the peace there without the clergy's support and assistance. Thus the clergy's jurisdiction in their own baronies or manors was as independent of the king's courts, and as exclusive of their authority, as the jurisdiction of the great secular lords. Like the great barons' tenants, nearly all the clergy's tenants held their land at their lord's pleasure and depended entirely on their immediate lords. They could therefore be called out whenever the clergy wished to fight in any quarrel the clergy chose to pursue. Besides the rents from these estates, the clergy possessed through tithes a very large share of the rents from all the other estates in every European kingdom. Most of the revenue from both sorts of rent was paid in kind—in grain, wine, cattle, poultry, etc. The amount far exceeded what the clergy could consume themselves; nor were there arts or manufactures whose products they could obtain in exchange for the surplus. They could make use of this immense surplus only by spending it, as the great barons spent a similar surplus of revenue, on the most lavish hospitality and the widest charity. Both the hospitality and the charity of the ancient clergy are accordingly said to have been very great. They supported not only almost all the poor in every kingdom: many knights and gentlemen often had no other means of subsistence than traveling from monastery to monastery, ostensibly out of devotion but in reality to enjoy the clergy's hospitality. The retainers of particular prelates were often as numerous as those of the greatest secular lords; and the retainers of all the clergy together were perhaps more numerous than those of all the secular lords. There was always much greater unity among the clergy than among the secular lords. The former were bound by a regular discipline and hierarchy under papal authority. The latter were bound by no regular discipline or hierarchy, but were almost always as jealous of each other as they were of the king. Thus even if the clergy's tenants and retainers together had been less numerous than those of the great secular lords—and their tenants probably were much less numerous—their unity would have made them more formidable. Moreover, the clergy's hospitality and charity not only gave them command of a great worldly force but vastly increased the power of their spiritual weapons. These virtues won them the highest respect and veneration among the lower ranks, many of whom were constantly, and almost all occasionally, fed by them. Everything belonging or connected to so popular an order—its property, its privileges, its doctrines—necessarily seemed sacred to ordinary people; any violation of these, real or alleged, seemed the greatest act of sacrilege and impiety. If in these circumstances the sovereign often found it hard to resist an alliance of a few great nobles, it is no wonder that he found it even harder to resist the united force of his own clergy, supported by the clergy of all neighboring dominions. The wonder is not that he was sometimes obliged to yield, but that he was ever able to resist.
Book V, Chapter I, 17
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The privileges of the clergy in those ancient times (which to us, who live in the present times, appear the most absurd), their total exemption from the secular jurisdiction, for example, or what in England was called the benefit of clergy, were the natural, or rather the necessary, consequences of this state of things. How dangerous must it have been for the sovereign to attempt to punish a clergyman for any crime whatever, if his order were disposed to protect him, and to represent either the proof as insufficient for convicting so holy a man, or the punishment as too severe to be inflicted upon one whose person had been rendered sacred by religion? The sovereign could, in such circumstances, do no better than leave him to be tried by the ecclesiastical courts, who, for the honour of their own order, were interested to restrain, as much as possible, every member of it from committing enormous crimes, or even from giving occasion to such gross scandal as might disgust the minds of the people.
In the state in which things were, through the greater part of Europe, during the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, and for some time both before and after that period, the constitution of the church of Rome may be considered as the most formidable combination that ever was formed against the authority and security of civil government, as well as against the liberty, reason, and happiness of mankind, which can flourish only where civil government is able to protect them. In that constitution, the grossest delusions of superstition were supported in such a manner by the private interests of so great a number of people, as put them out of all danger from any assault of human reason; because, though human reason might, perhaps, have been able to unveil, even to the eyes of the common people, some of the delusions of superstition, it could never have dissolved the ties of private interest. Had this constitution been attacked by no other enemies but the feeble efforts of human reason, it must have endured for ever. But that immense and well-built fabric, which all the wisdom and virtue of man could never have shaken, much less have overturned, was, by the natural course of things, first weakened, and afterwards in part destroyed; and is now likely, in the course of a few centuries more, perhaps, to crumble into ruins altogether.
The gradual improvements of arts, manufactures, and commerce, the same causes which destroyed the power of the great barons, destroyed, in the same manner, through the greater part of Europe, the whole temporal power of the clergy. In the produce of arts, manufactures, and commerce, the clergy, like the great barons, found something for which they could exchange their rude produce, and thereby discovered the means of spending their whole revenues upon their own persons, without giving any considerable share of them to other people. Their charity became gradually less extensive, their hospitality less liberal, or less profuse. Their retainers became consequently less numerous, and, by degrees, dwindled away altogether. The clergy, too, like the great barons, wished to get a better rent from their landed estates, in order to spend it, in the same manner, upon the gratification of their own private vanity and folly. But this increase of rent could be got only by granting leases to their tenants, who thereby became, in a great measure, independent of them. The ties of interest, which bound the inferior ranks of people to the clergy, were in this manner gradually broken and dissolved. They were even broken and dissolved sooner than those which bound the same ranks of people to the great barons; because the benefices of the church being, the greater part of them, much smaller than the estates of the great barons, the possessor of each benefice was much sooner able to spend the whole of its revenue upon his own person. During the greater part of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the power of the great barons was, through the greater part of Europe, in full vigour. But the temporal power of the clergy, the absolute command which they had once had over the great body of the people was very much decayed. The power of the church was, by that time, very nearly reduced, through the greater part of Europe, to what arose from their spiritual authority; and even that spiritual authority was much weakened, when it ceased to be supported by the charity and hospitality of the clergy. The inferior ranks of people no longer looked upon that order as they had done before; as the comforters of their distress, and the relievers of their indigence. On the contrary, they were provoked and disgusted by the vanity, luxury, and expense of the richer clergy, who appeared to spend upon their own pleasures what had always before been regarded as the patrimony of the poor.
In this situation of things, the sovereigns in the different states of Europe endeavoured to recover the influence which they had once had in the disposal of the great benefices of the church; by procuring to the deans and chapters of each diocese the restoration of their ancient right of electing the bishop; and to the monks of each abbacy that of electing the abbot. The re-establishing this ancient order was the object of several statutes enacted in England during the course of the fourteenth century, particularly of what is called the statute of provisors; and of the pragmatic sanction, established in France in the fifteenth century. In order to render the election valid, it was necessary that the sovereign should both consent to it before hand, and afterwards approve of the person elected; and though the election was still supposed to be free, he had, however all the indirect means which his situation necessarily afforded him, of influencing the clergy in his own dominions. Other regulations, of a similar tendency, were established in other parts of Europe. But the power of the pope, in the collation of the great benefices of the church, seems, before the reformation, to have been nowhere so effectually and so universally restrained as in France and England. The concordat afterwards, in the sixteenth century, gave to the kings of France the absolute right of presenting to all the great, or what are called the consistorial, benefices of the Gallican church.
Since the establishment of the pragmatic sanction and of the concordat, the clergy of France have in general shewn less respect to the decrees of the papal court, than the clergy of any other catholic country. In all the disputes which their sovereign has had with the pope, they have almost constantly taken part with the former. This independency of the clergy of France upon the court of Rome seems to be principally founded upon the pragmatic sanction and the concordat. In the earlier periods of the monarchy, the clergy of France appear to have been as much devoted to the pope as those of any other country. When Robert, the second prince of the Capetian race, was most unjustly excommunicated by the court of Rome, his own servants, it is said, threw the victuals which came from his table to the dogs, and refused to taste any thing themselves which had been polluted by the contact of a person in his situation. They were taught to do so, it may very safely be presumed, by the clergy of his own dominions.
The claim of collating to the great benefices of the church, a claim in defence of which the court of Rome had frequently shaken, and sometimes overturned, the thrones of some of the greatest sovereigns in Christendom, was in this manner either restrained or modified, or given up altogether, in many different parts of Europe, even before the time of the reformation. As the clergy had now less influence over the people, so the state had more influence over the clergy. The clergy, therefore, had both less power, and less inclination, to disturb the state.
The authority of the church of Rome was in this state of declension, when the disputes which gave birth to the reformation began in Germany, and soon spread themselves through every part of Europe. The new doctrines were everywhere received with a high degree of popular favour. They were propagated with all that enthusiastic zeal which commonly animates the spirit of party, when it attacks established authority. The teachers of those doctrines, though perhaps, in other respects, not more learned than many of the divines who defended the established church, seem in general to have been better acquainted with ecclesiastical history, and with the origin and progress of that system of opinions upon which the authority of the church was established; and they had thereby the advantage in almost every dispute. The austerity of their manners gave them authority with the common people, who contrasted the strict regularity of their conduct with the disorderly lives of the greater part of their own clergy. They possessed, too, in a much higher degree than their adversaries, all the arts of popularity and of gaining proselytes; arts which the lofty and dignified sons of the church had long neglected, as being to them in a great measure useless. The reason of the new doctrines recommended them to some, their novelty to many; the hatred and contempt of the established clergy to a still greater number: but the zealous, passionate, and fanatical, though frequently coarse and rustic eloquence, with which they were almost everywhere inculcated, recommended them to by far the greatest number.
The success of the new doctrines was almost everywhere so great, that the princes, who at that time happened to be on bad terms with the court of Rome, were, by means of them, easily enabled, in their own dominions, to overturn the church, which having lost the respect and veneration of the inferior ranks of people, could make scarce any resistance. The court of Rome had disobliged some of the smaller princes in the northern parts of Germany, whom it had probably considered as too insignificant to be worth the managing. They universally, therefore, established the reformation in their own dominions. The tyranny of Christiern II., and of Troll archbishop of Upsal, enabled Gustavus Vasa to expel them both from Sweden. The pope favoured the tyrant and the archbishop, and Gustavus Vasa found no difficulty in establishing the reformation in Sweden. Christiern II. was afterwards deposed from the throne of Denmark, where his conduct had rendered him as odious as in Sweden. The pope, however, was still disposed to favour him; and Frederic of Holstein, who had mounted the throne in his stead, revenged himself, by following the example of Gustavus Vasa. The magistrates of Berne and Zurich, who had no particular quarrel with the pope, established with great ease the reformation in their respective cantons, where just before some of the clergy had, by an imposture somewhat grosser than ordinary, rendered the whole order both odious and contemptible.
In this critical situation of its affairs the papal court was at sufficient pains to cultivate the friendship of the powerful sovereigns of France and Spain, of whom the latter was at that time emperor of Germany. With their assistance, it was enabled, though not without great difficulty, and much bloodshed, either to suppress altogether, or to obstruct very much, the progress of the reformation in their dominions. It was well enough inclined, too, to be complaisant to the king of England. But from the circumstances of the times, it could not be so without giving offence to a still greater sovereign, Charles V., king of Spain and emperor of Germany. Henry VIII., accordingly, though he did not embrace himself the greater part of the doctrines of the reformation, was yet enabled, by their general prevalence, to suppress all the monasteries, and to abolish the authority of the church of Rome in his dominions. That he should go so far, though he went no further, gave some satisfaction to the patrons of the reformation, who, having got possession of the government in the reign of his son and successor completed, without any difficulty, the work which Henry VIII. had begun.
In some countries, as in Scotland, where the government was weak, unpopular, and not very firmly established, the reformation was strong enough to overturn, not only the church, but the state likewise, for attempting to support the church.
Among the followers of the reformation, dispersed in all the different countries of Europe, there was no general tribunal, which, like that of the court of Rome, or an oecumenical council, could settle all disputes among them, and, with irresistible authority, prescribe to all of them the precise limits of orthodoxy. When the followers of the reformation in one country, therefore, happened to differ from their brethren in another, as they had no common judge to appeal to, the dispute could never be decided; and many such disputes arose among them. Those concerning the government of the church, and the right of conferring ecclesiastical benefices, were perhaps the most interesting to the peace and welfare of civil society. They gave birth, accordingly, to the two principal parties or sects among the followers of the reformation, the Lutheran and Calvinistic sects, the only sects among them, of which the doctrine and discipline have ever yet been established by law in any part of Europe.
The followers of Luther, together with what is called the church of England, preserved more or less of the episcopal government, established subordination among the clergy, gave the sovereign the disposal of all the bishoprics, and other consistorial benefices within his dominions, and thereby rendered him the real head of the church; and without depriving the bishop of the right of collating to the smaller benefices within his diocese, they, even to those benefices, not only admitted, but favoured the right of presentation, both in the sovereign and in all other lay patrons. This system of church government was, from the beginning, favourable to peace and good order, and to submission to the civil sovereign. It has never, accordingly, been the occasion of any tumult or civil commotion in any country in which it has once been established. The church of England, in particular, has always valued herself, with great reason, upon the unexceptionable loyalty of her principles. Under such a government, the clergy naturally endeavour to recommend themselves to the sovereign, to the court, and to the nobility and gentry of the country, by whose influence they chiefly expect to obtain preferment. They pay court to those patrons, sometimes, no doubt, by the vilest flattery and assentation; but frequently, too, by cultivating all those arts which best deserve, and which are therefore most likely to gain them, the esteem of people of rank and fortune; by their knowledge in all the different branches of useful and ornamental learning, by the decent liberality of their manners, by the social good humour of their conversation, and by their avowed contempt of those absurd and hypocritical austerities which fanatics inculcate and pretend to practise, in order to draw upon themselves the veneration, and upon the greater part of men of rank and fortune, who avow that they do not practise them, the abhorrence of the common people. Such a clergy, however, while they pay their court in this manner to the higher ranks of life, are very apt to neglect altogether the means of maintaining their influence and authority with the lower. They are listened to, esteemed, and respected by their superiors; but before their inferiors they are frequently incapable of defending, effectually, and to the conviction of such hearers, their own sober and moderate doctrines, against the most ignorant enthusiast who chooses to attack them.
English
The privileges of the clergy in those ancient times—privileges that appear most absurd to us today—were natural, or rather necessary, consequences of this state of affairs. Consider their complete exemption from secular jurisdiction, for example, or what was called in England the benefit of clergy. How dangerous would it have been for a sovereign to attempt to punish a clergyman for any crime, if his order was disposed to protect him and to maintain either that the evidence could not convict so holy a man or that the punishment was too severe for a person whom religion had made sacred? In such circumstances the sovereign could do no better than leave his trial to the ecclesiastical courts. For the honor of their own order, these courts had an interest in restraining their members, as far as possible, from committing grave crimes or even provoking the kind of gross scandal that might disgust the people.
Throughout most of Europe in the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, and for some time before and after, the constitution of the church of Rome may be regarded as the most formidable alliance ever formed against the authority and security of civil government, and against the liberty, reason, and happiness of mankind, which can flourish only where civil government is capable of protecting them. Under that constitution, the grossest superstitious delusions were so firmly supported by the private interests of so many people that they were safe from every assault of human reason. Reason might perhaps have exposed some of those delusions even to ordinary people, but it could never have dissolved the bonds of private interest. If this constitution had faced no enemy but the feeble efforts of human reason, it would have endured forever. Yet that immense, well-built structure, which all human wisdom and virtue could never have shaken, much less overturned, was first weakened and then partly destroyed by the natural course of events; and within a few more centuries it may perhaps crumble altogether into ruins.
The gradual improvement of arts, manufactures, and commerce—the very causes that destroyed the power of the great barons—likewise destroyed the clergy's entire temporal power throughout most of Europe. In the products of arts, manufactures, and commerce, the clergy, like the great barons, found goods for which they could exchange their crude produce. They thus discovered how to spend their whole revenue on themselves without giving any substantial share to others. Their charity gradually reached fewer people, and their hospitality became less generous, or less lavish. Their retainers consequently grew fewer until, by degrees, they disappeared altogether. Like the great barons, the clergy also wanted a higher rent from their estates, to spend in the same way on their own private vanity and folly. But they could obtain this increase only by granting leases to their tenants, who thereby became largely independent of them. The bonds of interest that had tied the lower ranks to the clergy were thus gradually broken and dissolved. Indeed, they dissolved sooner than the bonds tying those same people to the great barons: most church benefices were much smaller than the barons' estates, and the holder of each benefice could therefore sooner spend its entire revenue on himself. Throughout most of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the great barons retained their full power in much of Europe. But the clergy's temporal power—the absolute command they once held over the great body of the people—had greatly declined. By then, throughout most of Europe, the church's power had been reduced almost entirely to its spiritual authority; and even that authority was greatly weakened when the clergy's charity and hospitality ceased to sustain it. The lower ranks no longer regarded the clergy as they once had, as comforters in their distress and relievers of their poverty. Instead they were offended and disgusted by the vanity, luxury, and extravagance of the richer clergy, who seemed to spend on their own pleasures what had always been regarded as the patrimony of the poor.
In these circumstances, the sovereigns of the different European states sought to recover their former influence over appointments to the great benefices of the church. They secured for the deans and chapters of each diocese the restoration of their ancient right to elect the bishop, and for the monks of each abbey the right to elect the abbot. Several statutes enacted in England during the fourteenth century, particularly the statute of provisors, aimed to restore this ancient order; so did the pragmatic sanction established in France in the fifteenth century. To make an election valid, the sovereign had to consent to it beforehand and approve the elected person afterward. Although the election was still supposed to be free, the sovereign could use all the indirect means afforded by his position to influence the clergy within his dominions. Similar regulations were introduced elsewhere in Europe. But before the reformation, the pope's power to confer the great church benefices seems nowhere to have been restrained so effectively and universally as in France and England. Later, in the sixteenth century, the concordat gave the kings of France an absolute right to nominate candidates to all the great, or so-called consistorial, benefices of the Gallican church.
Since the establishment of the pragmatic sanction and the concordat, the clergy of France have generally shown less respect for the decrees of the papal court than the clergy of any other Catholic country. In nearly every dispute between their sovereign and the pope, they have sided with their sovereign. This independence of the French clergy from the court of Rome appears to rest principally on the pragmatic sanction and the concordat. In the monarchy's earlier days, the French clergy seem to have been as devoted to the pope as those of any other country. When Robert, the second ruler of the Capetian line, was most unjustly excommunicated by the court of Rome, even his own servants are said to have thrown the food from his table to the dogs and refused to taste anything themselves that had been polluted by contact with a man in his position. We can safely presume that the clergy of his own dominions taught them to do so.
Rome's claim to confer the great benefices of the church—a claim in defense of which its court had often shaken, and sometimes overturned, the thrones of some of Christendom's greatest sovereigns—was thus restricted, modified, or surrendered altogether in many parts of Europe even before the reformation. As the clergy's influence over the people declined, the state's influence over the clergy increased. The clergy therefore had both less power and less inclination to disturb the state.
The authority of the church of Rome was already declining when the disputes that gave rise to the reformation began in Germany and soon spread throughout Europe. The new doctrines were everywhere received with great popular favor. They were spread with all the passionate zeal that commonly animates a party when it attacks established authority. Though the teachers of these doctrines may not otherwise have been more learned than many divines who defended the established church, they seem generally to have known more about ecclesiastical history and the origin and development of the system of beliefs on which the church's authority rested. They thus had the advantage in nearly every dispute. Their austere manners gave them authority among ordinary people, who contrasted the strict discipline of their conduct with the disorderly lives of much of their own clergy. They also surpassed their opponents in every art of winning popularity and gaining converts—arts the proud and dignified sons of the church had long neglected as largely useless to them. Reason recommended the new doctrines to some, novelty to many, and hatred and contempt of the established clergy to a still greater number. But by far the greatest number were won by the zealous, passionate, fanatical, and often coarse and rustic eloquence with which the doctrines were preached almost everywhere.
The new doctrines succeeded so widely that princes then on bad terms with the court of Rome could readily use them to overthrow the church in their own dominions. Having lost the respect and reverence of the lower ranks, that church could scarcely resist. The court of Rome had offended several lesser princes in northern Germany, probably considering them too insignificant to cultivate. Accordingly, they all established the reformation in their dominions. The tyranny of Christiern II. and of Troll, archbishop of Upsal, enabled Gustavus Vasa to drive both from Sweden. The pope supported the tyrant and the archbishop, and Gustavus Vasa had no difficulty establishing the reformation there. Christiern II. was subsequently deposed from the throne of Denmark, where his conduct had made him as hated as he was in Sweden. Yet the pope remained disposed to support him; Frederic of Holstein, who had taken his place on the throne, avenged himself by following Gustavus Vasa's example. The magistrates of Berne and Zurich, though they had no particular quarrel with the pope, established the reformation with great ease in their respective cantons. There, shortly before, some of the clergy had made their whole order both hateful and contemptible by a fraud cruder than usual.
At this critical moment, the papal court took considerable pains to cultivate the friendship of the powerful sovereigns of France and Spain, the latter of whom was then emperor of Germany. With their help, it managed, though only with great difficulty and much bloodshed, either to suppress the reformation altogether or to obstruct its progress substantially in their dominions. It was also quite willing to accommodate the king of England. But under the circumstances it could not do so without offending a still greater sovereign, Charles V., king of Spain and emperor of Germany. Thus Henry VIII., although he did not himself embrace most of the reformation's doctrines, was enabled by their general spread to suppress all the monasteries and abolish the authority of the church of Rome in his dominions. His going so far, even though he went no further, gave some satisfaction to the reformation's supporters. Having gained control of the government in the reign of his son and successor, they completed without difficulty the work Henry VIII. had begun.
In some countries, such as Scotland, where the government was weak, unpopular, and not firmly established, the reformation was strong enough to overthrow not only the church but also the state for attempting to support it.
The followers of the reformation, scattered across the various countries of Europe, had no general tribunal like the court of Rome or an ecumenical council to settle all their disputes and prescribe to them, with irresistible authority, the precise limits of orthodoxy. When followers in one country disagreed with their brethren in another, they had no common judge to whom they could appeal, so their dispute could never be decided. Many such disputes arose. Those concerning church government and the right to confer ecclesiastical benefices were perhaps the most consequential for the peace and welfare of civil society. Accordingly, they gave rise to the two principal parties or sects among the reformation's followers: the Lutheran and Calvinistic sects, the only ones among them whose doctrines and discipline have yet been established by law anywhere in Europe.
The followers of Luther, together with what is called the church of England, retained episcopal government to varying degrees, established a hierarchy among the clergy, and gave the sovereign the power to dispose of all bishoprics and other consistorial benefices within his dominions, thereby making him the real head of the church. Without depriving bishops of the right to confer the smaller benefices in their dioceses, they not only admitted but encouraged the right of presentation to those benefices both for the sovereign and for all other lay patrons. From the beginning, this system of church government favored peace, good order, and submission to the civil sovereign. Accordingly, once established in a country, it has never caused tumult or civil unrest there. The church of England in particular has always prided itself, with good reason, on the unquestionable loyalty of its principles. Under such a government, the clergy naturally seek favor with the sovereign, the court, and the country's nobility and gentry, on whose influence they chiefly rely for advancement. Sometimes, no doubt, they court these patrons through the vilest flattery and servile agreement. Often, however, they cultivate the qualities that best deserve, and are therefore most likely to gain, the esteem of people of rank and fortune: knowledge across the useful and cultivated branches of learning, becoming generosity of manner, sociable good humor in conversation, and open contempt for the absurd, hypocritical austerities that fanatics preach and profess to practice. The fanatics use these pretenses to draw the veneration of ordinary people upon themselves and their abhorrence upon most people of rank and fortune, who openly admit they do not practice such austerities. But clergy who court the higher ranks in this fashion are very liable to neglect altogether the means of retaining influence and authority among the lower ranks. Their superiors listen to, esteem, and respect them; yet before their inferiors they are often incapable of defending their own sober and moderate doctrines effectively, and to their hearers' conviction, against the most ignorant enthusiast who chooses to attack them.
Book V, Chapter I, 18
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The followers of Zuinglius, or more properly those of Calvin, on the contrary, bestowed upon the people of each parish, whenever the church became vacant, the right of electing their own pastor; and established, at the same time, the most perfect equality among the clergy. The former part of this institution, as long as it remained in vigour, seems to have been productive of nothing but disorder and confusion, and to have tended equally to corrupt the morals both of the clergy and of the people. The latter part seems never to have had any effects but what were perfectly agreeable.
As long as the people of each parish preserved the right of electing their own pastors, they acted almost always under the influence of the clergy, and generally of the most factious and fanatical of the order. The clergy, in order to preserve their influence in those popular elections, became, or affected to become, many of them, fanatics themselves, encouraged fanaticism among the people, and gave the preference almost always to the most fanatical candidate. So small a matter as the appointment of a parish priest, occasioned almost always a violent contest, not only in one parish, but in all the neighbouring parishes who seldom failed to take part in the quarrel. When the parish happened to be situated in a great city, it divided all the inhabitants into two parties; and when that city happened, either to constitute itself a little republic, or to be the head and capital of a little republic, as in the case with many of the considerable cities in Switzerland and Holland, every paltry dispute of this kind, over and above exasperating the animosity of all their other factions, threatened to leave behind it, both a new schism in the church, and a new faction in the state. In those small republics, therefore, the magistrate very soon found it necessary, for the sake of preserving the public peace, to assume to himself the right of presenting to all vacant benefices. In Scotland, the most extensive country in which this presbyterian form of church government has ever been established, the rights of patronage were in effect abolished by the act which established presbytery in the beginning of the reign of William III. That act, at least, put in the power of certain classes of people in each parish to purchase, for a very small price, the right of electing their own pastor. The constitution which this act established, was allowed to subsist for about two-and-twenty years, but was abolished by the 10th of queen Anne, ch.12, on account of the confusions and disorders which this more popular mode of election had almost everywhere occasioned. In so extensive a country as Scotland, however, a tumult in a remote parish was not so likely to give disturbance to government as in a smaller state. The 10th of queen Anne restored the rights of patronage. But though, in Scotland, the law gives the benefice, without any exception to the person presented by the patron; yet the church requires sometimes (for she has not in this respect been very uniform in her decisions) a certain concurrence of the people, before she will confer upon the presentee what is called the cure of souls, or the ecclesiastical jurisdiction in the parish. She sometimes, at least, from an affected concern for the peace of the parish, delays the settlement till this concurrence can be procured. The private tampering of some of the neighbouring clergy, sometimes to procure, but more frequently to prevent this concurrence, and the popular arts which they cultivate, in order to enable them upon such occasions to tamper more effectually, are perhaps the causes which principally keep up whatever remains of the old fanatical spirit, either in the clergy or in the people of Scotland.
The equality which the presbyterian form of church government establishes among the clergy, consists, first, in the equality of authority or ecclesiastical jurisdiction; and, secondly, in the equality of benefice. In all presbyterian churches, the equality of authority is perfect; that of benefice is not so. The difference, however, between one benefice and another, is seldom so considerable, as commonly to tempt the possessor even of the small one to pay court to his patron, by the vile arts of flattery and assentation, in order to get a better. In all the presbyterian churches, where the rights of patronage are thoroughly established, it is by nobler and better arts, that the established clergy in general endeavour to gain the favour of their superiors; by their learning, by the irreproachable regularity of their life, and by the faithful and diligent discharge of their duty. Their patrons even frequently complain of the independency of their spirit, which they are apt to construe into ingratitude for past favours, but which, at worse, perhaps, is seldom anymore than that indifference which naturally arises from the consciousness that no further favours of the kind are ever to be expected. There is scarce, perhaps, to be found anywhere in Europe, a more learned, decent, independent, and respectable set of men, than the greater part of the presbyterian clergy of Holland, Geneva, Switzerland, and Scotland.
Where the church benefices are all nearly equal, none of them can be very great; and this mediocrity of benefice, though it may be, no doubt, carried too far, has, however, some very agreeable effects. Nothing but exemplary morals can give dignity to a man of small fortune. The vices of levity and vanity necessarily render him ridiculous, and are, besides, almost as ruinous to him as they are to the common people. In his own conduct, therefore, he is obliged to follow that system of morals which the common people respect the most. He gains their esteem and affection, by that plan of life which his own interest and situation would lead him to follow. The common people look upon him with that kindness with which we naturally regard one who approaches somewhat to our own condition, but who, we think, ought to be in a higher. Their kindness naturally provokes his kindness. He becomes careful to instruct them, and attentive to assist and relieve them. He does not even despise the prejudices of people who are disposed to be so favourable to him, and never treats them with those contemptuous and arrogant airs, which we so often meet with in the proud dignitaries of opulent and well endowed churches. The presbyterian clergy, accordingly, have more influence over the minds of the common people, than perhaps the clergy of any other established church. It is, accordingly, in presbyterian countries only, that we ever find the common people converted, without persecution completely, and almost to a man, to the established church.
In countries where church benefices are, the greater part of them, very moderate, a chair in a university is generally a better establishment than a church benefice. The universities have, in this case, the picking and chusing of their members from all the churchmen of the country, who, in every country, constitute by far the most numerous class of men of letters. Where church benefices, on the contrary, are many of them very considerable, the church naturally draws from the universities the greater part of their eminent men of letters; who generally find some patron, who does himself honour by procuring them church preferment. In the former situation, we are likely to find the universities filled with the most eminent men of letters that are to be found in the country. In the latter, we are likely to find few eminent men among them, and those few among the youngest members of the society, who are likely, too, to be drained away from it, before they can have acquired experience and knowledge enough to be of much use to it. It is observed by Mr de Voltaire, that father Porée, a jesuit of no great eminence in the republic of letters, was the only professor they had ever had in France, whose works were worth the reading. In a country which has produced so many eminent men of letters, it must appear somewhat singular, that scarce one of them should have been a professor in a university. The famous Cassendi was, in the beginning of his life, a professor in the university of Aix. Upon the first dawning of his genius, it was represented to him, that by going into the church he could easily find a much more quiet and comfortable subsistence, as well as a better situation for pursuing his studies; and he immediately followed the advice. The observation of Mr de Voltaire may be applied, I believe, not only to France, but to all other Roman Catholic countries. We very rarely find in any of them an eminent man of letters, who is a professor in a university, except, perhaps, in the professions of law and physic; professions from which the church is not so likely to draw them. After the church of Rome, that of England is by far the richest and best endowed church in Christendom. In England, accordingly, the church is continually draining the universities of all their best and ablest members; and an old college tutor who is known and distinguished in Europe as an eminent man of letters, is as rarely to be found there as in any Roman catholic country. In Geneva, on the contrary, in the protestant cantons of Switzerland, in the protestant countries of Germany, in Holland, in Scotland, in Sweden, and Denmark, the most eminent men of letters whom those countries have produced, have, not all indeed, but the far greater part of them, been professors in universities. In those countries, the universities are continually draining the church of all its most eminent men of letters.
It may, perhaps, be worth while to remark, that, if we except the poets, a few orators, and a few historians, the far greater part of the other eminent men of letters, both of Greece and Rome, appear to have been either public or private teachers; generally either of philosophy or of rhetoric. This remark will be found to hold true, from the days of Lysias and Isocrates, of Plato and Aristotle, down to those of Plutarch and Epictetus, Suetonius, and Quintilian. To impose upon any man the necessity of teaching, year after year, in any particular branch of science seems in reality to be the most effectual method for rendering him completely master of it himself. By being obliged to go every year over the same ground, if he is good for any thing, he necessarily becomes, in a few years, well acquainted with every part of it, and if, upon any particular point, he should form too hasty an opinion one year, when he comes, in the course of his lectures to reconsider the same subject the year thereafter, he is very likely to correct it. As to be a teacher of science is certainly the natural employment of a mere man of letters; so is it likewise, perhaps, the education which is most likely to render him a man of solid learning and knowledge. The mediocrity of church benefices naturally tends to draw the greater part of men of letters in the country where it takes place, to the employment in which they can be the most useful to the public, and at the same time to give them the best education, perhaps, they are capable of receiving. It tends to render their learning both as solid as possible, and as useful as possible.
The revenue of every established church, such parts of it excepted as may arise from particular lands or manors, is a branch, it ought to be observed, of the general revenue of the state, which is thus diverted to a purpose very different from the defence of the state. The tithe, for example, is a real land tax, which puts it out of the power of the proprietors of land to contribute so largely towards the defence of the state as they otherwise might be able to do. The rent of land, however, is, according to some, the sole fund; and, according to others, the principal fund, from which, in all great monarchies, the exigencies of the state must be ultimately supplied. The more of this fund that is given to the church, the less, it is evident, can be spared to the state. It may be laid down as a certain maxim, that all other things being supposed equal, the richer the church, the poorer must necessarily be, either the sovereign on the one hand, or the people on the other; and, in all cases, the less able must the state be to defend itself. In several protestant countries, particularly in all the protestant cantons of Switzerland, the revenue which anciently belonged to the Roman catholic church, the tithes and church lands, has been found a fund sufficient, not only to afford competent salaries to the established clergy, but to defray, with little or no addition, all the other expenses of the state. The magistrates of the powerful canton of Berne, in particular, have accumulated, out of the savings from this fund, a very large sum, supposed to amount to several millions; part of which is deposited in a public treasure, and part is placed at interest in what are called the public funds of the different indebted nations of Europe; chiefly in those of France and Great Britain. What may be the amount of the whole expense which the church, either of Berne, or of any other protestant canton, costs the state, I do not pretend to know. By a very exact account it appears, that, in 1755, the whole revenue of the clergy of the church of Scotland, including their glebe or church lands, and the rent of their manses or dwelling-houses, estimated according to a reasonable valuation, amounted only to £68,514:1:5 ¹⁄₁₂d. This very moderate revenue affords a decent subsistence to nine hundred and forty-four ministers. The whole expense of the church, including what is occasionally laid out for the building and reparation of churches, and of the manses of ministers, cannot well be supposed to exceed eighty or eighty-five thousand pounds a-year. The most opulent church in Christendom does not maintain better the uniformity of faith, the fervour of devotion, the spirit of order, regularity, and austere morals, in the great body of the people, than this very poorly endowed church of Scotland. All the good effects, both civil and religious, which an established church can be supposed to produce, are produced by it as completely as by any other. The greater part of the protestant churches of Switzerland, which, in general, are not better endowed than the church of Scotland, produce those effects in a still higher degree. In the greater part of the protestant cantons, there is not a single person to be found, who does not profess himself to be of the established church. If he professes himself to be of any other, indeed, the law obliges him to leave the canton. But so severe, or, rather, indeed, so oppressive a law, could never have been executed in such free countries, had not the diligence of the clergy beforehand converted to the established church the whole body of the people, with the exception of, perhaps, a few individuals only. In some parts of Switzerland, accordingly, where, from the accidental union of a protestant and Roman catholic country, the conversion has not been so complete, both religions are not only tolerated, but established by law.
English
The followers of Zuinglius, or more properly of Calvin, took the opposite course: whenever a church became vacant, they gave the people of its parish the right to elect their own pastor, while establishing complete equality among the clergy. The first part of this arrangement, for as long as it remained in force, seems to have produced nothing but disorder and confusion, and to have tended equally to corrupt the morals of clergy and people. The second part seems never to have had any but wholly beneficial effects.
As long as parishioners retained the right to elect their own pastors, they nearly always acted under the influence of the clergy, generally its most factious and fanatical members. To maintain their influence over these popular elections, many clergy became, or pretended to become, fanatics themselves. They encouraged fanaticism among the people and nearly always preferred the most fanatical candidate. A matter as small as the appointment of a parish priest almost invariably provoked a bitter contest, not just in that parish but in every neighboring parish, whose inhabitants seldom failed to join the quarrel. If the parish was in a great city, the contest divided all its inhabitants into two parties. If that city was itself a little republic, or was the chief city and capital of one—as was the case with many important cities in Switzerland and Holland—each petty dispute of this kind, besides inflaming the animosity of all the other factions, threatened to leave both a new schism in the church and a new faction in the state. In those small republics, therefore, magistrates soon found it necessary, for the sake of public peace, to assume the right of presenting candidates to all vacant benefices. In Scotland, the largest country ever to establish this presbyterian form of church government, the act that established presbytery at the beginning of the reign of William III. effectively abolished patronage rights. At least, it empowered certain groups in each parish to purchase the right to elect their own pastor for a very small sum. The arrangement established by that act lasted about twenty-two years, but was abolished by the 10th of queen Anne, ch.12, because this more popular mode of election had produced confusion and disorder almost everywhere. In a country as extensive as Scotland, however, a disturbance in a remote parish was less likely to trouble the government than in a smaller state. The 10th of queen Anne restored patronage rights. Yet although Scottish law awards the benefice, without exception, to the person presented by the patron, the church sometimes requires a degree of concurrence from the people before conferring on that person what is called the cure of souls, or ecclesiastical jurisdiction in the parish. The church's decisions have not been very consistent on this point. Sometimes, at least, it delays the appointment until it can secure that concurrence, professing concern for the peace of the parish. The private efforts of some neighboring clergy to secure that concurrence, but more often to prevent it, together with the popular arts they cultivate to make their interventions more effective, are perhaps the principal causes sustaining whatever remains of the old fanatical spirit among either the clergy or the people of Scotland.
The equality established among the clergy by presbyterian church government consists, first, in equality of authority or ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and, second, in equality of benefice. In all presbyterian churches authority is perfectly equal; benefices are not quite so equal. Yet the difference between benefices is seldom large enough to tempt even the holder of a small one to seek a better by courting his patron with vile flattery and servile agreement. In presbyterian churches where patronage rights are fully established, the established clergy generally seek favor with their superiors by nobler and better means: by their learning, the irreproachable discipline of their lives, and the faithful and diligent performance of their duties. Their patrons even frequently complain of their independence of spirit, construing it as ingratitude for past favors. Yet at worst this is perhaps seldom more than the indifference that naturally comes from knowing that no further favors of that kind can be expected. Perhaps nowhere in Europe could one find a more learned, decent, independent, and respectable body of men than most of the presbyterian clergy of Holland, Geneva, Switzerland, and Scotland.
Where church benefices are all nearly equal, none can be very large; and although this moderation of income can no doubt be carried too far, it has some highly beneficial effects. Only exemplary morals can give dignity to a man of modest means. Frivolity and vanity inevitably make him ridiculous, and are almost as ruinous to him as to ordinary people. In his own conduct, therefore, he must follow the moral code that ordinary people respect most. He earns their esteem and affection by a way of life that his own interest and circumstances would lead him to adopt. Ordinary people regard him with the kindness we naturally feel for someone who comes somewhat near our own station, but who, we think, ought to occupy a higher one. Their kindness naturally awakens his. He takes care to instruct them and attends to their needs, assisting and relieving them. He does not even despise the prejudices of people so favorably disposed toward him, and never treats them with the contempt and arrogance so often found among the proud dignitaries of wealthy, well-endowed churches. Accordingly, presbyterian clergy have perhaps more influence over the minds of ordinary people than the clergy of any other established church. Accordingly, only in presbyterian countries do we ever find ordinary people converted, without persecution, completely and almost to a person, to the established church.
In countries where most church benefices are quite modest, a university professorship generally provides a better livelihood than a church benefice. Universities can then select their members from all the clergy of the country, who everywhere constitute by far the largest class of learned men. Where many church benefices are substantial, by contrast, the church naturally draws away most of the universities' eminent scholars. Such men generally find a patron who does himself honor by securing church advancement for them. In the former situation, universities are likely to be filled with the country's most eminent scholars. In the latter, few eminent scholars are likely to remain in them, and those few will be among the youngest members, liable to be drawn away before they acquire enough experience and knowledge to be of much use to their universities. Mr de Voltaire observed that father Porée, a Jesuit of no great eminence in the world of letters, was the only professor France had ever had whose works were worth reading. In a country that has produced so many eminent scholars, it must seem rather strange that scarcely one of them should have been a university professor. The famous Cassendi was a professor at the university of Aix early in his life. As soon as his genius began to show, he was told that by entering the church he could easily find a quieter and more comfortable living, as well as a better position from which to pursue his studies. He immediately followed the advice. Mr de Voltaire's observation applies, I believe, not only to France but to all other Roman Catholic countries. In any of them we very rarely find an eminent scholar who is a university professor, except perhaps in law and medicine, professions from which the church is less likely to draw scholars. After the church of Rome, the church of England is by far the richest and best-endowed church in Christendom. Accordingly, in England the church continually draws all the best and ablest members away from the universities. A long-serving college tutor known and distinguished throughout Europe as an eminent scholar is as rare there as in any Roman Catholic country. By contrast, in Geneva, the Protestant cantons of Switzerland, the Protestant countries of Germany, Holland, Scotland, Sweden, and Denmark, the most eminent scholars those countries have produced have been university professors—not all of them, certainly, but by far the greater part. In those countries, the universities continually draw away the church's most eminent scholars.
It may be worth noting that, apart from poets, a few orators, and a few historians, by far the greater part of the other eminent scholars of Greece and Rome seem to have been teachers, public or private, generally of philosophy or rhetoric. This holds true from the time of Lysias and Isocrates, Plato and Aristotle, down to that of Plutarch and Epictetus, Suetonius and Quintilian. Requiring a person to teach a particular branch of knowledge year after year seems, in fact, the most effective way to make that person a complete master of it. Compelled to cover the same ground every year, anyone with any ability necessarily becomes thoroughly familiar with every part of it within a few years. If one year he forms an opinion too hastily on some particular point, he is very likely to correct it when his lectures bring him back to that subject the next year. Teaching a branch of knowledge is certainly a scholar's natural employment; it may also be the education most likely to give him substantial learning and knowledge. Modest church benefices naturally tend to draw most of a country's scholars into the work in which they can be most useful to the public, while also giving them perhaps the best education they can receive. They tend to make their learning as solid and as useful as possible.
The revenue of every established church, apart from whatever arises from particular lands or manors, is, it should be observed, a branch of the state's general revenue diverted to a purpose quite different from the defense of the state. The tithe, for example, is a real tax on land, which prevents landowners from contributing as much to the state's defense as they otherwise could. Yet land rent is, according to some, the sole fund—and according to others, the principal fund—from which the needs of the state must ultimately be met in all great monarchies. Plainly, the more of this fund goes to the church, the less is available to the state. We may take it as a certain maxim that, all other things being equal, the richer the church, the poorer either the sovereign or the people must be; and in every case the less capable the state will be of defending itself. In several Protestant countries, particularly all the Protestant cantons of Switzerland, the tithes and church lands that once supplied revenue to the Roman Catholic church have proved sufficient not only to pay adequate salaries to the established clergy, but also to meet all the state's other expenses with little or no additional revenue. The magistrates of the powerful canton of Berne in particular have accumulated from the savings on this fund a very large sum, thought to amount to several millions. Part is kept in a public treasury, and part is invested at interest in what are called the public funds of Europe's indebted nations, chiefly France and Great Britain. I do not claim to know the total cost to the state of the church of Berne or of any other Protestant canton. A very precise account shows that in 1755 the entire revenue of the clergy of the church of Scotland, including their glebe or church lands and the rent of their manses or dwelling-houses, valued on reasonable terms, amounted to only £68,514:1:5 ¹⁄₁₂d. This very modest revenue provides a decent living for nine hundred and forty-four ministers. The whole expense of the church, including occasional spending on building and repairing churches and ministers' manses, can hardly be supposed to exceed eighty or eighty-five thousand pounds a year. The wealthiest church in Christendom does no better than this very poorly endowed church of Scotland at sustaining among the great body of the people a common faith, fervent devotion, a spirit of order and regularity, and austere morals. It produces all the good effects, civil and religious, that an established church might be expected to produce, as fully as any other. Most of the Protestant churches of Switzerland, which generally have no better endowments than the church of Scotland, produce these effects to an even higher degree. In most Protestant cantons, not a single person can be found who does not profess to belong to the established church. If anyone professes another faith, however, the law obliges that person to leave the canton. Yet so severe—or rather so oppressive—a law could never have been enforced in such free countries if the diligence of the clergy had not already converted nearly the entire population to the established church, with perhaps only a few individuals excepted. Accordingly, in some parts of Switzerland where the accidental union of a Protestant and a Roman Catholic territory has kept conversion from being so complete, both religions are not merely tolerated but established by law.
Book V, Chapter I, 19
18th-century English
The proper performance of every service seems to require, that its pay or recompence should be, as exactly as possible, proportioned to the nature of the service. If any service is very much underpaid, it is very apt to suffer by the meanness and incapacity of the greater part of those who are employed in it. If it is very much overpaid, it is apt to suffer, perhaps still more, by their negligence and idleness. A man of a large revenue, whatever may be his profession, thinks he ought to live like other men of large revenues; and to spend a great part of his time in festivity, in vanity, and in dissipation. But in a clergyman, this train of life not only consumes the time which ought to be employed in the duties of his function, but in the eyes of the common people, destroys almost entirely that sanctity of character, which can alone enable him to perform those duties with proper weight and authority.
PART IV. Of the Expense of supporting the Dignity of the Sovereign.
Over and above the expenses necessary for enabling the sovereign to perform his several duties, a certain expense is requisite for the support of his dignity. This expense varies, both with the different periods of improvement, and with the different forms of government.
In an opulent and improved society, where all the different orders of people are growing every day more expensive in their houses, in their furniture, in their tables, in their dress, and in their equipage; it cannot well be expected that the sovereign should alone hold out against the fashion. He naturally, therefore, or rather necessarily, becomes more expensive in all those different articles too. His dignity even seems to require that he should become so.
As, in point of dignity, a monarch is more raised above his subjects than the chief magistrate of any republic is ever supposed to be above his fellow-citizens; so a greater expense is necessary for supporting that higher dignity. We naturally expect more splendour in the court of a king, than in the mansion-house of a doge or burgo-master.
CONCLUSION.
The expense of defending the society, and that of supporting the dignity of the chief magistrate, are both laid out for the general benefit of the whole society. It is reasonable, therefore, that they should be defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society; all the different members contributing, as nearly as possible, in proportion to their respective abilities.
The expense of the administration of justice, too, may no doubt be considered as laid out for the benefit of the whole society. There is no impropriety, therefore, in its being defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society. The persons, however, who give occasion to this expense, are those who, by their injustice in one way or another, make it necessary to seek redress or protection from the courts of justice. The persons, again, most immediately benefited by this expense, are those whom the courts of justice either restore to their rights, or maintain in their rights. The expense of the administration of justice, therefore, may very properly be defrayed by the particular contribution of one or other, or both, of those two different sets of persons, according as different occasions may require, that is, by the fees of court. It cannot be necessary to have recourse to the general contribution of the whole society, except for the conviction of those criminals who have not themselves any estate or fund sufficient for paying those fees.
Those local or provincial expenses, of which the benefit is local or provincial (what is laid out, for example, upon the police of a particular town or district), ought to be defrayed by a local or provincial revenue, and ought to be no burden upon the general revenue of the society. It is unjust that the whole society should contribute towards an expense, of which the benefit is confined to a part of the society.
The expense of maintaining good roads and communications is, no doubt, beneficial to the whole society, and may, therefore, without any injustice, be defrayed by the general contributions of the whole society. This expense, however, is most immediately and directly beneficial to those who travel or carry goods from one place to another, and to those who consume such goods. The turnpike tolls in England, and the duties called peages in other countries, lay it altogether upon those two different sets of people, and thereby discharge the general revenue of the society from a very considerable burden.
The expense of the institutions for education and religious instruction, is likewise, no doubt, beneficial to the whole society, and may, therefore, without injustice, be defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society. This expense, however, might, perhaps, with equal propriety, and even with some advantage, be defrayed altogether by those who receive the immediate benefit of such education and instruction, or by the voluntary contribution of those who think they have occasion for either the one or the other.
When the institutions, or public works, which are beneficial to the whole society, either cannot be maintained altogether, or are not maintained altogether, by the contribution of such particular members of the society as are most immediately benefited by them; the deficiency must, in most cases, be made up by the general contribution of the whole society. The general revenue of the society, over and above defraying the expense of defending the society, and of supporting the dignity of the chief magistrate, must make up for the deficiency of many particular branches of revenue. The sources of this general or public revenue, I shall endeavour to explain in the following chapter.
English
The proper performance of any service seems to require that its pay or reward be proportioned as closely as possible to the nature of the service. If it is badly underpaid, the work is likely to suffer from the poor qualifications and limited abilities of most who undertake it. If it is greatly overpaid, the work may suffer still more from their negligence and idleness. Whatever his profession, a man with a large revenue thinks he should live like other men with large revenues, spending much of his time on feasting, vanity, and dissipation. But for a clergyman, such a life not only consumes the time that ought to be devoted to his duties; in the eyes of ordinary people, it also destroys almost entirely the sanctity of character that alone enables him to carry out those duties with proper weight and authority.
PART IV. On the Expense of Maintaining the Sovereign's Dignity.
Beyond the expense required to enable the sovereign to perform his various duties, a certain expense is needed to maintain his dignity. This expense varies both with the stage of society's development and with the form of government.
In a wealthy and developed society, where every rank of people is daily spending more on housing, furnishings, meals, clothing, and carriages, the sovereign can hardly be expected to stand alone against the fashion. Naturally, or rather necessarily, he too spends more on all these things. Indeed, his dignity seems to require it.
Just as a monarch stands higher above his subjects in dignity than the chief magistrate of a republic is ever thought to stand above his fellow citizens, so more expense is needed to uphold that higher dignity. We naturally expect greater splendor at a king's court than at the residence of a doge or burgomaster.
CONCLUSION.
The expense of defending society and that of upholding the dignity of its chief magistrate are both incurred for the general benefit of society as a whole. It is therefore reasonable that they be paid from the general contributions of the whole society, with every member contributing as nearly as possible in proportion to their respective means.
The expense of administering justice may also, no doubt, be regarded as incurred for the benefit of the whole society. It would therefore be perfectly proper to pay for it through the general contributions of the whole society. Yet those who give rise to this expense are the people whose injustice, in one form or another, makes it necessary to seek protection or redress from the courts. Those who benefit most directly from it, in turn, are the people whose rights the courts either restore or uphold. The expense of administering justice can therefore quite properly be borne by the particular contributions of either or both of these two groups, as circumstances require—that is, by court fees. There need be no recourse to the general contributions of society except to convict criminals who have no property or funds sufficient to pay those fees themselves.
Local or provincial expenses, whose benefits are local or provincial—spending on policing a particular town or district, for example—ought to be met by local or provincial revenue, and should impose no burden on society's general revenue. It is unjust to make the whole society pay an expense whose benefits are confined to only part of it.
The expense of maintaining good roads and communications undoubtedly benefits the whole society and could therefore be paid, without injustice, from everyone's general contributions. Yet the most immediate and direct beneficiaries are those who travel or carry goods from place to place and those who consume those goods. The turnpike tolls of England and the duties called peages in other countries place this expense entirely on those two groups, thereby relieving society's general revenue of a considerable burden.
The expense of institutions for education and religious instruction undoubtedly benefits the whole society as well, and could therefore be paid from the general contributions of the whole society without injustice. Yet it might be equally appropriate, and even advantageous, for the entire cost to be borne by those who benefit directly from such education and instruction, or by the voluntary contributions of those who think they need either one.
When institutions or public works benefiting the whole society cannot be, or are not, maintained entirely through the contributions of the particular members who benefit most directly from them, the shortfall must in most cases be made up by the general contributions of the whole society. In addition to paying for society's defense and the dignity of its chief magistrate, the general revenue must make good the shortfall in many particular branches of revenue. In the following chapter I shall seek to explain the sources of this general or public revenue.
Book V, Chapter II, 1
18th-century English
OF THE SOURCES OF THE GENERAL OR PUBLIC REVENUE OF THE SOCIETY.
The revenue which must defray, not only the expense of defending the society and of supporting the dignity of the chief magistrate, but all the other necessary expenses of government, for which the constitution of the state has not provided any particular revenue may be drawn, either, first, from some fund which peculiarly belongs to the sovereign or commonwealth, and which is independent of the revenue of the people; or, secondly, from the revenue of the people.
PART I. Of the Funds, or Sources, of Revenue, which may peculiarly belong to the Sovereign or Commonwealth.
The funds, or sources, of revenue, which may peculiarly belong to the sovereign or commonwealth, must consist, either in stock, or in land.
The sovereign, like, any other owner of stock, may derive a revenue from it, either by employing it himself, or by lending it. His revenue is, in the one case, profit, in the other interest.
The revenue of a Tartar or Arabian chief consists in profit. It arises principally from the milk and increase of his own herds and flocks, of which he himself superintends the management, and is the principal shepherd or herdsman of his own horde or tribe. It is, however, in this earliest and rudest state of civil government only, that profit has ever made the principal part of the public revenue of a monarchical state.
Small republics have sometimes derived a considerable revenue from the profit of mercantile projects. The republic of Hamburgh is said to do so from the profits of a public wine-cellar and apothecary’s shop. {See Memoires concernant les Droits et Impositions en Europe, tome i. page 73. This work was compiled by the order of the court, for the use of a commission employed for some years past in considering the proper means for reforming the finances of France. The account of the French taxes, which takes up three volumes in quarto, may be regarded as perfectly authentic. That of those of other European nations was compiled from such information as the French ministers at the different courts could procure. It is much shorter, and probably not quite so exact as that of the French taxes.} That state cannot be very great, of which the sovereign has leisure to carry on the trade of a wine-merchant or an apothecary. The profit of a public bank has been a source of revenue to more considerable states. It has been so, not only to Hamburgh, but to Venice and Amsterdam. A revenue of this kind has even by some people been thought not below the attention of so great an empire as that of Great Britain. Reckoning the ordinary dividend of the bank of England at five and a-half per cent., and its capital at ten millions seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds, the neat annual profit, after paying the expense of management, must amount, it is said, to five hundred and ninety-two thousand nine hundred pounds. Government, it is pretended, could borrow this capital at three per cent. interest, and, by taking the management of the bank into its own hands, might make a clear profit of two hundred and sixty-nine thousand five hundred pounds a-year. The orderly, vigilant, and parsimonious administration of such aristocracies as those of Venice and Amsterdam, is extremely proper, it appears from experience, for the management of a mercantile project of this kind. But whether such a government as that of England, which, whatever may be its virtues, has never been famous for good economy; which, in time of peace, has generally conducted itself with the slothful and negligent profusion that is, perhaps, natural to monarchies; and, in time of war, has constantly acted with all the thoughtless extravagance that democracies are apt to fall into, could be safely trusted with the management of such a project, must at least be a good deal more doubtful.
The post-office is properly a mercantile project. The government advances the expense of establishing the different offices, and of buying or hiring the necessary horses or carriages, and is repaid, with a large profit, by the duties upon what is carried. It is, perhaps, the only mercantile project which has been successfully managed by, I believe, every sort of government. The capital to be advanced is not very considerable. There is no mystery in the business. The returns are not only certain but immediate.
Princes, however, have frequently engaged in many other mercantile projects, and have been willing, like private persons, to mend their fortunes, by becoming adventurers in the common branches of trade. They have scarce ever succeeded. The profusion with which the affairs of princes are always managed, renders it almost impossible that they should. The agents of a prince regard the wealth of their master as inexhaustible; are careless at what price they buy, are careless at what price they sell, are careless at what expense they transport his goods from one place to another. Those agents frequently live with the profusion of princes; and sometimes, too, in spite of that profusion, and by a proper method of making up their accounts, acquire the fortunes of princes. It was thus, as we are told by Machiavel, that the agents of Lorenzo of Medicis, not a prince of mean abilities, carried on his trade. The republic of Florence was several times obliged to pay the debt into which their extravagance had involved him. He found it convenient, accordingly to give up the business of merchant, the business to which his family had originally owed their fortune, and, in the latter part of his life, to employ both what remained of that fortune, and the revenue of the state, of which he had the disposal, in projects and expenses more suitable to his station.
No two characters seem more inconsistent than those of trader and sovereign. If the trading spirit of the English East India company renders them very bad sovereigns, the spirit of sovereignty seems to have rendered them equally bad traders. While they were traders only, they managed their trade successfully, and were able to pay from their profits a moderate dividend to the proprietors of their stock. Since they became sovereigns, with a revenue which, it is said, was originally more than three millions sterling, they have been obliged to beg the ordinary assistance of government, in order to avoid immediate bankruptcy. In their former situation, their servants in India considered themselves as the clerks of merchants; in their present situation, those servants consider themselves as the ministers of sovereigns.
A state may sometimes derive some part of its public revenue from the interest of money, as well as from the profits of stock. If it has amassed a treasure, it may lend a part of that treasure, either to foreign states, or to its own subjects.
The canton of Berne derives a considerable revenue by lending a part of its treasure to foreign states, that is, by placing it in the public funds of the different indebted nations of Europe, chiefly in those of France and England. The security of this revenue must depend, first, upon the security of the funds in which it is placed, or upon the good faith of the government which has the management of them; and, secondly, upon the certainty or probability of the continuance of peace with the debtor nation. In the case of a war, the very first act of hostility on the part of the debtor nation might be the forfeiture of the funds of its credit. This policy of lending money to foreign states is, so far as I know peculiar to the canton of Berne.
The city of Hamburgh {See Memoire concernant les Droites et Impositions en Europe tome i p. 73.}has established a sort of public pawn-shop, which lends money to the subjects of the state, upon pledges, at six per cent. interest. This pawn-shop, or lombard, as it is called, affords a revenue, it is pretended, to the state, of a hundred and fifty thousand crowns, which, at four and sixpence the crown, amounts to £33,750 sterling.
The government of Pennsylvania, without amassing any treasure, invented a method of lending, not money, indeed, but what is equivalent to money, to its subjects. By advancing to private people, at interest, and upon land security to double the value, paper bills of credit, to be redeemed fifteen years after their date; and, in the mean time, made transferable from hand to hand, like banknotes, and declared by act of assembly to be a legal tender in all payments from one inhabitant of the province to another, it raised a moderate revenue, which went a considerable way towards defraying an annual expense of about £4,500, the whole ordinary expense of that frugal and orderly government. The success of an expedient of this kind must have depended upon three different circumstances: first, upon the demand for some other instrument of commerce, besides gold and silver money, or upon the demand for such a quantity of consumable stock as could not be had without sending abroad the greater part of their gold and silver money, in order to purchase it; secondly, upon the good credit of the government which made use of this expedient; and, thirdly, upon the moderation with which it was used, the whole value of the paper bills of credit never exceeding that of the gold and silver money which would have been necessary for carrying on their circulation, had there been no paper bills of credit. The same expedient was, upon different occasions, adopted by several other American colonies; but, from want of this moderation, it produced, in the greater part of them, much more disorder than conveniency.
The unstable and perishable nature of stock and credit, however, renders them unfit to be trusted to as the principal funds of that sure, steady, and permanent revenue, which can alone give security and dignity to government. The government of no great nation, that was advanced beyond the shepherd state, seems ever to have derived the greater part of its public revenue from such sources.
Land is a fund of more stable and permanent nature; and the rent of public lands, accordingly, has been the principal source of the public revenue of many a great nation that was much advanced beyond the shepherd state. From the produce or rent of the public lands, the ancient republics of Greece and Italy derived for a long time the greater part of that revenue which defrayed the necessary expenses of the commonwealth. The rent of the crown lands constituted for a long time the greater part of the revenue of the ancient sovereigns of Europe.
War, and the preparation for war, are the two circumstances which, in modern times, occasion the greater part of the necessary expense or all great states. But in the ancient republics of Greece and Italy, every citizen was a soldier, and both served, and prepared himself for service, at his own expense. Neither of those two circumstances, therefore, could occasion any very considerable expense to the state. The rent of a very moderate landed estate might be fully sufficient for defraying all the other necessary expenses of government.
In the ancient monarchies of Europe, the manners and customs of the time sufficiently prepared the great body of the people for war; and when they took the field, they were, by the condition of their feudal tenures, to be maintained either at their own expense, or at that of their immediate lords, without bringing any new charge upon the sovereign. The other expenses of government were, the greater part of them, very moderate. The administration of justice, it has been shewn, instead of being a cause of expense was a source of revenue. The labour of the country people, for three days before, and for three days after, harvest, was thought a fund sufficient for making and maintaining all the bridges, highways, and other public works, which the commerce of the country was supposed to require. In those days the principal expense of the sovereign seems to have consisted in the maintenance of his own family and household. The officers of his household, accordingly, were then the great officers of state. The lord treasurer received his rents. The lord steward and lord chamberlain looked after the expense of his family. The care of his stables was committed to the lord constable and the lord marshal. His houses were all built in the form of castles, and seem to have been the principal fortresses which he possessed. The keepers of those houses or castles might be considered as a sort of military governors. They seem to have been the only military officers whom it was necessary to maintain in time of peace. In these circumstances, the rent of a great landed estate might, upon ordinary occasions, very well defray all the necessary expenses of government.
In the present state of the greater part of the civilized monarchies of Europe, the rent of all the lands in the country, managed as they probably would be, if they all belonged to one proprietor, would scarce, perhaps, amount to the ordinary revenue which they levy upon the people even in peaceable times. The ordinary revenue of Great Britain, for example, including not only what is necessary for defraying the current expense of the year, but for paying the interest of the public debts, and for sinking a part of the capital of those debts, amounts to upwards of ten millions a-year. But the land tax, at four shillings in the pound, falls short of two millions a-year. This land tax, as it is called however, is supposed to be one-fifth, not only of the rent of all the land, but of that of all the houses, and of the interest of all the capital stock of Great Britain, that part of it only excepted which is either lent to the public, or employed as farming stock in the cultivation of land. A very considerable part of the produce of this tax arises from the rent of houses and the interest of capital stock. The land tax of the city of London, for example, at four shillings in the pound, amounts to £123,399: 6: 7; that of the city of Westminster to £63,092: 1: 5; that of the palaces of Whitehall and St. James’s, to £30,754: 6: 3. A certain proportion of the land tax is, in the same manner, assessed upon all the other cities and towns corporate in the kingdom; and arises almost altogether, either from the rent of houses, or from what is supposed to be the interest of trading and capital stock. According to the estimation, therefore, by which Great Britain is rated to the land tax, the whole mass of revenue arising from the rent of all the lands, from that of all the houses, and from the interest of all the capital stock, that part of it only excepted which is either lent to the public, or employed in the cultivation of land, does not exceed ten millions sterling a-year, the ordinary revenue which government levies upon the people, even in peaceable times. The estimation by which Great Britain is rated to the land tax is, no doubt, taking the whole kingdom at an average, very much below the real value; though in several particular counties and districts it is said to be nearly equal to that value. The rent of the lands alone, exclusive of that of houses and of the interest of stock, has by many people been estimated at twenty millions; an estimation made in a great measure at random, and which, I apprehend, is as likely to be above as below the truth. But if the lands of Great Britain, in the present state of their cultivation, do not afford a rent of more than twenty millions a-year, they could not well afford the half, most probably not the fourth part of that rent, if they all belonged to a single proprietor, and were put under the negligent, expensive, and oppressive management of his factors and agents. The crown lands of Great Britain do not at present afford the fourth part of the rent which could probably be drawn from them if they were the property of private persons. If the crown lands were more extensive, it is probable, they would be still worse managed.
English
On the Sources of the General or Public Revenue of Society.
The revenue that must cover not only the expense of defending society and maintaining the dignity of its chief magistrate, but all the other necessary expenses of government for which the constitution of the state has made no particular provision, may be drawn from either of two sources: first, a fund belonging especially to the sovereign or commonwealth, independent of the people's revenue; or second, the revenue of the people.
Part I. On the Funds, or Sources of Revenue, That May Belong Especially to the Sovereign or Commonwealth.
The funds, or sources of revenue, that may belong especially to the sovereign or commonwealth must consist either of stock or of land.
Like any other owner of stock, the sovereign may obtain revenue from it by employing it himself or by lending it. In the first case his revenue is profit; in the second, interest.
The revenue of a Tartar or Arabian chief consists of profit. It arises chiefly from the milk and increase of his own herds and flocks, whose management he supervises himself, as the principal shepherd or herdsman of his own horde or tribe. Only in this earliest and least developed condition of civil government, however, has profit ever formed the chief part of the public revenue of a monarchy.
Small republics have sometimes drawn considerable revenue from the profits of commercial ventures. The republic of Hamburgh is said to do so from a public wine cellar and apothecary's shop. [See Memoires concernant les Droits et Impositions en Europe, tome i. page 73. This work was compiled by order of the court for a commission that had spent several years considering suitable means of reforming the finances of France. Its account of French taxes, occupying three quarto volumes, may be regarded as perfectly authentic. Its account of the taxes of other European nations was compiled from whatever information French ministers at the various courts could obtain. It is much shorter and probably not quite so accurate as the account of French taxes.] A state can hardly be very great if its sovereign has leisure to trade as a wine merchant or apothecary. The profit of a public bank has furnished revenue to more considerable states: not only Hamburgh but Venice and Amsterdam. Some have even thought such revenue worthy of the attention of an empire as great as Great Britain. If the ordinary dividend of the bank of England is reckoned at five and a-half per cent., and its capital at ten millions seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds, its net annual profit after management expenses, it is said, must amount to five hundred and ninety-two thousand nine hundred pounds. The government, it is claimed, could borrow that capital at three per cent. interest and, by managing the bank itself, make a clear profit of two hundred and sixty-nine thousand five hundred pounds a year. Experience suggests that the orderly, watchful, and thrifty administration of aristocracies such as Venice and Amsterdam is admirably suited to managing such a commercial venture. But whether England's government could safely be trusted with it is considerably more doubtful. Whatever its virtues, that government has never been renowned for thrift: in peace it has generally displayed the idle and negligent extravagance perhaps natural to monarchies, and in war it has invariably shown all the heedless extravagance into which democracies tend to fall.
The post office is properly a commercial venture. Government advances the cost of establishing the several offices and buying or hiring the necessary horses or carriages, and recovers that cost, with a large profit, from charges on what is carried. It is perhaps the only commercial venture successfully managed by, I believe, every kind of government. The capital required is not very large. The business holds no mysteries. Its returns are not only certain but immediate.
Princes, however, have frequently undertaken other commercial ventures, hoping, like private individuals, to improve their fortunes by entering ordinary branches of trade. They have hardly ever succeeded. The extravagance with which princely affairs are always conducted makes success almost impossible. A prince's agents regard their master's wealth as inexhaustible. They pay little heed to the price at which they buy or sell, or to the cost of transporting his goods from place to place. They often live as extravagantly as princes themselves; and sometimes, despite that extravagance, they acquire princely fortunes through a suitable way of drawing up their accounts. Machiavel tells us that the agents of Lorenzo of Medicis, a prince of no small ability, conducted his trade in just this way. The republic of Florence had several times to pay the debts their extravagance had incurred on his behalf. Accordingly, he found it best to give up the merchant's business, to which his family originally owed its fortune, and to devote both what remained of that fortune and the state revenue at his disposal, in the latter part of his life, to ventures and expenses more fitting to his position.
No two roles seem less compatible than trader and sovereign. If the trading spirit of the English East India company makes them very bad sovereigns, the spirit of sovereignty seems to have made them equally bad traders. When they were traders alone, they conducted their trade successfully and could pay the owners of their stock a moderate dividend from its profits. Since becoming sovereigns, with a revenue originally said to exceed three millions sterling, they have had to beg the customary assistance of government to avoid immediate bankruptcy. In their former position, their servants in India thought of themselves as merchants' clerks; in their present one, they think of themselves as ministers of sovereigns.
A state may sometimes derive part of its public revenue from interest on money as well as from profits on stock. If it has accumulated a treasure, it may lend part of it to foreign states or to its own subjects.
The canton of Berne earns considerable revenue by lending part of its treasure to foreign states—that is, by investing it in the public funds of various indebted European nations, chiefly France and England. The security of this revenue depends, first, on the security of the funds in which it is invested, or the good faith of the government managing them; and second, on the certainty or likelihood of continued peace with the debtor nation. In wartime, that nation's very first hostile act might be to confiscate the funds belonging to its creditor. So far as I know, this policy of lending to foreign states is peculiar to the canton of Berne.
The city of Hamburgh [See Memoire concernant les Droites et Impositions en Europe tome i p. 73.] has established a kind of public pawnshop, which lends money to the state's subjects against pledges at six per cent. interest. This pawnshop, or lombard, is said to bring the state a revenue of a hundred and fifty thousand crowns, amounting, at four and sixpence per crown, to £33,750 sterling.
Without accumulating any treasure, the government of Pennsylvania devised a way to lend its subjects not money itself, but its equivalent. It issued private individuals interest-bearing paper bills of credit, secured on land worth twice their value, redeemable fifteen years after their date and meanwhile transferable from hand to hand like banknotes. An act of assembly declared them legal tender for all payments between inhabitants of the province. In this way it raised a moderate revenue that went far toward meeting an annual expense of about £4,500—the entire ordinary expense of that thrifty and orderly government. The success of such a measure must have depended on three circumstances: first, a demand for an instrument of commerce besides gold and silver money, or for so much consumable stock that obtaining it would otherwise require sending abroad most of their gold and silver money; second, the good credit of the government employing the measure; and third, restraint in its use, so that the total value of the paper bills of credit never exceeded the gold and silver money that would have been needed for circulation in their absence. Several other American colonies adopted the same expedient at various times. Lacking this restraint, however, most of them found it caused far more disorder than convenience.
The unstable and perishable character of stock and credit, however, makes them unsuitable as the principal funds for the secure, steady, permanent revenue that alone can give government security and dignity. No great nation beyond the pastoral condition seems ever to have drawn most of its public revenue from these sources.
Land is a more stable and permanent fund. Accordingly, the rent of public lands has been the principal source of public revenue for many a great nation far advanced beyond the pastoral condition. For a long time the ancient republics of Greece and Italy drew most of the revenue that paid the necessary expenses of the commonwealth from the produce or rent of public lands. The rent of crown lands long made up the greater part of the revenue of Europe's ancient sovereigns.
War and preparation for war are the two circumstances responsible for most of the necessary expense of all great states in modern times. But in the ancient republics of Greece and Italy, every citizen was a soldier who both served and prepared for service at his own expense. Neither circumstance, therefore, could impose any great expense on the state. The rent of a fairly modest landed estate might fully cover all the other necessary expenses of government.
In the ancient monarchies of Europe, contemporary manners and customs adequately prepared the mass of the people for war; and when they took the field, the terms of their feudal tenures required them to be maintained either at their own expense or at that of their immediate lords, without imposing a new charge on the sovereign. Most other government expenses were very moderate. The administration of justice, as has been shown, produced revenue instead of expense. Three days of country people's labor before harvest and three days after it were considered sufficient to make and maintain all the bridges, highways, and other public works thought necessary for the country's commerce. In those days the sovereign's main expense seems to have been maintaining his own family and household. Accordingly, the officers of his household were then the great officers of state. The lord treasurer collected his rents. The lord steward and lord chamberlain oversaw the expenses of his family. Care of his stables belonged to the lord constable and lord marshal. All his houses were built as castles, and seem to have been his principal fortresses. Their keepers might be regarded as a kind of military governor; they seem to have been the only military officers who needed maintaining in peacetime. Under these circumstances, the rent of a great landed estate could ordinarily cover all the necessary expenses of government.
In most civilized European monarchies today, the rent of all the country's land, if managed as it probably would be under a single owner, would perhaps scarcely equal the ordinary revenue they levy from the people even in peacetime. Great Britain's ordinary revenue, for example, exceeds ten millions a year. It covers not only current annual expenses, but interest on the public debts and the repayment of part of their principal. Yet the land tax at four shillings in the pound brings in less than two millions a year. This so-called land tax, however, is supposed to represent one-fifth of the rent not only of all land but also of all houses, and of the interest on all the capital stock of Great Britain, except stock lent to the public or used as farming stock in cultivating land. A considerable share of its proceeds comes from house rent and interest on capital stock. At four shillings in the pound, for example, the land tax on the city of London amounts to £123,399: 6: 7; on the city of Westminster, £63,092: 1: 5; and on the palaces of Whitehall and St. James's, £30,754: 6: 3. All the kingdom's other incorporated cities and towns are likewise assessed for a share of the land tax, arising almost entirely from house rents or the presumed interest on trading and capital stock. Thus, by the valuation used to assess Great Britain's land tax, all revenue from rents of land and houses and interest on capital stock—except stock lent to the public or employed in cultivation—amounts to no more than ten millions sterling a year, the ordinary revenue government levies on the people even in peacetime. The valuation on which Great Britain's land tax is based is undoubtedly far below the real value across the kingdom as a whole, although in some particular counties and districts it is said to be nearly equal to it. Many have estimated the rent of land alone, apart from house rents and interest on stock, at twenty millions. That estimate is largely a guess, and I suspect it is as likely to be too high as too low. But if Great Britain's lands in their present state of cultivation yield no more than twenty millions a year in rent, they could hardly yield half that rent, and most probably not a fourth of it, if they all belonged to one owner and fell under the negligent, costly, oppressive management of his factors and agents. Great Britain's crown lands now yield less than a fourth of the rent they could probably yield under private ownership. If those crown lands were more extensive, they would probably be managed still worse.
Book V, Chapter II, 2
18th-century English
The revenue which the great body of the people derives from land is, in proportion, not to the rent, but to the produce of the land. The whole annual produce of the land of every country, if we except what is reserved for seed, is either annually consumed by the great body of the people, or exchanged for something else that is consumed by them. Whatever keeps down the produce of the land below what it would otherwise rise to, keeps down the revenue of the great body of the people, still more than it does that of the proprietors of land. The rent of land, that portion of the produce which belongs to the proprietors, is scarce anywhere in Great Britain supposed to be more than a third part of the whole produce. If the land which, in one state of cultivation, affords a revenue of ten millions sterling a-year, would in another afford a rent of twenty millions; the rent being, in both cases, supposed a third part of the produce, the revenue of the proprietors would be less than it otherwise might be, by ten millions a-year only; but the revenue of the great body of the people would be less than it otherwise might be, by thirty millions a-year, deducting only what would be necessary for seed. The population of the country would be less by the number of people which thirty millions a-year, deducting always the seed, could maintain, according to the particular mode of living, and expense which might take place in the different ranks of men, among whom the remainder was distributed.
Though there is not at present in Europe, any civilized state of any kind which derives the greater part of its public revenue from the rent of lands which are the property of the state; yet, in all the great monarchies of Europe, there are still many large tracts of land which belong to the crown. They are generally forest, and sometimes forests where, after travelling several miles, you will scarce find a single tree; a mere waste and loss of country, in respect both of produce and population. In every great monarchy of Europe, the sale of the crown lands would produce a very large sum of money, which, if applied to the payment of the public debts, would deliver from mortgage a much greater revenue than any which those lands have ever afforded to the crown. In countries where lands, improved and cultivated very highly, and yielding, at the time of sale, as great a rent as can easily be got from them, commonly sell at thirty years purchase; the unimproved, uncultivated, and low-rented crown lands, might well be expected to sell at forty, fifty, or sixty years purchase. The crown might immediately enjoy the revenue which this great price would redeem from mortgage. In the course of a few years, it would probably enjoy another revenue. When the crown lands had become private property, they would, in the course of a few years, become well improved and well cultivated. The increase of their produce would increase the population of the country, by augmenting the revenue and consumption of the people. But the revenue which the crown derives from the duties or custom and excise, would necessarily increase with the revenue and consumption of the people.
The revenue which, in any civilized monarchy, the crown derives from the crown lands, though it appears to cost nothing to individuals, in reality costs more to the society than perhaps any other equal revenue which the crown enjoys. It would, in all cases, be for the interest of the society, to replace this revenue to the crown by some other equal revenue, and to divide the lands among the people, which could not well be done better, perhaps, than by exposing them to public sale.
Lands, for the purposes of pleasure and magnificence, parks, gardens, public walks, etc. possessions which are everywhere considered as causes of expense, not as sources of revenue, seem to be the only lands which, in a great and civilized monarchy, ought to belong to the crown.
Public stock and public lands, therefore, the two sources of revenue which may peculiarly belong to the sovereign or commonwealth, being both improper and insufficient funds for defraying the necessary expense of any great and civilized state; it remains that this expense must, the greater part of it, be defrayed by taxes of one kind or another; the people contributing a part of their own private revenue, in order to make up a public revenue to the sovereign or commonwealth.
PART II. Of Taxes.
The private revenue of individuals, it has been shown in the first book of this Inquiry, arises, ultimately from three different sources; rent, profit, and wages. Every tax must finally be paid from some one or other of those three different sources of revenue, or from all of them indifferently. I shall endeavour to give the best account I can, first, of those taxes which, it is intended should fall upon rent; secondly, of those which, it is intended should fall upon profit; thirdly, of those which, it is intended should fall upon wages; and fourthly, of those which, it is intended should fall indifferently upon all those three different sources of private revenue. The particular consideration of each of these four different sorts of taxes will divide the second part of the present chapter into four articles, three of which will require several other subdivisions. Many of these taxes, it will appear from the following review, are not finally paid from the fund, or source of revenue, upon which it is intended they should fall.
Before I enter upon the examination of particular taxes, it is necessary to premise the four following maxims with regard to taxes in general.
1 The subjects of every state ought to contribute towards the support of the government, as nearly as possible, in proportion to their respective abilities; that is, in proportion to the revenue which they respectively enjoy under the protection of the state. The expense of government to the individuals of a great nation, is like the expense of management to the joint tenants of a great estate, who are all obliged to contribute in proportion to their respective interests in the estate. In the observation or neglect of this maxim, consists what is called the equality or inequality of taxation. Every tax, it must be observed once for all, which falls finally upon one only of the three sorts of revenue above mentioned, is necessarily unequal, in so far as it does not affect the other two. In the following examination of different taxes, I shall seldom take much farther notice of this sort of inequality; but shall, in most cases, confine my observations to that inequality which is occasioned by a particular tax falling unequally upon that particular sort of private revenue which is affected by it.
2 The tax which each individual is bound to pay, ought to be certain and not arbitrary. The time of payment, the manner of payment, the quantity to be paid, ought all to be clear and plain to the contributor, and to every other person. Where it is otherwise, every person subject to the tax is put more or less in the power of the tax-gatherer, who can either aggravate the tax upon any obnoxious contributor, or extort, by the terror of such aggravation, some present or perquisite to himself. The uncertainty of taxation encourages the insolence, and favours the corruption, of an order of men who are naturally unpopular, even where they are neither insolent nor corrupt. The certainty of what each individual ought to pay is, in taxation, a matter of so great importance, that a very considerable degree of inequality, it appears, I believe, from the experience of all nations, is not near so great an evil as a very small degree of uncertainty.
3 Every tax ought to be levied at the time, or in the manner, in which it is most likely to be convenient for the contributor to pay it. A tax upon the rent of land or of houses, payable at the same term at which such rents are usually paid, is levied at the time when it is most likely to be convenient for the contributor to pay; or when he is most likely to have wherewithall to pay. Taxes upon such consumable goods as are articles of luxury, are all finally paid by the consumer, and generally in a manner that is very convenient for him. He pays them by little and little, as he has occasion to buy the goods. As he is at liberty too, either to buy or not to buy, as he pleases, it must be his own fault if he ever suffers any considerable inconveniency from such taxes.
4 Every tax ought to be so contrived, as both to take out and to keep out of the pockets of the people as little as possible, over and above what it brings into the public treasury of the state. A tax may either take out or keep out of the pockets of the people a great deal more than it brings into the public treasury, in the four following ways. First, the levying of it may require a great number of officers, whose salaries may eat up the greater part of the produce of the tax, and whose perquisites may impose another additional tax upon the people. Secondly, it may obstruct the industry of the people, and discourage them from applying to certain branches of business which might give maintenance and employment to great multitudes. While it obliges the people to pay, it may thus diminish, or perhaps destroy, some of the funds which might enable them more easily to do so. Thirdly, by the forfeitures and other penalties which those unfortunate individuals incur, who attempt unsuccessfully to evade the tax, it may frequently ruin them, and thereby put an end to the benefit which the community might have received from the employment of their capitals. An injudicious tax offers a great temptation to smuggling. But the penalties of smuggling must arise in proportion to the temptation. The law, contrary to all the ordinary principles of justice, first creates the temptation, and then punishes those who yield to it; and it commonly enhances the punishment, too, in proportion to the very circumstance which ought certainly to alleviate it, the temptation to commit the crime. {See Sketches of the History of Man page 474, and Seq.} Fourthly, by subjecting the people to the frequent visits and the odious examination of the tax-gatherers, it may expose them to much unnecessary trouble, vexation, and oppression; and though vexation is not, strictly speaking, expense, it is certainly equivalent to the expense at which every man would be willing to redeem himself from it. It is in some one or other of these four different ways, that taxes are frequently so much more burdensome to the people than they are beneficial to the sovereign.
The evident justice and utility of the foregoing maxims have recommended them, more or less, to the attention of all nations. All nations have endeavoured, to the best of their judgment, to render their taxes as equal as they could contrive; as certain, as convenient to the contributor, both the time and the mode of payment, and in proportion to the revenue which they brought to the prince, as little burdensome to the people. The following short review of some of the principal taxes which have taken place in different ages and countries, will show, that the endeavours of all nations have not in this respect been equally successful.
ARTICLE I.—Taxes upon Rent—Taxes upon the Rent of Land.
A tax upon the rent of land may either be imposed according to a certain canon, every district being valued at a curtain rent, which valuation is not afterwards to be altered; or it may be imposed in such a manner, as to vary with every variation in the real rent of the land, and to rise or fall with the improvement or declension of its cultivation.
A land tax which, like that of Great Britain, is assessed upon each district according to a certain invariable canon, though it should be equal at the time of its first establishment, necessarily becomes unequal in process of time, according to the unequal degrees of improvement or neglect in the cultivation of the different parts of the country. In England, the valuation, according to which the different counties and parishes were assessed to the land tax by the 4th of William and Mary, was very unequal even at its first establishment. This tax, therefore, so far offends against the first of the four maxims above mentioned. It is perfectly agreeable to the other three. It is perfectly certain. The time of payment for the tax, being the same as that for the rent, is as convenient as it can be to the contributor. Though the landlord is, in all cases, the real contributor, the tax is commonly advanced by the tenant, to whom the landlord is obliged to allow it in the payment of the rent. This tax is levied by a much smaller number of officers than any other which affords nearly the same revenue. As the tax upon each district does not rise with the rise of the rent, the sovereign does not share in the profits of the landlord’s improvements. Those improvements sometimes contribute, indeed, to the discharge of the other landlords of the district. But the aggravation of the tax, which this may sometimes occasion upon a particular estate, is always so very small, that it never can discourage those improvements, nor keep down the produce of the land below what it would otherwise rise to. As it has no tendency to diminish the quantity, it can have none to raise the price of that produce. It does not obstruct the industry of the people; it subjects the landlord to no other inconveniency besides the unavoidable one of paying the tax. The advantage, however, which the land-lord has derived from the invariable constancy of the valuation, by which all the lands of Great Britain are rated to the land-tax, has been principally owing to some circumstances altogether extraneous to the nature of the tax.
It has been owing in part, to the great prosperity of almost every part of the country, the rents of almost all the estates of Great Britain having, since the time when this valuation was first established, been continually rising, and scarce any of them having fallen. The landlords, therefore, have almost all gained the difference between the tax which they would have paid, according to the present rent of their estates, and that which they actually pay according to the ancient valuation. Had the state of the country been different, had rents been gradually falling in consequence of the declension of cultivation, the landlords would almost all have lost this difference. In the state of things which has happened to take place since the revolution, the constancy of the valuation has been advantageous to the landlord and hurtful to the sovereign. In a different state of things it might have been advantageous to the sovereign and hurtful to the landlord.
English
The revenue that the great body of the people obtains from land is proportional not to its rent but to its produce. Except for what is reserved as seed, the entire annual produce of a country's land is either consumed by the great body of its people each year or exchanged for something else they consume. Anything that holds the land's produce below the level it might otherwise attain reduces the revenue of the people even more than that of the landowners. The rent of land, the portion of produce belonging to its owners, is hardly anywhere in Great Britain thought to exceed one-third of the total produce. Suppose land that in one state of cultivation yields a revenue of ten millions sterling a year would in another yield a rent of twenty millions, with rent assumed to be one-third of produce in both cases. The proprietors' revenue would then be ten millions a year less than it might be; but the revenue of the great body of the people would be thirty millions a year less than it might be, after deducting only what was needed for seed. The country's population would be smaller by the number of people that thirty millions a year, always deducting seed, could support under the particular living standards and expenses of the different classes among whom the remainder was distributed.
No civilized European state today draws most of its public revenue from rent on state-owned lands. Yet all the great European monarchies still possess large tracts of crown land. These are generally forests—and sometimes forests where one can travel for several miles and hardly find a single tree—mere wastes of country in terms of both produce and population. In every great European monarchy, selling the crown lands would bring in a very large sum. Applied to the public debts, it would free from mortgage a revenue far greater than the crown has ever received from those lands. In countries where highly improved and cultivated land, yielding at the time of sale about as much rent as it readily can, commonly sells for thirty years' purchase, unimproved, uncultivated crown lands with low rents might well sell for forty, fifty, or sixty years' purchase. The crown could immediately enjoy the revenue released from mortgage by that large sale price. Within a few years it would probably enjoy another revenue. Once the crown lands became private property, they would soon be well improved and cultivated. Their increased produce would enlarge the country's population by increasing the people's revenue and consumption. The revenue the crown draws from customs and excise duties would necessarily rise along with the people's revenue and consumption.
The revenue that the crown derives from crown lands in any civilized monarchy appears to cost individuals nothing, but in fact costs society more, perhaps, than any equal revenue the crown receives. Society would always benefit if some other equal revenue replaced it for the crown and the land were distributed among the people. Perhaps no better way to do that would be to offer it for public sale.
Land devoted to pleasure and splendor—parks, gardens, public walks, etc.—possessions everywhere considered causes of expense rather than sources of revenue, seems to be the only land that should belong to the crown in a great and civilized monarchy.
Public stock and public land, then, are the two sources of revenue that may belong especially to the sovereign or commonwealth; both are unsuitable and insufficient to meet the necessary expenses of any great and civilized state. Most of those expenses must therefore be paid through taxes of one kind or another: the people contribute a portion of their private revenue to furnish public revenue to the sovereign or commonwealth.
Part II. On Taxes.
As shown in the first book of this Inquiry, individuals' private revenue ultimately arises from three sources: rent, profit, and wages. Every tax must finally be paid out of one or another of these three sources, or out of all of them without distinction. I shall try to give the best account I can, first, of taxes intended to fall on rent; second, of those intended to fall on profit; third, of those intended to fall on wages; and fourth, of those intended to fall without distinction on all three sources of private revenue. Separate treatment of these four kinds of tax will divide this second part of the present chapter into four articles, three of them requiring further subdivisions. The review that follows will show that many of these taxes are not finally paid from the fund, or source of revenue, on which they are intended to fall.
Before examining particular taxes, I must set out the following four maxims concerning taxes in general.
1 The subjects of every state should contribute to the support of government as nearly as possible in proportion to their respective abilities—that is, in proportion to the revenue each enjoys under the state's protection. The cost of government to the individuals of a great nation resembles the management expense borne by the joint tenants of a large estate: all must contribute in proportion to their respective interests in it. Whether this maxim is observed or neglected determines what is called equality or inequality of taxation. It should be noted once and for all that any tax that finally falls on only one of the three kinds of revenue mentioned above is necessarily unequal insofar as it leaves the other two unaffected. In examining particular taxes below, I shall seldom dwell further on inequality of that kind. Instead I shall usually confine my observations to the inequality caused when a particular tax falls unevenly on the particular kind of private revenue it affects.
2 The tax each individual must pay should be certain, not arbitrary. The time and manner of payment and the amount due should all be clear to the contributor and to everyone else. Otherwise anyone liable for the tax is placed to some extent in the power of the tax collector, who can increase the charge on any contributor he dislikes or use the threat of an increase to extort a gift or fee for himself. Uncertainty in taxation encourages the insolence and favors the corruption of a class of men naturally unpopular even when neither insolent nor corrupt. Certainty about what each individual owes is so important in taxation that, as the experience of all nations seems to show, a very considerable degree of inequality is a much lesser evil than even a slight degree of uncertainty.
3 Every tax should be collected at the time or in the manner most likely to make payment convenient for the contributor. A tax on the rent of land or houses, due when those rents are customarily paid, is collected when the contributor is most likely to find it convenient to pay, or most likely to have the means. Taxes on luxury goods intended for consumption are all finally paid by the consumer, generally in a way very convenient for him. He pays little by little whenever he buys the goods. Since he is also free to buy or not buy as he chooses, it is his own fault if such taxes ever cause him serious inconvenience.
4 Every tax should be designed to take and keep as little as possible out of the people's pockets beyond what it brings into the public treasury of the state. A tax can take or keep much more from them than it brings into that treasury in four ways. First, collection may require many officers, whose salaries consume most of the proceeds and whose fees impose an additional tax on the people. Second, the tax may hamper the people's industry and discourage them from entering lines of business that could support and employ great numbers. While requiring people to pay, it may thus reduce or even destroy some of the resources that would help them pay. Third, forfeitures and other penalties incurred by those unfortunate people who try and fail to evade it may ruin them, ending the benefit the community might otherwise have drawn from the employment of their capital. An ill-judged tax strongly tempts people to smuggle, while penalties for smuggling must increase in proportion to that temptation. Contrary to every ordinary principle of justice, the law first creates the temptation and then punishes those who succumb to it; it commonly makes the punishment more severe in proportion to the very circumstance that ought certainly to mitigate it—the temptation to commit the offense. [See Sketches of the History of Man page 474, and Seq.] Fourth, by exposing people to frequent visits and detestable inquiries from tax collectors, it may subject them to much needless trouble, harassment, and oppression. Though harassment is not strictly an expense, it is certainly equivalent to what anyone would willingly pay to be free of it. In one or another of these four ways, taxes are frequently much more burdensome to the people than beneficial to the sovereign.
The evident justice and usefulness of these maxims have brought them, to a greater or lesser degree, to the attention of every nation. Each has tried, as best it could judge, to make its taxes as equal as it could devise; as certain and as convenient for the contributor in both time and manner of payment; and, relative to the revenue they brought the prince, as little burdensome to the people as possible. The following brief review of some principal taxes in different ages and countries will show that nations have not been equally successful in these efforts.
Article I.—Taxes on Rent—Taxes on the Rent of Land.
A tax on the rent of land may be levied according to a fixed assessment, with each district valued at a certain rent that is never subsequently revised; or it may be made to change with every change in the land's actual rent, rising or falling as cultivation improves or declines.
A land tax assessed, like Great Britain's, on every district by an unchanging valuation inevitably becomes unequal over time, even if equal when first imposed, because cultivation improves or is neglected to differing degrees across the country. In England, the valuation on which the different counties and parishes were assessed under the 4th of William and Mary was very unequal from its introduction. In this respect the tax violates the first of the four maxims above. It conforms perfectly to the other three. It is entirely certain. Since payment falls due when rent does, the time could hardly be more convenient for the contributor. Although the landlord is always the one who actually bears the tax, the tenant usually advances it, and the landlord must credit it against the rent. This tax is collected by far fewer officers than any other bringing in nearly as much revenue. As a district's tax does not rise when rents rise, the sovereign takes no share of the gains from a landlord's improvements. Such improvements may sometimes reduce the burden on other landlords in the district. But any resulting increase in tax on a particular estate is always so small that it cannot discourage improvements or hold the land's produce below the level it might otherwise attain. Since the tax does not reduce the quantity of produce, it cannot raise its price. It does not obstruct the people's industry; and beyond the unavoidable need to pay, it imposes no inconvenience on the landlord. The benefit the landlord has gained from the unchanging valuation by which Great Britain's lands are assessed for land tax, however, has arisen chiefly from circumstances quite unrelated to the nature of the tax.
One reason is the widespread prosperity of nearly every part of the country: since the valuation was first fixed, the rents of nearly all British estates have steadily risen, and hardly any have fallen. Consequently, almost all landlords have gained the difference between the tax they would have paid on their estates' present rents and the tax they actually pay under the old valuation. If conditions had been different, and rents had gradually fallen as cultivation declined, almost all landlords would have lost that difference. Under the conditions that have prevailed since the revolution, the fixed valuation has helped landlords and harmed the sovereign. Under different conditions it might have helped the sovereign and harmed landlords.
Book V, Chapter II, 3
18th-century English
As the tax is made payable in money, so the valuation of the land is expressed in money. Since the establishment of this valuation, the value of silver has been pretty uniform, and there has been no alteration in the standard of the coin, either as to weight or fineness. Had silver risen considerably in its value, as it seems to have done in the course of the two centuries which preceded the discovery of the mines of America, the constancy of the valuation might have proved very oppressive to the landlord. Had silver fallen considerably in its value, as it certainly did for about a century at least after the discovery of those mines, the same constancy of valuation would have reduced very much this branch of the revenue of the sovereign. Had any considerable alteration been made in the standard of the money, either by sinking the same quantity of silver to a lower denomination, or by raising it to a higher; had an ounce of silver, for example, instead of being coined into five shillings and two pence, been coined either into pieces which bore so low a denomination as two shillings and seven pence, or into pieces which bore so high a one as ten shillings and four pence, it would, in the one case, have hurt the revenue of the proprietor, in the other that of the sovereign.
In circumstances, therefore, somewhat different from those which have actually taken place, this constancy of valuation might have been a very great inconveniency, either to the contributors or to the commonwealth. In the course of ages, such circumstances, however, must at some time or other happen. But though empires, like all the other works of men, have all hitherto proved mortal, yet every empire aims at immortality. Every constitution, therefore, which it is meant should be as permanent as the empire itself, ought to be convenient, not in certain circumstances only, but in all circumstances; or ought to be suited, not to those circumstances which are transitory, occasional, or accidental, but to those which are necessary, and therefore always the same.
A tax upon the rent of land, which varies with every variation of the rent, or which rises and falls according to the improvement or neglect of cultivation, is recommended by that sect of men of letters in France, who call themselves the economists, as the most equitable of all taxes. All taxes, they pretend, fall ultimately upon the rent of land, and ought, therefore, to be imposed equally upon the fund which must finally pay them. That all taxes ought to fall as equally as possible upon the fund which must finally pay them, is certainly true. But without entering into the disagreeable discussion of the metaphysical arguments by which they support their very ingenious theory, it will sufficiently appear, from the following review, what are the taxes which fall finally upon the rent of the land, and what are those which fall finally upon some other fund.
In the Venetian territory, all the arable lands which are given in lease to farmers are taxed at a tenth of the rent. {Memoires concernant les Droits, p. 240, 241.} The leases are recorded in a public register, which is kept by the officers of revenue in each province or district. When the proprietor cultivates his own lands, they are valued according to an equitable estimation, and he is allowed a deduction of one-fifth of the tax; so that for such land he pays only eight instead of ten per cent. of the supposed rent.
A land-tax of this kind is certainly more equal than the land-tax of England. It might not, perhaps, be altogether so certain, and the assessment of the tax might frequently occasion a good deal more trouble to the landlord. It might, too, be a good deal more expensive in the levying.
Such a system of administration, however, might, perhaps, be contrived, as would in a great measure both prevent this uncertainty, and moderate this expense.
The landlord and tenant, for example, might jointly be obliged to record their lease in a public register. Proper penalties might be enacted against concealing or misrepresenting any of the conditions; and if part of those penalties were to be paid to either of the two parties who informed against and convicted the other of such concealment or misrepresentation, it would effectually deter them from combining together in order to defraud the public revenue. All the conditions of the lease might be sufficiently known from such a record.
Some landlords, instead of raising the rent, take a fine for the renewal of the lease. This practice is, in most cases, the expedient of a spendthrift, who, for a sum of ready money sells a future revenue of much greater value. It is, in most cases, therefore, hurtful to the landlord; it is frequently hurtful to the tenant; and it is always hurtful to the community. It frequently takes from the tenant so great a part of his capital, and thereby diminishes so much his ability to cultivate the land, that he finds it more difficult to pay a small rent than it would otherwise have been to pay a great one. Whatever diminishes his ability to cultivate, necessarily keeps down, below what it would otherwise have been, the most important part of the revenue of the community. By rendering the tax upon such fines a good deal heavier than upon the ordinary rent, this hurtful practice might be discouraged, to the no small advantage of all the different parties concerned, of the landlord, of the tenant, of the sovereign, and of the whole community.
Some leases prescribe to the tenant a certain mode of cultivation, and a certain succession of crops, during the whole continuance of the lease. This condition, which is generally the effect of the landlord’s conceit of his own superior knowledge (a conceit in most cases very ill-founded), ought always to be considered as an additional rent, as a rent in service, instead of a rent in money. In order to discourage the practice, which is generally a foolish one, this species of rent might be valued rather high, and consequently taxed somewhat higher than common money-rents.
Some landlords, instead of a rent in money, require a rent in kind, in corn, cattle, poultry, wine, oil, etc.; others, again, require a rent in service. Such rents are always more hurtful to the tenant than beneficial to the landlord. They either take more, or keep more out of the pocket of the former, than they put into that of the latter. In every country where they take place, the tenants are poor and beggarly, pretty much according to the degree in which they take place. By valuing, in the same manner, such rents rather high, and consequently taxing them somewhat higher than common money-rents, a practice which is hurtful to the whole community, might, perhaps, be sufficiently discouraged.
When the landlord chose to occupy himself a part of his own lands, the rent might be valued according to an equitable arbitration of the farmers and landlords in the neighbourhood, and a moderate abatement of the tax might be granted to him, in the same manner as in the Venetian territory, provided the rent of the lands which he occupied did not exceed a certain sum. It is of importance that the landlord should be encouraged to cultivate a part of his own land. His capital is generally greater than that of the tenant, and, with less skill, he can frequently raise a greater produce. The landlord can afford to try experiments, and is generally disposed to do so. His unsuccessful experiments occasion only a moderate loss to himself. His successful ones contribute to the improvement and better cultivation of the whole country. It might be of importance, however, that the abatement of the tax should encourage him to cultivate to a certain extent only. If the landlords should, the greater part of them, be tempted to farm the whole of their own lands, the country (instead of sober and industrious tenants, who are bound by their own interest to cultivate as well as their capital and skill will allow them) would be filled with idle and profligate bailiffs, whose abusive management would soon degrade the cultivation, and reduce the annual produce of the land, to the diminution, not only of the revenue of their masters, but of the most important part of that of the whole society.
Such a system of administration might, perhaps, free a tax of this kind from any degree of uncertainty, which could occasion either oppression or inconveniency to the contributor; and might, at the same time, serve to introduce into the common management of land such a plan of policy as might contribute a good deal to the general improvement and good cultivation of the country.
The expense of levying a land-tax, which varied with every variation of the rent, would, no doubt, be somewhat greater than that of levying one which was always rated according to a fixed valuation. Some additional expense would necessarily be incurred, both by the different register-offices which it would be proper to establish in the different districts of the country, and by the different valuations which might occasionally be made of the lands which the proprietor chose to occupy himself. The expense of all this, however, might be very moderate, and much below what is incurred in the levying of many other taxes, which afford a very inconsiderable revenue in comparison of what might easily be drawn from a tax of this kind.
The discouragement which a variable land-tax of this kind might give to the improvement of land, seems to be the most important objection which can be made to it. The landlord would certainly be less disposed to improve, when the sovereign, who contributed nothing to the expense, was to share in the profit of the improvement. Even this objection might, perhaps, be obviated, by allowing the landlord, before he began his improvement, to ascertain, in conjunction with the officers of revenue, the actual value of his lands, according to the equitable arbitration of a certain number of landlords and farmers in the neighbourhood, equally chosen by both parties: and by rating him, according to this valuation, for such a number of years as might be fully sufficient for his complete indemnification. To draw the attention of the sovereign towards the improvement of the land, from a regard to the increase of his own revenue, is one or the principal advantages proposed by this species of land-tax. The term, therefore, allowed, for the indemnification of the landlord, ought not to be a great deal longer than what was necessary for that purpose, lest the remoteness of the interest should discourage too much this attention. It had better, however, be somewhat too long, than in any respect too short. No incitement to the attention of the sovereign can ever counterbalance the smallest discouragement to that of the landlord. The attention of the sovereign can be, at best, but a very general and vague consideration of what is likely to contribute to the better cultivation of the greater part of his dominions. The attention of the landlord is a particular and minute consideration of what is likely to be the most advantageous application of every inch of ground upon his estate. The principal attention of the sovereign ought to be, to encourage, by every means in his power, the attention both of the landlord and of the farmer, by allowing both to pursue their own interest in their own way, and according to their own judgment; by giving to both the most perfect security that they shall enjoy the full recompence of their own industry; and by procuring to both the most extensive market for every part of their produce, in consequence of establishing the easiest and safest communications, both by land and by water, through every part of his own dominions, as well as the most unbounded freedom of exportation to the dominions of all other princes.
If, by such a system of administration, a tax of this kind could be so managed as to give, not only no discouragement, but, on the contrary, some encouragement to the improvement or land, it does not appear likely to occasion any other inconveniency to the landlord, except always the unavoidable one of being obliged to pay the tax. In all the variations of the state of the society, in the improvement and in the declension of agriculture; in all the variations in the value of silver, and in all those in the standard of the coin, a tax of this kind would, of its own accord, and without any attention of government, readily suit itself to the actual situation of things, and would be equally just and equitable in all those different changes. It would, therefore, be much more proper to be established as a perpetual and unalterable regulation, or as what is called a fundamental law of the commonwealth, than any tax which was always to be levied according to a certain valuation.
Some states, instead of the simple and obvious expedient of a register of leases, have had recourse to the laborious and expensive one of an actual survey and valuation of all the lands in the country. They have suspected, probably, that the lessor and lessee, in order to defraud the public revenue, might combine to conceal the real terms of the lease. Doomsday-book seems to have been the result of a very accurate survey of this kind.
In the ancient dominions of the king of Prussia, the land-tax is assessed according to an actual survey and valuation, which is reviewed and altered from time to time. {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom, i. p. 114, 115, 116, etc.} According to that valuation, the lay proprietors pay from twenty to twenty-five per cent. of their revenue; ecclesiastics from forty to forty-five per cent. The survey and valuation of Silesia was made by order of the present king, it is said, with great accuracy. According to that valuation, the lands belonging to the bishop of Breslaw are taxed at twenty-five per cent. of their rent. The other revenues of the ecclesiastics of both religions at fifty per cent. The commanderies of the Teutonic order, and of that of Malta, at forty per cent. Lands held by a noble tenure, at thirty-eight and one-third per cent. Lands held by a base tenure, at thirty-five and one-third per cent.
The survey and valuation of Bohemia is said to have been the work of more than a hundred years. It was not perfected till after the peace of 1748, by the orders of the present empress queen. {Id. tom i. p.85, 84.} The survey of the duchy of Milan, which was begun in the time of Charles VI., was not perfected till after 1760. It is esteemed one of the most accurate that has ever been made. The survey of Savoy and Piedmont was executed under the orders of the late king of Sardinia. {Id. p. 280, etc.; also p, 287. etc. to 316.}
In the dominions of the king of Prussia, the revenue of the church is taxed much higher than that of lay proprietors. The revenue of the church is, the greater part of it, a burden upon the rent of land. It seldom happens that any part of it is applied towards the improvement of land; or is so employed as to contribute, in any respect, towards increasing the revenue of the great body of the people. His Prussian majesty had probably, upon that account, thought it reasonable that it should contribute a good deal more towards relieving the exigencies of the state. In some countries, the lands of the church are exempted from all taxes. In others, they are taxed more lightly than other lands. In the duchy of Milan, the lands which the church possessed before 1575, are rated to the tax at a third only or their value.
English
Because the tax is payable in money, the valuation of the land is also stated in money. Since that valuation was established, the value of silver has remained fairly steady, and the standard of coinage has not changed in weight or fineness. Had silver risen considerably in value, as it seems to have done during the two centuries before the discovery of the mines of America, the fixed valuation might have been very oppressive to the landlord. Had silver fallen considerably in value, as it certainly did for at least about a century after the discovery of those mines, the same fixed valuation would have greatly reduced this branch of the sovereign's revenue. Had the monetary standard changed substantially, either by lowering or raising the denomination assigned to the same amount of silver—had an ounce of silver, for example, been coined not into five shillings and two pence but into coins denominated as little as two shillings and seven pence or as much as ten shillings and four pence—the proprietor's revenue would have suffered in the first case, and the sovereign's in the second.
Under circumstances somewhat different from those that have actually prevailed, then, this fixed valuation might have caused great inconvenience either to the contributors or to the commonwealth. Over the ages, such circumstances must occur sooner or later. Yet though empires, like all other human works, have so far proved mortal, every empire aspires to immortality. Any constitutional arrangement meant to last as long as the empire itself should therefore be suitable not merely under particular conditions but under all conditions. It should suit not those that are passing, occasional, or accidental, but those that are necessary and therefore always the same.
A tax on land rent that changes whenever the rent changes, rising and falling as cultivation improves or is neglected, is recommended as the fairest of all taxes by the French school of thinkers who call themselves the economists. They maintain that all taxes ultimately fall on the rent of land and should therefore be levied evenly on the fund that must finally pay them. It is certainly true that all taxes should fall as evenly as possible on the fund that must finally pay them. But without entering the disagreeable debate over the metaphysical arguments supporting their ingenious theory, the following review will sufficiently show which taxes finally fall on land rent and which fall on some other fund.
In the Venetian territory, all arable land leased to farmers is taxed at one-tenth of its rent. [Memoires concernant les Droits, p. 240, 241.] Leases are entered in a public register kept by revenue officers in each province or district. When the proprietor cultivates his own land, it is valued according to a fair estimate, and he is allowed a reduction of one-fifth of the tax. He thus pays only eight instead of ten per cent. of the estimated rent on such land.
A land tax of this kind is certainly more equal than England's land tax. It might, perhaps, be somewhat less certain, and assessment might often cause the landlord considerably more trouble. Collection might also be considerably more costly.
It might nevertheless be possible to design a system of administration that would largely prevent this uncertainty and contain the expense.
For example, the landlord and tenant might be required jointly to record their lease in a public register. Suitable penalties could be enacted for concealing or misrepresenting any of its terms; if part of a penalty went to either party who reported the other's concealment or misrepresentation and secured a conviction, the two would be effectively deterred from conspiring to defraud the public revenue. Such a record would sufficiently disclose all the terms of the lease.
Instead of raising rent, some landlords take an upfront payment for renewing a lease. In most cases this is the expedient of a spendthrift, selling a future revenue worth far more in exchange for ready money. It therefore usually harms the landlord, often harms the tenant, and always harms the community. It frequently takes so much of the tenant's capital, diminishing his ability to cultivate the land so greatly, that he has more difficulty paying a small rent than he would otherwise have had paying a large one. Anything that diminishes his capacity to cultivate necessarily holds the most important part of the community's revenue below what it might otherwise have been. Taxing these upfront payments considerably more heavily than ordinary rent could discourage this harmful practice, to the considerable benefit of all parties: landlord, tenant, sovereign, and the entire community.
Some leases require the tenant to follow a prescribed mode of cultivation and sequence of crops throughout the lease. This condition, generally born of the landlord's conceit that he knows better—a conceit usually quite unfounded—should always count as additional rent: rent paid in service rather than in money. To discourage this generally foolish practice, such rent could be assessed rather highly and consequently taxed somewhat more heavily than ordinary monetary rent.
Some landlords demand rent in kind instead of money—in grain, cattle, poultry, wine, oil, etc.—while others demand rent in service. Such rents always harm the tenant more than they benefit the landlord. They either take or keep more from the former's pocket than they put into the latter's. Wherever such rents prevail, tenants are poor and destitute, largely in proportion to their prevalence. Assessing these rents rather highly too, and consequently taxing them somewhat more heavily than ordinary monetary rent, might sufficiently discourage a practice harmful to the whole community.
If a landlord chose to cultivate part of his own land, its rent could be valued through a fair appraisal by neighboring farmers and landlords, and he could receive a modest reduction in the tax, as in the Venetian territory, provided the rent of the land he occupied did not exceed a certain sum. Encouraging the landlord to cultivate part of his own land is important. His capital is generally greater than the tenant's, so even with less skill he can often raise more produce. The landlord can afford to experiment and is generally inclined to do so. Failed experiments cause him only a moderate loss; successful ones advance improvement and better cultivation throughout the country. Yet it might be important for the tax reduction to encourage him to cultivate only up to a certain limit. If most landlords were tempted to farm all their own lands, the country would be filled not with prudent and industrious tenants, whose own interest compels them to cultivate as well as their capital and skill permit, but with idle and dissolute bailiffs. Their abusive management would soon degrade cultivation and reduce the annual produce of the land, diminishing not only their masters' revenue but the most important part of the revenue of society as a whole.
Such a system of administration might remove from this kind of tax any uncertainty that could cause oppression or inconvenience to the contributor. It might also introduce into ordinary land management a policy that would substantially advance the country's general improvement and good cultivation.
Collecting a land tax that changed whenever rents changed would undoubtedly cost somewhat more than collecting one assessed on a fixed valuation. There would necessarily be extra expense both for the register offices that should be established in the country's different districts and for occasional valuations of land a proprietor chose to cultivate himself. Yet all this could cost very little, and far less than the collection of many other taxes yielding very little revenue compared with what could easily be raised from a tax of this kind.
The discouragement that a variable land tax might give to improving land seems the strongest objection to it. The landlord would certainly be less inclined to improve when the sovereign, contributing nothing to the expense, would share in the profit. Perhaps even this objection could be overcome by allowing the landlord, before starting his improvements, to establish the current value of his land jointly with the revenue officers, through a fair appraisal by an equal number of neighboring landlords and farmers chosen by each party; he could then be taxed on that valuation for enough years to repay his costs in full. One of the principal advantages claimed for this sort of land tax is that the prospect of increased revenue would direct the sovereign's attention to improving the land. The period allowed for repaying the landlord should therefore not be much longer than necessary, lest the distant prospect of gain weaken that attention too much. Better, however, for the period to be somewhat too long than in any respect too short. No incentive to the sovereign's attention could ever offset the slightest discouragement to the landlord's. At best the sovereign's attention can amount only to a broad and vague consideration of what might improve the cultivation of most of his dominions. The landlord's attention is a specific and detailed consideration of the most profitable use of every inch of ground on his estate. The sovereign's principal concern should be to encourage in every way he can the attention of both landlord and farmer: allowing each to pursue his own interest in his own way and according to his own judgment; giving both the fullest security that they will enjoy the whole reward of their industry; and obtaining for both the widest market for every portion of their produce by establishing the easiest and safest routes throughout his dominions, by land and water alike, as well as the most unrestricted freedom to export to the dominions of all other princes.
If such a system of administration could ensure that this tax not only failed to discourage land improvement but actually encouraged it, the tax seems unlikely to cause the landlord any other inconvenience apart from the unavoidable obligation to pay it. Through every change in society's condition, every improvement or decline in agriculture, every change in the value of silver, and every change in the coinage standard, such a tax would readily adjust itself to actual circumstances without government intervention, remaining equally just and equitable throughout. It would therefore be much more suitable as a permanent, unalterable regulation—or what is called a fundamental law of the commonwealth—than any tax always collected according to a fixed valuation.
Instead of the simple and obvious expedient of registering leases, some states have resorted to the laborious and expensive procedure of surveying and valuing all the country's land. They probably suspected that landlords and tenants might collude to hide the real terms of a lease and defraud the public revenue. Doomsday-book seems to have resulted from a very careful survey of this kind.
In the king of Prussia's original dominions, the land tax is assessed by an actual survey and valuation, reviewed and revised from time to time. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom, i. p. 114, 115, 116, etc.] Under this valuation lay proprietors pay from twenty to twenty-five per cent. of their revenue, and ecclesiastics from forty to forty-five per cent. The survey and valuation of Silesia were carried out by order of the present king, reportedly with great accuracy. Under that valuation, the lands belonging to the bishop of Breslaw are taxed at twenty-five per cent. of their rent; the other revenues of ecclesiastics of both religions at fifty per cent.; the commanderies of the Teutonic order and of that of Malta at forty per cent.; land held by noble tenure at thirty-eight and one-third per cent.; and land held by base tenure at thirty-five and one-third per cent.
The survey and valuation of Bohemia are said to have taken more than a hundred years. They were not completed until after the peace of 1748, by order of the present empress queen. [Id. tom i. p.85, 84.] The survey of the duchy of Milan, begun under Charles VI., was not completed until after 1760. It is considered one of the most accurate ever made. The survey of Savoy and Piedmont was carried out under the orders of the late king of Sardinia. [Id. p. 280, etc.; also p, 287. etc. to 316.]
In the dominions of the king of Prussia, church revenue is taxed much more heavily than the revenue of lay proprietors. Most church revenue is a burden on land rent. Seldom is any part of it devoted to improving land or otherwise employed to increase the revenue of the great body of the people. His Prussian majesty probably thought it reasonable for that reason that it contribute substantially more toward meeting the state's needs. In some countries church lands are exempt from every tax; in others they are taxed more lightly than other lands. In the duchy of Milan, lands held by the church before 1575 are assessed for tax at only a third of their value.
Book V, Chapter II, 4
18th-century English
In Silesia, lands held by a noble tenure are taxed three per cent. higher than those held by a base tenure. The honours and privileges of different kinds annexed to the former, his Prussian majesty had probably imagined, would sufficiently compensate to the proprietor a small aggravation of the tax; while, at the same time, the humiliating inferiority of the latter would be in some measure alleviated, by being taxed somewhat more lightly. In other countries, the system of taxation, instead of alleviating, aggravates this inequality. In the dominions of the king of Sardinia, and in those provinces of France which are subject to what is called the real or predial taille, the tax falls altogether upon the lands held by a base tenure. Those held by a noble one are exempted.
A land tax assessed according to a general survey and valuation, how equal soever it may be at first, must, in the course of a very moderate period of time, become unequal. To prevent its becoming so would require the continual and painful attention of government to all the variations in the state and produce of every different farm in the country. The governments of Prussia, of Bohemia, of Sardinia, and of the duchy of Milan, actually exert an attention of this kind; an attention so unsuitable to the nature of government, that it is not likely to be of long continuance, and which, if it is continued, will probably, in the long-run, occasion much more trouble and vexation than it can possibly bring relief to the contributors.
In 1666, the generality of Montauban was assessed to the real or predial taille, according, it is said, to a very exact survey and valuation. {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. ii p. 139, etc.} By 1727, this assessment had become altogether unequal. In order to remedy this inconveniency, government has found no better expedient, than to impose upon the whole generality an additional tax of a hundred and twenty thousand livres. This additional tax is rated upon all the different districts subject to the taille according to the old assessment. But it is levied only upon those which, in the actual state of things, are by that assessment under-taxed; and it is applied to the relief of those which, by the same assessment, are over-taxed. Two districts, for example, one of which ought, in the actual state of things, to be taxed at nine hundred, the other at eleven hundred livres, are, by the old assessment, both taxed at a thousand livres. Both these districts are, by the additional tax, rated at eleven hundred livres each. But this additional tax is levied only upon the district under-charged, and it is applied altogether to the relief of that overcharged, which consequently pays only nine hundred livres. The government neither gains nor loses by the additional tax, which is applied altogether to remedy the inequalities arising from the old assessment. The application is pretty much regulated according to the discretion of the intendant of the generality, and must, therefore, be in a great measure arbitrary.
Taxes which are proportioned, not in the Rent, but to the Produce of Land.
Taxes upon the produce of land are, in reality, taxes upon the rent; and though they may be originally advanced by the farmer, are finally paid by the landlord. When a certain portion of the produce is to be paid away for a tax, the farmer computes as well as he can, what the value of this portion is, one year with another, likely to amount to, and he makes a proportionable abatement in the rent which he agrees to pay to the landlord. There is no farmer who does not compute beforehand what the church tythe, which is a land tax of this kind, is, one year with another, likely to amount to.
The tythe, and every other land tax of this kind, under the appearance of perfect equality, are very unequal taxes; a certain portion of the produce being in different situations, equivalent to a very different portion of the rent. In some very rich lands, the produce is so great, that the one half of it is fully sufficient to replace to the farmer his capital employed in cultivation, together with the ordinary profits of farming stock in the neighbourhood. The other half, or, what comes to the same thing, the value of the other half, he could afford to pay as rent to the landlord, if there was no tythe. But if a tenth of the produce is taken from him in the way of tythe, he must require an abatement of the fifth part of his rent, otherwise he cannot get back his capital with the ordinary profit. In this case, the rent of the landlord, instead of amounting to a half, or five-tenths of the whole produce, will amount only to four-tenths of it. In poorer lands, on the contrary, the produce is sometimes so small, and the expense of cultivation so great, that it requires four-fifths of the whole produce, to replace to the farmer his capital with the ordinary profit. In this case, though there was no tythe, the rent of the landlord could amount to no more than one-fifth or two-tenths of the whole produce. But if the farmer pays one-tenth of the produce in the way of tythe, he must require an equal abatement of the rent of the landlord, which will thus be reduced to one-tenth only of the whole produce. Upon the rent of rich lands the tythe may sometimes be a tax of no more than one-fifth part, or four shillings in the pound; whereas upon that of poorer lands, it may sometimes be a tax of one half, or of ten shillings in the pound.
The tythe, as it is frequently a very unequal tax upon the rent, so it is always a great discouragement, both to the improvements of the landlord, and to the cultivation of the farmer. The one cannot venture to make the most important, which are generally the most expensive improvements; nor the other to raise the most valuable, which are generally, too, the most expensive crops; when the church, which lays out no part of the expense, is to share so very largely in the profit. The cultivation of madder was, for a long time, confined by the tythe to the United Provinces, which, being presbyterian countries, and upon that account exempted from this destructive tax, enjoyed a sort of monopoly of that useful dyeing drug against the rest of Europe. The late attempts to introduce the culture of this plant into England, have been made only in consequence of the statute, which enacted that five shillings an acre should be received in lieu of all manner of tythe upon madder.
As through the greater part of Europe, the church, so in many different countries of Asia, the state, is principally supported by a land tax, proportioned not to the rent, but to the produce of the land. In China, the principal revenue of the sovereign consists in a tenth part of the produce of all the lands of the empire. This tenth part, however, is estimated so very moderately, that, in many provinces, it is said not to exceed a thirtieth part of the ordinary produce. The land tax or land rent which used to be paid to the Mahometan government of Bengal, before that country fell into the hands of the English East India company, is said to have amounted to about a fifth part of the produce. The land tax of ancient Egypt is said likewise to have amounted to a fifth part.
In Asia, this sort of land tax is said to interest the sovereign in the improvement and cultivation of land. The sovereigns of China, those of Bengal while under the Mahometan govermnent, and those of ancient Egypt, are said, accordingly, to have been extremely attentive to the making and maintaining of good roads and navigable canals, in order to increase, as much as possible, both the quantity and value of every part of the produce of the land, by procuring to every part of it the most extensive market which their own dominions could afford. The tythe of the church is divided into such small portions that no one of its proprietors can have any interest of this kind. The parson of a parish could never find his account, in making a road or canal to a distant part of the country, in order to extend the market for the produce of his own particular parish. Such taxes, when destined for the maintenance of the state, have some advantages, which may serve in some measure to balance their inconveniency. When destined for the maintenance of the church, they are attended with nothing but inconveniency.
Taxes upon the produce of land may be levied, either in kind, or, according to a certain valuation in money.
The parson of a parish, or a gentleman of small fortune who lives upon his estate, may sometimes, perhaps find some advantage in receiving, the one his tythe, and the other his rent, in kind. The quantity to be collected, and the district within which it is to be collected, are so small, that they both can oversee, with their own eyes, the collection and disposal of every part of what is due to them. A gentleman of great fortune, who lived in the capital, would be in danger of suffering much by the neglect, and more by the fraud, of his factors and agents, if the rents of an estate in a distant province were to be paid to him in this manner. The loss of the sovereign, from the abuse and depredation of his tax-gatherers, would necessarily be much greater. The servants of the most careless private person are, perhaps, more under the eye of their master than those of the most careful prince; and a public revenue, which was paid in kind, would suffer so much from the mismanagement of the collectors, that a very small part of what was levied upon the people would ever arrive at the treasury of the prince. Some part of the public revenue of China, however, is said to be paid in this manner. The mandarins and other tax-gatherers will, no doubt, find their advantage in continuing the practice of a payment, which is so much more liable to abuse than any payment in money.
A tax upon the produce of land, which is levied in money, may be levied, either according to a valuation, which varies with all the variations of the market price; or according to a fixed valuation, a bushel of wheat, for example, being always valued at one and the same money price, whatever may be the state of the market. The produce of a tax levied in the former way will vary only according to the variations in the real produce of the land, according to the improvement or neglect of cultivation. The produce of a tax levied in the latter way will vary, not only according to the variations in the produce of the land, but according both to those in the value of the precious metals, and those in the quantity of those metals which is at different times contained in coin of the same denomination. The produce of the former will always bear the same proportion to the value of the real produce of the land. The produce of the latter may, at different times, bear very different proportions to that value.
When, instead either of a certain portion of the produce of land, or of the price of a certain portion, a certain sum of money is to be paid in full compensation for all tax or tythe; the tax becomes, in this case, exactly of the same nature with the land tax of England. It neither rises nor falls with the rent of the land. It neither encourages nor discourages improvement. The tythe in the greater part of those parishes which pay what is called a modus, in lieu of all other tythe is a tax of this kind. During the Mahometan government of Bengal, instead of the payment in kind of the fifth part of the produce, a modus, and, it is said, a very moderate one, was established in the greater part of the districts or zemindaries of the country. Some of the servants of the East India company, under pretence of restoring the public revenue to its proper value, have, in some provinces, exchanged this modus for a payment in kind. Under their management, this change is likely both to discourage cultivation, and to give new opportunities for abuse in the collection of the public revenue, which has fallen very much below what it was said to have been when it first fell under the management of the company. The servants of the company may, perhaps, have profited by the change, but at the expense, it is probable, both of their masters and of the country.
Taxes upon the Rent of Houses.
The rent of a house may be distinguished into two parts, of which the one may very properly be called the building-rent; the other is commonly called the ground-rent.
The building-rent is the interest or profit of the capital expended in building the house. In order to put the trade of a builder upon a level with other trades, it is necessary that this rent should be sufficient, first, to pay him the same interest which he would have got for his capital, if he had lent it upon good security; and, secondly, to keep the house in constant repair, or, what comes to the same thing, to replace, within a certain term of years, the capital which had been employed in building it. The building-rent, or the ordinary profit of building, is, therefore, everywhere regulated by the ordinary interest of money. Where the market rate of interest is four per cent. the rent of a house, which, over and above paying the ground-rent, affords six or six and a-half per cent. upon the whole expense of building, may, perhaps, afford a sufficient profit to the builder. Where the market rate of interest is five per cent. it may perhaps require seven or seven and a half per cent. If, in proportion to the interest of money, the trade of the builders affords at any time much greater profit than this, it will soon draw so much capital from other trades as will reduce the profit to its proper level. If it affords at any time much less than this, other trades will soon draw so much capital from it as will again raise that profit.
Whatever part of the whole rent of a house is over and above what is sufficient for affording this reasonable profit, naturally goes to the ground-rent; and, where the owner of the ground and the owner of the building are two different persons, is, in most cases, completely paid to the former. This surplus rent is the price which the inhabitant of the house pays for some real or supposed advantage of the situation. In country houses, at a distance from any great town, where there is plenty of ground to chuse upon, the ground-rent is scarce anything, or no more than what the ground which the house stands upon would pay, if employed in agriculture. In country villas, in the neighbourhood of some great town, it is sometimes a good deal higher; and the peculiar conveniency or beauty of situation is there frequently very well paid for. Ground-rents are generally highest in the capital, and in those particular parts of it where there happens to be the greatest demand for houses, whatever be the reason of that demand, whether for trade and business, for pleasure and society, or for mere vanity and fashion.
English
In Silesia, land held by noble tenure is taxed three per cent. more heavily than land held by base tenure. His Prussian majesty had probably supposed that the honors and privileges attached to the former would adequately compensate its proprietor for a small increase in the tax, while the humiliating inferiority of the latter would be eased somewhat by lighter taxation. In other countries, the tax system aggravates this inequality instead of easing it. In the dominions of the king of Sardinia, and in those French provinces subject to what is called the real or predial taille, the tax falls entirely on land held by base tenure. Land held by noble tenure is exempt.
A land tax assessed by a general survey and valuation, however equitable at first, must become unequal within a fairly short time. Preventing this would require the government to pay constant, painstaking attention to every change in the condition and produce of each farm in the country. The governments of Prussia, Bohemia, Sardinia, and the duchy of Milan do in fact devote themselves to such attention. It is so ill-suited to the nature of government that it is unlikely to continue for long; and if it does continue, it will probably cause taxpayers far more trouble and harassment in the long run than it can ever save them.
In 1666, the generality of Montauban was assessed for the real or predial taille on the basis, it is said, of a very exact survey and valuation. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. ii p. 139, etc.] By 1727, the assessment had become thoroughly unequal. To remedy this inconvenience, the government found no better expedient than to impose an additional tax of a hundred and twenty thousand livres on the whole generality. This additional tax is apportioned among all the districts subject to the taille according to the old assessment. But it is collected only from districts that the old assessment under-taxes in present circumstances, and used to relieve those that it over-taxes. Suppose, for example, that two districts ought now to pay nine hundred and eleven hundred livres respectively, but under the old assessment each pays a thousand livres. Under the additional tax both are assessed at eleven hundred livres each. Yet the additional tax is collected only from the undercharged district and applied entirely to the relief of the overcharged one, which consequently pays just nine hundred livres. The government neither gains nor loses from the additional tax: all of it goes to correcting inequalities created by the old assessment. Its application is largely governed by the discretion of the generality’s intendant and must therefore be largely arbitrary.
Taxes Proportioned Not to the Rent but to the Produce of Land.
Taxes on the produce of land are in reality taxes on rent; although the farmer may initially advance them, the landlord ultimately pays them. When a certain portion of the produce must be paid as tax, the farmer calculates as best he can what that portion is likely to be worth on average from year to year, and makes a corresponding deduction from the rent he agrees to pay the landlord. Every farmer estimates beforehand what the church tithe, a land tax of this kind, will probably amount to on average.
The tithe, like every other land tax of this kind, appears perfectly equal but is very unequal: the same share of the produce represents a very different share of rent in different circumstances. On some very rich land, the produce is so abundant that half of it is quite enough to replace the farmer’s capital spent on cultivation, along with the ordinary profits on farming stock in the neighborhood. Without a tithe, he could afford to pay the other half, or its value, as rent to the landlord. But if a tenth of the produce is taken as tithe, he must demand a reduction of one-fifth in his rent; otherwise he cannot recover his capital and ordinary profit. In this case the landlord’s rent will be not half, or five-tenths, of the total produce, but only four-tenths. On poorer land, by contrast, the produce is sometimes so small and cultivation so costly that four-fifths of the entire produce is needed to replace the farmer’s capital with ordinary profit. Even without a tithe, the landlord’s rent could then be no more than one-fifth, or two-tenths, of the produce. But if the farmer pays a tenth of the produce as tithe, he must demand an equal reduction in the landlord’s rent, leaving it at only one-tenth of the total produce. The tithe may thus tax the rent of rich land at no more than one-fifth, or four shillings in the pound, while on poorer land it may tax rent at one-half, or ten shillings in the pound.
As the tithe is frequently a very unequal tax on rent, so it is always a powerful deterrent both to the landlord’s improvements and to the farmer’s cultivation. The landlord cannot venture to undertake the most important improvements, which are generally the most expensive; nor can the farmer grow the most valuable crops, which are generally the most expensive too, when the church, paying none of the costs, takes so large a share of the profit. For a long time the tithe confined the cultivation of madder to the United Provinces. As Presbyterian countries exempt from this destructive tax, they enjoyed something like a monopoly of this useful dyeing plant over the rest of Europe. The recent efforts to introduce its cultivation into England were made only because of the statute providing for a payment of five shillings an acre in place of every kind of tithe on madder.
As the church is supported mainly by a tax on land produce rather than rent in most of Europe, so the state is supported in this way in many countries of Asia. In China, the sovereign’s principal revenue is a tenth of the produce of all the empire’s land. This tenth, however, is estimated so modestly that in many provinces, it is said, it does not exceed a thirtieth of ordinary produce. The land tax or land rent formerly paid to the Mahometan government of Bengal, before the country passed into the hands of the English East India company, is said to have amounted to about a fifth of the produce. The land tax of ancient Egypt is likewise said to have amounted to a fifth.
In Asia, a land tax of this sort is said to give the sovereign a stake in improving and cultivating the land. Accordingly, the sovereigns of China, of Bengal under the Mahometan government, and of ancient Egypt are said to have been extremely attentive to building and maintaining good roads and navigable canals. Their aim was to increase both the quantity and the value of every part of the land’s produce as much as possible by securing for it the widest market their dominions could offer. The church tithe is divided into such small portions that none of its proprietors has any such interest. A parish priest could never find it worthwhile to build a road or canal to a distant part of the country to enlarge the market for the produce of his own parish. When such taxes support the state, they have some advantages that may partly offset their inconvenience. When they support the church, they bring nothing but inconvenience.
Taxes on land produce may be collected either in kind or in money according to a particular valuation.
A parish priest or a man of modest means living on his estate may sometimes benefit from receiving his tithe or his rent in kind. Both the amount to be collected and the area of collection are small enough for each to oversee personally the collection and disposal of all that is owed him. A wealthy man living in the capital would risk losing much through the negligence, and more through the dishonesty, of his factors and agents if rents from an estate in a distant province were paid to him in this way. The sovereign would necessarily lose much more through the abuses and depredations of his tax collectors. The servants of even the most careless private individual are perhaps watched more closely by their master than the servants of the most careful prince. A public revenue paid in kind would suffer so much from collectors’ mismanagement that only a very small part of what was collected from the people would ever reach the prince’s treasury. Some of China’s public revenue, however, is said to be paid this way. The mandarins and other tax collectors will no doubt see the advantage of preserving a form of payment so much more open to abuse than payment in money.
A tax on land produce collected in money may be based either on a valuation that changes with every change in the market price, or on a fixed valuation—for example, always assigning a bushel of wheat the same money price, whatever the market conditions. The revenue from a tax levied in the first way will vary only with changes in the land’s actual produce, as cultivation improves or declines. The revenue from one levied in the second way will vary not only with the land’s produce but also with changes in the value of precious metals and in the amount of those metals contained at different times in coins of the same denomination. Revenue from the first will always bear the same proportion to the value of the land’s actual produce. Revenue from the second may bear very different proportions to that value at different times.
When a fixed sum of money, instead of either a share of the land’s produce or the price of such a share, is paid in full settlement of every tax or tithe, the tax has precisely the character of England’s land tax. It neither rises nor falls with the rent of the land. It neither encourages nor discourages improvement. The tithe in most parishes that pay what is called a modus in place of every other tithe is such a tax. Under the Mahometan government of Bengal, a modus—and, it is said, a very moderate one—was established in most districts or zemindaries in place of payment in kind of a fifth of the produce. In some provinces, servants of the East India company have exchanged this modus for payment in kind, claiming to restore public revenue to its proper value. Under their administration, this change is likely both to discourage cultivation and to create fresh opportunities for abuses in collecting the public revenue, which has fallen far below what it was said to be when the company first took charge of it. The company’s servants may perhaps have gained from the change, but probably at the expense of both their masters and the country.
Taxes on the Rent of Houses.
The rent of a house may be divided into two parts. One may properly be called building-rent; the other is commonly called ground-rent.
Building-rent is the interest or profit on the capital spent constructing the house. For building to be on a level with other trades, this rent must be sufficient, first, to pay the builder the interest he would have earned by lending his capital on good security; and second, to keep the house in constant repair, or, what amounts to the same thing, to replace within a certain number of years the capital used in building it. Building-rent, or the ordinary profit of building, is therefore everywhere governed by the ordinary interest on money. Where the market interest rate is four per cent., a house whose rent, after paying ground-rent, yields six or six and a-half per cent. on the entire building cost may perhaps give its builder a sufficient profit. Where the market rate is five per cent., it may require seven or seven and a half per cent. If, compared with interest on money, building at any time yields much greater profit than this, it will soon attract enough capital from other trades to bring that profit down to its proper level. If it yields much less, other trades will soon draw away enough capital to raise it again.
Whatever portion of a house’s total rent exceeds what is needed to yield this reasonable profit naturally becomes ground-rent; where the owner of the land and owner of the building are different people, it is in most cases paid in full to the former. This surplus rent is the price the resident pays for some real or imagined advantage of the location. In country houses far from any large town, where there is plenty of land to choose from, ground-rent is scarcely anything, or no more than the land beneath the house would yield if farmed. For country villas near a large town, it is sometimes considerably higher, and the special convenience or beauty of their location is frequently well paid for. Ground-rents are generally highest in the capital, and in those particular parts of it where demand for houses is greatest, whatever drives that demand—trade and business, pleasure and society, or mere vanity and fashion.
Book V, Chapter II, 5
18th-century English
A tax upon house-rent, payable by the tenant, and proportioned to the whole rent of each house, could not, for any considerable time at least, affect the building-rent. If the builder did not get his reasonable profit, he would be obliged to quit the trade; which, by raising the demand for building, would, in a short time, bring back his profit to its proper level with that of other trades. Neither would such a tax fall altogether upon the ground-rent; but it would divide itself in such a manner, as to fall partly upon the inhabitant of the house, and partly upon the owner of the ground.
Let us suppose, for example, that a particular person judges that he can afford for house-rent all expense of sixty pounds a-year; and let us suppose, too, that a tax of four shillings in the pound, or of one-fifth, payable by the inhabitant, is laid upon house-rent. A house of sixty pounds rent will, in that case, cost him seventy-two pounds a-year, which is twelve pounds more than he thinks he can afford. He will, therefore, content himself with a worse house, or a house of fifty pounds rent, which, with the additional ten pounds that he must pay for the tax, will make up the sum of sixty pounds a-year, the expense which he judges he can afford, and, in order to pay the tax, he will give up a part of the additional conveniency which he might have had from a house of ten pounds a-year more rent. He will give up, I say, a part of this additional conveniency; for he will seldom be obliged to give up the whole, but will, in consequence of the tax, get a better house for fifty pounds a-year, than he could have got if there had been no tax for as a tax of this kind, by taking away this particular competitor, must diminish the competition for houses of sixty pounds rent, so it must likewise diminish it for those of fifty pounds rent, and in the same manner for those of all other rents, except the lowest rent, for which it would for some time increase the competition. But the rents of every class of houses for which the competition was diminished, would necessarily be more or less reduced. As no part of this reduction, however, could for any considerable time at least, affect the building-rent, the whole of it must, in the long-run, necessarily fall upon the ground-rent. The final payment of this tax, therefore, would fall partly upon the inhabitant of the house, who, in order to pay his share, would be obliged to give up a part of his conveniency; and partly upon the owner of the ground, who, in order to pay his share, would be obliged to give up a part of his revenue. In what proportion this final payment would be divided between them, it is not, perhaps, very easy to ascertain. The division would probably be very different in different circumstances, and a tax of this kind might, according to those different circumstances, affect very unequally, both the inhabitant of the house and the owner of the ground.
The inequality with which a tax of this kind might fall upon the owners of different ground-rents, would arise altogether from the accidental inequality of this division. But the inequality with which it might fall upon the inhabitants of different houses, would arise, not only from this, but from another cause. The proportion of the expense of house-rent to the whole expense of living, is different in the different degrees of fortune. It is, perhaps, highest in the highest degree, and it diminishes gradually through the inferior degrees, so as in general to be lowest in the lowest degree. The necessaries of life occasion the great expense of the poor. They find it difficult to get food, and the greater part of their little revenue is spent in getting it. The luxuries and vanities of life occasion the principal expense of the rich; and a magnificent house embellishes and sets off to the best advantage all the other luxuries and vanities which they possess. A tax upon house-rents, therefore, would in general fall heaviest upon the rich; and in this sort of inequality there would not, perhaps, be any thing very unreasonable. It is not very unreasonable that the rich should contribute to the public expense, not only in proportion to their revenue, but something more than in that proportion.
The rent of houses, though it in some respects resembles the rent of land, is in one respect essentially different from it. The rent of land is paid for the use of a productive subject. The land which pays it produces it. The rent of houses is paid for the use of an unproductive subject. Neither the house, nor the ground which it stands upon, produce anything. The person who pays the rent, therefore, must draw it from some other source of revenue, distinct from and independent of this subject. A tax upon the rent of houses, so far as it falls upon the inhabitants, must be drawn from the same source as the rent itself, and must be paid from their revenue, whether derived from the wages of labour, the profits of stock, or the rent of land. So far as it falls upon the inhabitants, it is one of those taxes which fall, not upon one only, but indifferently upon all the three different sources of revenue; and is, in every respect, of the same nature as a tax upon any other sort of consumable commodities. In general, there is not perhaps, any one article of expense or consumption by which the liberality or narrowness of a man’s whole expense can be better judged of than by his house-rent. A proportional tax upon this particular article of expense might, perhaps, produce a more considerable revenue than any which has hitherto been drawn from it in any part of Europe. If the tax, indeed, was very high, the greater part of people would endeavour to evade it as much as they could, by contenting themselves with smaller houses, and by turning the greater part of their expense into some other channel.
The rent of houses might easily be ascertained with sufficient accuracy, by a policy of the same kind with that which would be necessary for ascertaining the ordinary rent of land. Houses not inhabited ought to pay no tax. A tax upon them would fall altogether upon the proprietor, who would thus be taxed for a subject which afforded him neither conveniency nor revenue. Houses inhabited by the proprietor ought to be rated, not according to the expense which they might have cost in building, but according to the rent which an equitable arbitration might judge them likely to bring if leased to a tenant. If rated according to the expense which they might have cost in building, a tax of three or four shillings in the pound, joined with other taxes, would ruin almost all the rich and great families of this, and, I believe, of every other civilized country. Whoever will examine with attention the different town and country houses of some of the richest and greatest families in this country, will find that, at the rate of only six and a-half, or seven per cent. upon the original expense of building, their house-rent is nearly equal to the whole neat rent of their estates. It is the accumulated expense of several successive generations, laid out upon objects of great beauty and magnificence, indeed, but, in proportion to what they cost, of very small exchangeable value. {Since the first publication of this book, a tax nearly upon the above-mentioned principles has been imposed.}
Ground-rents are a still more proper subject of taxation than the rent of houses. A tax upon ground-rents would not raise the rent of houses; it would fall altogether upon the owner of the ground-rent, who acts always as a monopolist, and exacts the greatest rent which can be got for the use of his ground. More or less can be got for it, according as the competitors happen to be richer or poorer, or can afford to gratify their fancy for a particular spot of ground at a greater or smaller expense. In every country, the greatest number of rich competitors is in the capital, and it is there accordingly that the highest ground-rents are always to be found. As the wealth of those competitors would in no respect be increased by a tax upon ground-rents, they would not probably be disposed to pay more for the use of the ground. Whether the tax was to be advanced by the inhabitant or by the owner of the ground, would be of little importance. The more the inhabitant was obliged to pay for the tax, the less he would incline to pay for the ground; so that the final payment of the tax would fall altogether upon the owner of the ground-rent. The ground-rents of uninhabited houses ought to pay no tax. Both ground-rents, and the ordinary rent of land, are a species of revenue which the owner, in many cases, enjoys without any care or attention of his own. Though a part of this revenue should be taken from him in order to defray the expenses of the state, no discouragement will thereby be given to any sort of industry. The annual produce of the land and labour of the society, the real wealth and revenue of the great body of the people, might be the same after such a tax as before. Ground-rents, and the ordinary rent of land, are therefore, perhaps, the species of revenue which can best bear to have a peculiar tax imposed upon them.
Ground-rents seem, in this respect, a more proper subject of peculiar taxation, than even the ordinary rent of land. The ordinary rent of land is, in many cases, owing partly, at least, to the attention and good management of the landlord. A very heavy tax might discourage, too much, this attention and good management. Ground-rents, so far as they exceed the ordinary rent of land, are altogether owing to the good government of the sovereign, which, by protecting the industry either of the whole people or of the inhabitants of some particular place, enables them to pay so much more than its real value for the ground which they build their houses upon; or to make to its owner so much more than compensation for the loss which he might sustain by this use of it. Nothing can be more reasonable, than that a fund, which owes its existence to the good government of the state, should be taxed peculiarly, or should contribute something more than the greater part of other funds, towards the support of that government.
Though, in many different countries of Europe, taxes have been imposed upon the rent of houses, I do not know of any in which ground-rents have been considered as a separate subject of taxation. The contrivers of taxes have, probably, found some difficulty in ascertaining what part of the rent ought to be considered as ground-rent, and what part ought to be considered as building-rent. It should not, however, seem very difficult to distinguish those two parts of the rent from one another.
In Great Britain the rent of houses is supposed to be taxed in the same proportion as the rent of land, by what is called the annual land tax. The valuation, according to which each different parish and district is assessed to this tax, is always the same. It was originally extremely unequal, and it still continues to be so. Through the greater part of the kingdom this tax falls still more lightly upon the rent of houses than upon that of land. In some few districts only, which were originally rated high, and in which the rents of houses have fallen considerably, the land tax of three or four shillings in the pound is said to amount to an equal proportion of the real rent of houses. Untenanted houses, though by law subject to the tax, are, in most districts, exempted from it by the favour of the assessors; and this exemption sometimes occasions some little variation in the rate of particular houses, though that of the district is always the same. Improvements of rent, by new buildings, repairs, etc. go to the discharge of the district, which occasions still further variations in the rate of particular houses.
In the province of Holland, {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. p. 223.} every house is taxed at two and a-half per cent. of its value, without any regard, either to the rent which it actually pays, or to the circumstance of its being tenanted or untenanted. There seems to be a hardship in obliging the proprietor to pay a tax for an untenanted house, from which he can derive no revenue, especially so very heavy a tax. In Holland, where the market rate of interest does not exceed three per cent., two and a-half per cent. upon the whole value of the house must, in most cases, amount to more than a third of the building-rent, perhaps of the whole rent. The valuation, indeed, according to which the houses are rated, though very unequal, is said to be always below the real value. When a house is rebuilt, improved, or enlarged, there is a new valuation, and the tax is rated accordingly.
The contrivers of the several taxes which in England have, at different times, been imposed upon houses, seem to have imagined that there was some great difficulty in ascertaining, with tolerable exactness, what was the real rent of every house. They have regulated their taxes, therefore, according to some more obvious circumstance, such as they had probably imagined would, in most cases, bear some proportion to the rent.
The first tax of this kind was hearth-money; or a tax of two shillings upon every hearth. In order to ascertain how many hearths were in the house, it was necessary that the tax-gatherer should enter every room in it. This odious visit rendered the tax odious. Soon after the Revolution, therefore, it was abolished as a badge of slavery.
The next tax of this kind was a tax of two shillings upon every dwelling-house inhabited. A house with ten windows to pay four shillings more. A house with twenty windows and upwards to pay eight shillings. This tax was afterwards so far altered, that houses with twenty windows, and with less than thirty, were ordered to pay ten shillings, and those with thirty windows and upwards to pay twenty shillings. The number of windows can, in most cases, be counted from the outside, and, in all cases, without entering every room in the house. The visit of the tax-gatherer, therefore, was less offensive in this tax than in the hearth-money.
This tax was afterwards repealed, and in the room of it was established the window-tax, which has undergone two several alterations and augmentations. The window tax, as it stands at present (January 1775), over and above the duty of three shillings upon every house in England, and of one shilling upon every house in Scotland, lays a duty upon every window, which in England augments gradually from twopence, the lowest rate upon houses with not more than seven windows, to two shillings, the highest rate upon houses with twenty-five windows and upwards.
The principal objection to all such taxes is their inequality; an inequality of the worst kind, as they must frequently fall much heavier upon the poor than upon the rich. A house of ten pounds rent in a country town, may sometimes have more windows than a house of five hundred pounds rent in London; and though the inhabitant of the former is likely to be a much poorer man than that of the latter, yet, so far as his contribution is regulated by the window tax, he must contribute more to the support of the state. Such taxes are, therefore, directly contrary to the first of the four maxims above mentioned. They do not seem to offend much against any of the other three.
English
A tax on house-rent, payable by the tenant and proportional to the total rent of each house, could not affect building-rent, at least for any considerable time. If the builder did not earn a reasonable profit, he would have to leave the trade. The resulting increase in demand for building would soon bring his profit back into line with that of other trades. Nor would such a tax fall entirely on ground-rent: it would be divided between the resident of the house and the owner of the land.
Suppose, for example, that someone decides he can afford to spend altogether sixty pounds a-year on housing, and that a tax of four shillings in the pound, or one-fifth, payable by the resident, is imposed on house-rent. A house renting for sixty pounds would then cost him seventy-two pounds a-year, twelve pounds more than he thinks he can afford. He will therefore settle for an inferior house, one renting for fifty pounds, which, with the additional ten pounds he must pay in tax, makes up the sixty pounds a-year he believes he can afford. To pay the tax he sacrifices part of the extra convenience a house costing ten pounds a-year more in rent would have given him. Part, I say, because he will seldom have to sacrifice all of it: as a result of the tax he will obtain a better house for fifty pounds a-year than he could have obtained without it. For by removing this particular competitor from the market for sixty-pound houses, such a tax must reduce competition for them; it must likewise reduce competition for fifty-pound houses, and similarly for houses at every other rent except the very lowest, where it would increase competition for a time. Rents for every class of house facing reduced competition would necessarily fall to some degree. Since none of this reduction could affect building-rent for any considerable time, all of it must ultimately come out of ground-rent. The tax would therefore ultimately be paid partly by the resident, who would have to surrender some convenience to pay his share, and partly by the owner of the land, who would have to surrender some revenue to pay his. It is perhaps not easy to determine the proportion each would bear. The division would probably vary greatly with circumstances, so that a tax of this kind might affect both residents and landowners very unequally.
The unequal burden of such a tax on owners of different ground-rents would arise entirely from the chance inequalities of this division. But its unequal burden on the residents of different houses would arise not only from this, but from another cause. House-rent represents a different proportion of total living expenses at different levels of fortune. It is perhaps highest at the highest level, gradually declines through the lower levels, and is generally lowest at the very bottom. Necessities of life are the poor’s greatest expense. Food is hard for them to obtain, and they spend most of their small revenue on it. The luxuries and vanities of life are the rich person’s principal expense; a magnificent house adorns and displays all the other luxuries and vanities they possess to best advantage. A tax on house-rents would therefore generally fall most heavily on the rich, and there is perhaps nothing very unreasonable in this inequality. It is not unreasonable that the rich should contribute to public expenses not only in proportion to their revenue, but somewhat more than that proportion.
Although the rent of houses resembles the rent of land in some respects, it differs fundamentally in one. Land rent is paid for the use of something productive: the land that pays it produces it. House rent is paid for the use of something unproductive: neither the house nor the land beneath it produces anything. The person paying rent must therefore obtain it from some other source of revenue, distinct from and independent of the rented property. A tax on house rent, insofar as it falls on residents, must come from the same source as the rent itself and be paid from their revenue, whether that comes from the wages of labor, the profits of stock, or the rent of land. Insofar as it falls on residents, it is one of the taxes that fall not on any single source of revenue but indiscriminately on all three. In every respect it is of the same nature as a tax on any other kind of consumable commodity. In general, perhaps no single expense or item of consumption gives a better measure of a person’s overall extravagance or thrift than house-rent. A proportional tax on this particular expense might perhaps yield more substantial revenue than any tax that has yet been drawn from it in any part of Europe. If the tax were very high, however, most people would try to evade it as much as possible by accepting smaller houses and directing most of their spending elsewhere.
House rents could easily be established with sufficient accuracy by the same kind of policy that would be needed to establish the ordinary rent of land. Unoccupied houses ought not to pay tax. Such a tax would fall entirely on the proprietor, taxing him on property that gave him neither convenience nor revenue. Houses occupied by their owners ought to be assessed not by what they may have cost to build, but by the rent that fair arbitration judges they would probably command if let to tenants. If assessed by what they may have cost to build, a tax of three or four shillings in the pound, together with other taxes, would ruin almost every rich and prominent family in this and, I believe, every other civilized country. Anyone who carefully examines the different town and country houses belonging to some of this country’s richest and greatest families will find that, reckoned at only six and a-half, or seven per cent. of the original building cost, the rent on their houses nearly equals the entire net rent of their estates. This is the accumulated spending of several generations on objects of great beauty and magnificence, certainly, but of very little exchangeable value in proportion to their cost. [Since the first publication of this book, a tax nearly upon the above-mentioned principles has been imposed.]
Ground-rents are an even better subject for taxation than house rents. A tax on ground-rents would not raise house rents: it would fall entirely on the owner of the ground-rent, who always acts as a monopolist and demands the highest rent obtainable for the use of his land. How much he can obtain depends on whether his prospective tenants are richer or poorer, and whether they can afford to indulge their preference for a particular site at greater or lesser cost. In every country, the capital has the greatest number of wealthy prospective tenants and therefore always has the highest ground-rents. A tax on ground-rents would not increase their wealth in any way, so they would probably not be willing to pay more for the use of the land. Whether the resident or the landowner advanced the tax would matter little. The more the resident had to pay in tax, the less he would be inclined to pay for the land; thus the entire final burden would fall on the owner of the ground-rent. Ground-rents on unoccupied houses ought not to be taxed. Both ground-rents and ordinary land rent are forms of revenue that their owners often enjoy without any effort or attention of their own. Taking part of this revenue to meet the state’s expenses would not discourage any kind of industry. Society’s annual produce from land and labor—the real wealth and revenue of the great majority of its people—might be the same after such a tax as before. Ground-rents and ordinary land rent are therefore perhaps the forms of revenue best able to bear a special tax.
In this respect, ground-rents appear an even better subject for special taxation than ordinary land rent. In many cases ordinary land rent owes something, at least, to the landlord’s attention and good management. A very heavy tax might discourage that attention and management too much. Ground-rents, to the extent that they exceed ordinary land rent, owe everything to good government by the sovereign. By protecting the industry either of the whole people or of the inhabitants of a particular place, it enables them to pay much more than the land’s actual value for the ground beneath their houses—or to give its owner far more than compensation for any loss caused by this use of it. Nothing could be more reasonable than specially taxing a fund that owes its existence to the state’s good government, or requiring it to contribute rather more than most other funds to maintaining that government.
Though taxes on house rents have been imposed in many European countries, I know of none in which ground-rents have been treated as a distinct subject of taxation. The designers of taxes have probably found some difficulty in determining which portion of the rent should count as ground-rent and which as building-rent. It does not, however, seem very difficult to distinguish the two.
In Great Britain, what is called the annual land tax is supposed to tax house rents in the same proportion as land rent. The valuation used to assess each parish and district never changes. It was extremely unequal from the beginning and remains so. In most of the kingdom this tax still falls more lightly on house rent than on land rent. Only in a few districts that were originally assessed highly and where house rents have since fallen considerably is the land tax of three or four shillings in the pound said to equal that proportion of actual house rent. Though unoccupied houses are legally subject to the tax, in most districts assessors exempt them as a favor. This exemption sometimes produces small variations in the rate for individual houses, though the district’s rate is always the same. Increases in rent arising from new buildings, repairs, etc. help pay off the district’s assessment, causing still more variation in the rates on individual houses.
In the province of Holland, [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. p. 223.] each house is taxed at two and a-half per cent. of its value, regardless of its actual rent or whether it is occupied. There seems to be hardship in requiring a proprietor to pay tax on an unoccupied house that yields him no revenue, especially so heavy a tax. In Holland, where the market rate of interest does not exceed three per cent., two and a-half per cent. of the house’s total value must in most cases exceed a third of the building-rent, perhaps even of the entire rent. The valuation used to assess houses, however, though very unequal, is said always to be below their actual value. When a house is rebuilt, improved, or enlarged, it is valued anew and taxed accordingly.
Those who devised the various taxes imposed on houses in England at different times seem to have thought it very difficult to determine the actual rent of every house with reasonable accuracy. They therefore based their taxes on something more readily observed that they probably thought would generally bear some relation to the rent.
The first such tax was hearth-money, a tax of two shillings per hearth. To determine how many hearths a house contained, the tax collector had to enter every room. This offensive visit made the tax itself offensive. It was therefore abolished soon after the Revolution as a badge of slavery.
The next such tax was two shillings on every inhabited dwelling-house, with four shillings more for a house with ten windows and eight shillings for a house with twenty windows or more. The tax was later changed so that houses with twenty windows but fewer than thirty paid ten shillings, and houses with thirty windows or more paid twenty shillings. Windows can usually be counted from outside and can always be counted without entering every room of the house. The tax collector’s visit was therefore less intrusive under this tax than under hearth-money.
That tax was later repealed and replaced by the window tax, which has since been twice altered and increased. As it now stands (January 1775), beyond the duty of three shillings on each house in England and one shilling on each house in Scotland, the window tax imposes a duty on every window. In England this rises gradually from twopence, the lowest rate on houses with no more than seven windows, to two shillings, the highest rate on houses with twenty-five windows or more.
The principal objection to all these taxes is their inequality—and inequality of the worst sort, because they often fall much more heavily on the poor than on the rich. A house renting for ten pounds in a provincial town may sometimes have more windows than a house renting for five hundred pounds in London. Though the resident of the former is likely far poorer than the resident of the latter, insofar as their contributions are set by the window tax, the former must contribute more to the support of the state. Such taxes therefore directly violate the first of the four maxims mentioned above. They do not appear to violate any of the other three seriously.
Book V, Chapter II, 6
18th-century English
The natural tendency of the window tax, and of all other taxes upon houses, is to lower rents. The more a man pays for the tax, the less, it is evident, he can afford to pay for the rent. Since the imposition of the window tax, however, the rents of houses have, upon the whole, risen more or less, in almost every town and village of Great Britain, with which I am acquainted. Such has been, almost everywhere, the increase of the demand for houses, that it has raised the rents more than the window tax could sink them; one of the many proofs of the great prosperity of the country, and of the increasing revenue of its inhabitants. Had it not been for the tax, rents would probably have risen still higher.
ARTICLE II.—Taxes upon Profit, or upon the Revenue arising from Stock.
The revenue or profit arising from stock naturally divides itself into two parts; that which pays the interest, and which belongs to the owner of the stock; and that surplus part which is over and above what is necessary for paying the interest.
This latter part of profit is evidently a subject not taxable directly. It is the compensation, and, in most cases, it is no more than a very moderate compensation for the risk and trouble of employing the stock. The employer must have this compensation, otherwise he cannot, consistently with his own interest, continue the employment. If he was taxed directly, therefore, in proportion to the whole profit, he would be obliged either to raise the rate of his profit, or to charge the tax upon the interest of money; that is, to pay less interest. If he raised the rate of his profit in proportion to the tax, the whole tax, though it might be advanced by him, would be finally paid by one or other of two different sets of people, according to the different ways in which he might employ the stock of which he had the management. If he employed it as a farming stock, in the cultivation of land, he could raise the rate of his profit only by retaining a greater portion, or, what comes to the same thing, the price of a greater portion, of the produce of the land; and as this could be done only by a reduction of rent, the final payment of the tax would fall upon the landlord. If he employed it as a mercantile or manufacturing stock, he could raise the rate of his profit only by raising the price of his goods; in which case, the final payment of the tax would fall altogether upon the consumers of those goods. If he did not raise the rate of his profit, he would be obliged to charge the whole tax upon that part of it which was allotted for the interest of money. He could afford less interest for whatever stock he borrowed, and the whole weight of the tax would, in this case, fall ultimately upon the interest of money. So far as he could not relieve himself from the tax in the one way, he would be obliged to relieve himself in the other.
The interest of money seems, at first sight, a subject equally capable of being taxed directly as the rent of land. Like the rent of land, it is a neat produce, which remains, after completely compensating the whole risk and trouble of employing the stock. As a tax upon the rent of land cannot raise rents, because the neat produce which remains, after replacing the stock of the farmer, together with his reasonable profit, cannot be greater after the tax than before it, so, for the same reason, a tax upon the interest of money could not raise the rate of interest; the quantity of stock or money in the country, like the quantity of land, being supposed to remain the same after the tax as before it. The ordinary rate of profit, it has been shewn, in the first book, is everywhere regulated by the quantity of stock to be employed, in proportion to the quantity of the employment, or of the business which must be done by it. But the quantity of the employment, or of the business to be done by stock, could neither be increased nor diminished by any tax upon the interest of money. If the quantity of the stock to be employed, therefore, was neither increased nor diminished by it, the ordinary rate of profit would necessarily remain the same. But the portion of this profit, necessary for compensating the risk and trouble of the employer, would likewise remain the same; that risk and trouble being in no respect altered. The residue, therefore, that portion which belongs to the owner of the stock, and which pays the interest of money, would necessarily remain the same too. At first sight, therefore, the interest of money seems to be a subject as fit to be taxed directly as the rent of land.
There are, however, two different circumstances, which render the interest of money a much less proper subject of direct taxation than the rent of land.
First, the quantity and value of the land which any man possesses, can never be a secret, and can always be ascertained with great exactness. But the whole amount of the capital stock which he possesses is almost always a secret, and can scarce ever be ascertained with tolerable exactness. It is liable, besides, to almost continual variations. A year seldom passes away, frequently not a month, sometimes scarce a single day, in which it does not rise or fall more or less. An inquisition into every man’s private circumstances, and an inquisition which, in order to accommodate the tax to them, watched over all the fluctuations of his fortune, would be a source of such continual and endless vexation as no person could support.
Secondly, land is a subject which cannot be removed; whereas stock easily may. The proprietor of land is necessarily a citizen of the particular country in which his estate lies. The proprietor of stock is properly a citizen of the world, and is not necessarily attached to any particular country. He would be apt to abandon the country in which he was exposed to a vexatious inquisition, in order to be assessed to a burdensome tax; and would remove his stock to some other country, where he could either carry on his business, or enjoy his fortune more at his ease. By removing his stock, he would put an end to all the industry which it had maintained in the country which he left. Stock cultivates land; stock employs labour. A tax which tended to drive away stock from any particular country, would so far tend to dry up every source of revenue, both to the sovereign and to the society. Not only the profits of stock, but the rent of land, and the wages of labour, would necessarily be more or less diminished by its removal.
The nations, accordingly, who have attempted to tax the revenue arising from stock, instead of any severe inquisition of this kind, have been obliged to content themselves with some very loose, and, therefore, more or less arbitrary estimation. The extreme inequality and uncertainty of a tax assessed in this manner, can be compensated only by its extreme moderation; in consequence of which, every man finds himself rated so very much below his real revenue, that he gives himself little disturbance though his neighbour should be rated somewhat lower.
By what is called the land tax in England, it was intended that the stock should be taxed in the same proportion as land. When the tax upon land was at four shillings in the pound, or at one-fifth of the supposed rent, it was intended that stock should be taxed at one-fifth of the supposed interest. When the present annual land tax was first imposed, the legal rate of interest was six per cent. Every hundred pounds stock, accordingly, was supposed to be taxed at twenty-four shillings, the fifth part of six pounds. Since the legal rate of interest has been reduced to five per cent. every hundred pounds stock is supposed to be taxed at twenty shillings only. The sum to be raised, by what is called the land tax, was divided between the country and the principal towns. The greater part of it was laid upon the country; and of what was laid upon the towns, the greater part was assessed upon the houses. What remained to be assessed upon the stock or trade of the towns (for the stock upon the land was not meant to be taxed) was very much below the real value of that stock or trade. Whatever inequalities, therefore, there might be in the original assessment, gave little disturbance. Every parish and district still continues to be rated for its land, its houses, and its stock, according to the original assessment; and the almost universal prosperity of the country, which, in most places, has raised very much the value of all these, has rendered those inequalities of still less importance now. The rate, too, upon each district, continuing always the same, the uncertainty of this tax, so far as it might he assessed upon the stock of any individual, has been very much diminished, as well as rendered of much less consequence. If the greater part of the lands of England are not rated to the land tax at half their actual value, the greater part of the stock of England is, perhaps, scarce rated at the fiftieth part of its actual value. In some towns, the whole land tax is assessed upon houses; as in Westminster, where stock and trade are free. It is otherwise in London.
In all countries, a severe inquisition into the circumstances of private persons has been carefully avoided.
At Hamburg, {Memoires concernant les Droits, tom. i, p.74} every inhabitant is obliged to pay to the state one fourth per cent. of all that he possesses; and as the wealth of the people of Hamburg consists principally in stock, this tax maybe considered as a tax upon stock. Every man assesses himself, and, in the presence of the magistrate, puts annually into the public coffer a certain sum of money, which he declares upon oath, to be one fourth per cent. of all that he possesses, but without declaring what it amounts to, or being liable to any examination upon that subject. This tax is generally supposed to be paid with great fidelity. In a small republic, where the people have entire confidence in their magistrates, are convinced of the necessity of the tax for the support of the state, and believe that it will be faithfully applied to that purpose, such conscientious and voluntary payment may sometimes be expected. It is not peculiar to the people of Hamburg.
The canton of Underwald, in Switzerland, is frequently ravaged by storms and inundations, and it is thereby exposed to extraordinary expenses. Upon such occasions the people assemble, and every one is said to declare with the greatest frankness what he is worth, in order to be taxed accordingly. At Zurich, the law orders, that in cases of necessity, every one should be taxed in proportion to his revenue; the amount of which he is obliged to declare upon oath. They have no suspicion, it is said, that any of their fellow citizens will deceive them. At Basil, the principal revenue of the state arises from a small custom upon goods exported. All the citizens make oath, that they will pay every three months all the taxes imposed by law. All merchants, and even all inn-keepers, are trusted with keeping themselves the account of the goods which they sell, either within or without the territory. At the end of every three months, they send this account to the treasurer, with the amount of the tax computed at the bottom of it. It is not suspected that the revenue suffers by this confidence. {Memoires concernant les Droits, tom. i p. 163, 167,171.}
To oblige every citizen to declare publicly upon oath, the amount of his fortune, must not, it seems, in those Swiss cantons, be reckoned a hardship. At Hamburg it would be reckoned the greatest. Merchants engaged in the hazardous projects of trade, all tremble at the thoughts of being obliged, at all times, to expose the real state of their circumstances. The ruin of their credit, and the miscarriage of their projects, they foresee, would too often be the consequence. A sober and parsimonious people, who are strangers to all such projects, do not feel that they have occasion for any such concealment.
In Holland, soon after the exaltation of the late prince of Orange to the stadtholdership, a tax of two per cent. or the fiftieth penny, as it was called, was imposed upon the whole substance of every citizen. Every citizen assesed himself, and paid his tax, in the same manner as at Hamburg, and it was in general supposed to have been paid with great fidelity. The people had at that time the greatest affection for their new government, which they had just established by a general insurrection. The tax was to be paid but once, in order to relieve the state in a particular exigency. It was, indeed, too heavy to be permanent. In a country where the market rate of interest seldom exceeds three per cent., a tax of two per cent. amounts to thirteen shillings and four pence in the pound, upon the highest neat revenue which is commonly drawn from stock. It is a tax which very few people could pay, without encroaching more or less upon their capitals. In a particular exigency, the people may, from great public zeal, make a great effort, and give up even a part of their capital, in order to relieve the state. But it is impossible that they should continue to do so for any considerable time; and if they did, the tax would soon ruin them so completely, as to render them altogether incapable of supporting the state.
The tax upon stock, imposed by the land tax bill in England, though it is proportioned to the capital, is not intended to diminish or, take away any part of that capital. It is meant only to be a tax upon the interest of money, proportioned to that upon the rent of land; so that when the latter is at four shillings in the pound, the former may be at four shillings in the pound too. The tax at Hamburg, and the still more moderate taxes of Underwald and Zurich, are meant, in the same manner, to be taxes, not upon the capital, but upon the interest or neat revenue of stock. That of Holland was meant to be a tax upon the capital.
Taxes upon the Profit of particular Employments.
In some countries, extraordinary taxes are imposed upon the profits of stock; sometimes when employed in particular branches of trade, and sometimes when employed in agriculture.
Of the former kind, are in England, the tax upon hawkers and pedlars, that upon hackney-coaches and chairs, and that which the keepers of ale-houses pay for a licence to retail ale and spiritous liquors. During the late war, another tax of the same kind was proposed upon shops. The war having been undertaken, it was said, in defence of the trade of the country, the merchants, who were to profit by it, ought to contribute towards the support of it.
A tax, however, upon the profits of stock employed in any particular branch of trade, can never fall finally upon the dealers (who must in all ordinary cases have their reasonable profit, and, where the competition is free, can seldom have more than that profit), but always upon the consumers, who must be obliged to pay in the price of the goods the tax which the dealer advances; and generally with some overcharge.
English
The natural tendency of the window tax, and of all other taxes on houses, is to lower rents. Clearly, the more a person pays in tax, the less he can afford to pay in rent. Since the window tax was imposed, however, house rents have risen to some degree overall in almost every town and village of Great Britain with which I am familiar. The demand for houses has increased so greatly almost everywhere that it has raised rents by more than the window tax could lower them. This is one of many signs of the country’s great prosperity and its inhabitants’ rising revenue. Without the tax, rents would probably have risen still higher.
ARTICLE II.—Taxes on Profit, or on Revenue Arising from Stock.
Revenue or profit arising from stock naturally divides into two parts: the part that pays interest and belongs to the owner of the stock, and the surplus beyond what is required to pay interest.
This latter part of profit clearly cannot be taxed directly. It compensates the person employing the stock for the risk and trouble of doing so, and in most cases provides no more than a very moderate compensation. He must receive it, or he cannot continue to employ the stock consistently with his own interest. If taxed directly in proportion to his total profit, he would therefore have to raise his rate of profit or charge the tax against the interest on the money—that is, pay less interest. If he raised his rate of profit to match the tax, the entire tax, though initially advanced by him, would ultimately be paid by one of two different groups, depending on how he employed the stock under his management. If he employed it as farming stock to cultivate land, he could raise his rate of profit only by retaining a larger share of the land’s produce, or the price of a larger share. As this could be achieved only by reducing rent, the tax would ultimately fall on the landlord. If he employed it in trade or manufacturing, he could raise his rate of profit only by raising the price of his goods, and the entire final burden would fall on their consumers. If he did not raise his rate of profit, he would have to charge the entire tax against the part of that profit set aside to pay interest on money. He could afford to pay less interest on any stock he borrowed, and the entire burden of the tax would ultimately fall on interest. To the extent that he could not escape the tax in one way, he would have to escape it in the other.
At first sight, interest on money seems as suitable for direct taxation as land rent. Like land rent, it is a net produce left after fully compensating the risk and trouble of employing the stock. A tax on land rent cannot raise rents, because the net produce left after replacing the farmer’s stock and paying his reasonable profit cannot be greater after the tax than before. For the same reason, a tax on interest on money could not raise the interest rate, assuming the country’s quantity of stock or money, like its quantity of land, remained unchanged after the tax. As shown in the first book, the ordinary rate of profit is everywhere governed by the amount of stock available to be employed in relation to the amount of employment, or business, there is for it to perform. A tax on interest on money could neither increase nor decrease the amount of employment or business for stock. If it likewise neither increased nor decreased the amount of stock available, the ordinary rate of profit would necessarily stay the same. The portion of profit needed to compensate the employer’s risk and trouble would also remain the same, since that risk and trouble had not changed. The remainder—the portion belonging to the stock’s owner and paying interest on money—would necessarily stay the same too. At first sight, then, interest on money seems as fit for direct taxation as land rent.
There are, however, two circumstances that make interest on money much less suitable for direct taxation than land rent.
First, the amount and value of land someone owns can never be secret and can always be determined with great precision. But the total capital stock he owns is almost always secret and can scarcely ever be determined with reasonable accuracy. Moreover, it is subject to nearly constant change. Rarely a year passes, frequently not even a month, sometimes scarcely a single day, without its rising or falling to some degree. An investigation of everyone’s private affairs that monitored every fluctuation of fortune in order to adjust the tax accordingly would cause such constant and endless harassment that no one could endure it.
Second, land cannot be moved, while stock can readily be moved. The owner of land must belong to the particular country in which his estate lies. The owner of stock is more properly a citizen of the world and is not necessarily bound to any particular country. He would be inclined to leave a country where he was subjected to an intrusive investigation for the sake of a burdensome tax, and move his stock to another country where he could conduct his business or enjoy his fortune more comfortably. By taking his stock away, he would extinguish all the industry it had supported in the country he left. Stock cultivates land; stock employs labor. A tax that tended to drive stock out of a country would consequently tend to dry up every source of revenue for both the sovereign and society. Not only the profits of stock, but land rent and the wages of labor would necessarily fall to some degree when it departed.
Accordingly, nations that have attempted to tax revenue arising from stock have had to settle for a very rough and therefore more or less arbitrary estimate rather than conduct any such rigorous investigation. The extreme inequality and uncertainty of a tax assessed this way can be offset only by its extreme moderation. As a result, everyone finds himself assessed so far below his actual revenue that he is little troubled if his neighbor is assessed somewhat less.
What is called the land tax in England was meant to tax stock in the same proportion as land. When land was taxed at four shillings in the pound, or one-fifth of its estimated rent, stock was meant to be taxed at one-fifth of its estimated interest. When the present annual land tax was first introduced, the legal rate of interest was six per cent. Each hundred pounds of stock was therefore supposed to be taxed at twenty-four shillings, one-fifth of six pounds. Since the legal interest rate was reduced to five per cent., each hundred pounds of stock is supposed to be taxed at only twenty shillings. The sum raised by what is called the land tax was divided between the countryside and the principal towns. Most of it was imposed on the countryside; of the part imposed on the towns, most was assessed on houses. The remainder to be assessed on the stock or trade of the towns—for stock employed on the land was not meant to be taxed—was far below the actual value of that stock or trade. Whatever inequalities existed in the original assessment therefore caused little distress. Every parish and district continues to be assessed on its land, houses, and stock according to that original assessment. The country’s almost universal prosperity, which in most places has greatly increased the value of all three, has made those inequalities less important still. Since each district’s assessment also always remains the same, the uncertainty of the tax insofar as it might fall on an individual’s stock has been greatly reduced and made much less consequential. If most English land is not assessed for the land tax at even half its actual value, most English stock is perhaps assessed at scarcely a fiftieth of its actual value. In some towns the whole land tax is assessed on houses, as in Westminster, where stock and trade are exempt. London is different.
Every country has carefully avoided any rigorous investigation into private individuals’ affairs.
At Hamburg, [Memoires concernant les Droits, tom. i, p.74] each resident is required to pay the state one fourth per cent. of everything he owns. As the wealth of Hamburg’s people consists principally of stock, this may be considered a tax on stock. Each man assesses himself and annually places in the public treasury, in the magistrate’s presence, a sum of money that he swears is one fourth per cent. of everything he owns. He need not declare the value of his possessions or submit to any examination about it. The tax is generally believed to be paid with great honesty. In a small republic whose people have complete confidence in their magistrates, are convinced that the tax is needed to support the state, and believe it will faithfully be used for that purpose, such conscientious and voluntary payment may sometimes be expected. It is not unique to Hamburg’s people.
The canton of Underwald in Switzerland is often ravaged by storms and floods, leaving it with extraordinary expenses. On these occasions the people assemble, and each is said to declare his worth with the utmost candor so that he can be taxed accordingly. At Zurich, the law requires everyone, when necessary, to be taxed in proportion to his revenue, the amount of which he must declare under oath. It is said that they do not suspect any of their fellow citizens of deceiving them. At Basil, the state draws its principal revenue from a small customs duty on exported goods. All citizens swear to pay every three months all taxes imposed by law. Merchants, and even innkeepers, are trusted to keep their own accounts of goods they sell within or outside the territory. At the end of each three-month period they send the account to the treasurer, with the calculated amount of tax written at its foot. No one suspects that this trust causes the revenue to suffer. [Memoires concernant les Droits, tom. i p. 163, 167,171.]
It seems that in those Swiss cantons requiring each citizen to declare the amount of his fortune publicly under oath is not considered a hardship. At Hamburg it would be considered the greatest hardship. Merchants undertaking the hazardous ventures of trade all tremble at the thought of having to expose the true state of their affairs at all times. They foresee that their credit would be ruined and their ventures too often defeated. Sober, frugal people unfamiliar with such ventures have no need, in their view, for such concealment.
In Holland, soon after the elevation of the late prince of Orange to the stadtholdership, a tax of two per cent., called the fiftieth penny, was imposed on each citizen’s entire property. Each citizen assessed himself and paid as at Hamburg, and the tax was generally believed to have been paid with great honesty. At the time the people had the deepest affection for their new government, which they had just established by a general insurrection. The tax was to be paid only once, to help the state through a particular emergency. It was indeed too heavy to be permanent. In a country where the market interest rate seldom exceeds three per cent., a tax of two per cent. amounts to thirteen shillings and four pence in the pound on the highest net revenue ordinarily drawn from stock. Very few people could pay such a tax without drawing to some degree on their capital. In a particular emergency, public zeal may lead people to make a great effort, surrendering even part of their capital to help the state. But they cannot possibly continue doing so for any considerable time; if they did, the tax would soon ruin them so completely that they would be wholly unable to support the state.
Although the English land tax bill assesses its tax on stock in proportion to capital, the tax is not intended to reduce or take away any of that capital. It is intended only as a tax on interest on money, proportional to the tax on land rent, so that when the latter is four shillings in the pound, the former may also be four shillings in the pound. Likewise, the Hamburg tax, and the still more moderate taxes of Underwald and Zurich, are intended to tax not capital but interest or net revenue from stock. The Dutch tax was intended as a tax on capital.
Taxes on the Profit of Particular Employments.
Some countries impose extraordinary taxes on the profits of stock, sometimes when it is used in particular branches of trade and sometimes when it is used in agriculture.
Of the former kind in England are the tax on hawkers and peddlers, the tax on hackney coaches and chairs, and the tax alehouse keepers pay for a license to sell ale and spirituous liquors by retail. During the recent war, a further tax of the same kind was proposed on shops. As the war had been undertaken in defense of the country’s trade, it was said that the merchants who stood to profit from it ought to help pay for it.
A tax on the profits of stock employed in any particular branch of trade, however, can never ultimately fall on the dealers. In ordinary cases they must earn their reasonable profit, and where competition is free they can seldom earn more. Instead it always falls on consumers, who must pay in the goods’ price the tax advanced by the dealer, generally with some additional charge.
Book V, Chapter II, 7
18th-century English
A tax of this kind, when it is proportioned to the trade of the dealer, is finally paid by the consumer, and occasions no oppression to the dealer. When it is not so proportioned, but is the same upon all dealers, though in this case, too, it is finally paid by the consumer, yet it favours the great, and occasions some oppression to the small dealer. The tax of five shillings a-week upon every hackney coach, and that of ten shillings a-year upon every hackney chair, so far as it is advanced by the different keepers of such coaches and chairs, is exactly enough proportioned to the extent of their respective dealings. It neither favours the great, nor oppresses the smaller dealer. The tax of twenty shillings a-year for a licence to sell ale; of forty shillings for a licence to sell spiritous liquors; and of forty shillings more for a licence to sell wine, being the same upon all retailers, must necessarily give some advantage to the great, and occasion some oppression to the small dealers. The former must find it more easy to get back the tax in the price of their goods than the latter. The moderation of the tax, however, renders this inequality of less importance; and it may to many people appear not improper to give some discouragement to the multiplication of little ale-houses. The tax upon shops, it was intended, should be the same upon all shops. It could not well have been otherwise. It would have been impossible to proportion, with tolerable exactness, the tax upon a shop to the extent of the trade carried on in it, without such an inquisition as would have been altogether insupportable in a free country. If the tax had been considerable, it would have oppressed the small, and forced almost the whole retail trade into the hands of the great dealers. The competition of the former being taken away, the latter would have enjoyed a monopoly of the trade; and, like all other monopolists, would soon have combined to raise their profits much beyond what was necessary for the payment of the tax. The final payment, instead of falling upon the shop-keeper, would have fallen upon the consumer, with a considerable overcharge to the profit of the shop-keeper. For these reasons, the project of a tax upon shops was laid aside, and in the room of it was substituted the subsidy, 1759.
What in France is called the personal taille, is perhaps, the most important tax upon the profits of stock employed in agriculture, that is levied in any part of Europe.
In the disorderly state of Europe, during the prevalence of the feudal government, the sovereign was obliged to content himself with taxing those who were too weak to refuse to pay taxes. The great lords, though willing to assist him upon particular emergencies, refused to subject themselves to any constant tax, and he was not strong enough to force them. The occupiers of land all over Europe were, the greater part of them, originally bond-men. Through the greater part of Europe, they were gradually emancipated. Some of them acquired the property of landed estates, which they held by some base or ignoble tenure, sometimes under the king, and sometimes under some other great lord, like the ancient copy-holders of England. Others, without acquiring the property, obtained leases for terms of years, of the lands which they occupied under their lord, and thus became less dependent upon him. The great lords seem to have beheld the degree of prosperity and independency, which this inferior order of men had thus come to enjoy, with a malignant and contemptuous indignation, and willingly consented that the sovereign should tax them. In some countries, this tax was confined to the lands which were held in property by an ignoble tenure; and, in this case, the taille was said to be real. The land tax established by the late king of Sardinia, and the taille in the provinces of Languedoc, Provence, Dauphine, and Britanny; in the generality of Montauban, and in the elections of Agen and Condom, as well as in some other districts of France; are taxes upon lands held in property by an ignoble tenure. In other countries, the tax was laid upon the supposed profits of all those who held, in farm or lease, lands belonging to other people, whatever might be the tenure by which the proprietor held them; and in this case, the taille was said to be personal. In the greater part of those provinces of France, which are called the countries of elections, the taille is of this kind. The real taille, as it is imposed only upon a part of the lands of the country, is necessarily an unequal, but it is not always an arbitrary tax, though it is so upon some occasions. The personal taille, as it is intended to be proportioned to the profits of a certain class of people, which can only be guessed at, is necessarily both arbitrary and unequal.
In France, the personal taille at present (1775) annually imposed upon the twenty generalities, called the countries of elections, amounts to 40,107,239 livres, 16 sous. {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc tom. ii, p.17.} the proportion in which this sum is assessed upon those different provinces, varies from year to year, according to the reports which are made to the king’s council concerning the goodness or badness of the crops, as well as other circumstances, which may either increase or diminish their respective abilities to pay. Each generality is divided into a certain number of elections; and the proportion in which the sum imposed upon the whole generality is divided among those different elections, varies likewise from year to year, according to the reports made to the council concerning their respective abilities. It seems impossible, that the council, with the best intentions, can ever proportion, with tolerable exactness, either of these two assessments to the real abilities of the province or district upon which they are respectively laid. Ignorance and misinformation must always, more or less, mislead the most upright council. The proportion which each parish ought to support of what is assessed upon the whole election, and that which each individual ought to support of what is assessed upon his particular parish, are both in the same manner varied from year to year, according as circumstances are supposed to require. These circumstances are judged of, in the one case, by the officers of the election, in the other, by those of the parish; and both the one and the other are, more or less, under the direction and influence of the intendant. Not only ignorance and misinformation, but friendship, party animosity, and private resentment, are said frequently to mislead such assessors. No man subject to such a tax, it is evident, can ever be certain, before he is assessed, of what he is to pay. He cannot even be certain after he is assessed. If any person has been taxed who ought to have been exempted, or if any person has been taxed beyond his proportion, though both must pay in the mean time, yet if they complain, and make good their complaints, the whole parish is reimposed next year, in order to reimburse them. If any of the contributors become bankrupt or insolvent, the collector is obliged to advance his tax; and the whole parish is reimposed next year, in order to reimburse the collector. If the collector himself should become bankrupt, the parish which elects him must answer for his conduct to the receiver-general of the election. But, as it might be troublesome for the receiver to prosecute the whole parish, he takes at his choice five or six of the richest contributors, and obliges them to make good what had been lost by the insolvency of the collector. The parish is afterwards reimposed, in order to reimburse those five or six. Such reimpositions are always over and above the taille of the particular year in which they are laid on.
When a tax is imposed upon the profits of stock in a particular branch of trade, the traders are all careful to bring no more goods to market than what they can sell at a price sufficient to reimburse them from advancing the tax. Some of them withdraw a part of their stocks from the trade, and the market is more sparingly supplied than before. The price of the goods rises, and the final payment of the tax falls upon the consumer. But when a tax is imposed upon the profits of stock employed in agriculture, it is not the interest of the farmers to withdraw any part of their stock from that employment. Each farmer occupies a certain quantity of land, for which he pays rent. For the proper cultivation of this land, a certain quantity of stock is necessary; and by withdrawing any part of this necessary quantity, the farmer is not likely to be more able to pay either the rent or the tax. In order to pay the tax, it can never be his interest to diminish the quantity of his produce, nor consequently to supply the market more sparingly than before. The tax, therefore, will never enable him to raise the price of his produce, so as to reimburse himself, by throwing the final payment upon the consumer. The farmer, however, must have his reasonable profit as well as every other dealer, otherwise he must give up the trade. After the imposition of a tax of this kind, he can get this reasonable profit only by paying less rent to the landlord. The more he is obliged to pay in the way of tax, the less he can afford to pay in the way of rent. A tax of this kind, imposed during the currency of a lease, may, no doubt, distress or ruin the farmer. Upon the renewal of the lease, it must always fall upon the landlord.
In the countries where the personal taille takes place, the farmer is commonly assessed in proportion to the stock which he appears to employ in cultivation. He is, upon this account, frequently afraid to have a good team of horses or oxen, but endeavours to cultivate with the meanest and most wretched instruments of husbandry that he can. Such is his distrust in the justice of his assessors, that he counterfeits poverty, and wishes to appear scarce able to pay anything, for fear of being obliged to pay too much. By this miserable policy, he does not, perhaps, always consult his own interest in the most effectual manner; and he probably loses more by the diminution of his produce, than he saves by that of his tax. Though, in consequence of this wretched cultivation, the market is, no doubt, somewhat worse supplied; yet the small rise of price which this may occasion, as it is not likely even to indemnify the farmer for the diminution of his produce, it is still less likely to enable him to pay more rent to the landlord. The public, the farmer, the landlord, all suffer more or less by this degraded cultivation. That the personal taille tends, in many different ways, to discourage cultivation, and consequently to dry up the principal source of the wealth of every great country, I have already had occasion to observe in the third book of this Inquiry.
What are called poll-taxes in the southern provinces of North America, and the West India islands, annual taxes of so much a-head upon every negro, are properly taxes upon the profits of a certain species of stock employed in agriculture. As the planters, are the greater part of them, both farmers and landlords, the final payment of the tax falls upon them in their quality of landlords, without any retribution.
Taxes of so much a head upon the bondmen employed in cultivation, seem anciently to have been common all over Europe. There subsists at present a tax of this kind in the empire of Russia. It is probably upon this account that poll-taxes of all kinds have often been represented as badges of slavery. Every tax, however, is, to the person who pays it, a badge, not of slavery, but of liberty. It denotes that he is subject to government, indeed; but that, as he has some property, he cannot himself be the property of a master. A poll tax upon slaves is altogether different from a poll-tax upon freemen. The latter is paid by the persons upon whom it is imposed; the former, by a different set of persons. The latter is either altogether arbitrary, or altogether unequal, and, in most cases, is both the one and the other; the former, though in some respects unequal, different slaves being of different values, is in no respect arbitrary. Every master, who knows the number of his own slaves, knows exactly what he has to pay. Those different taxes, however, being called by the same name, have been considered as of the same nature.
The taxes which in Holland are imposed upon men and maid servants, are taxes, not upon stock, but upon expense; and so far resemble the taxes upon consumable commodities. The tax of a guinea a-head for every man-servant, which has lately been imposed in Great Britain, is of the same kind. It falls heaviest upon the middling rank. A man of two hundred a-year may keep a single man-servant. A man of ten thousand a-year will not keep fifty. It does not affect the poor.
Taxes upon the profits of stock, in particular employments, can never affect the interest of money. Nobody will lend his money for less interest to those who exercise the taxed, than to those who exercise the untaxed employments. Taxes upon the revenue arising from stock in all employments, where the government attempts to levy them with any degree of exactness, will, in many cases, fall upon the interest of money. The vingtieme, or twentieth penny, in France, is a tax of the same kind with what is called the land tax in England, and is assessed, in the same manner, upon the revenue arising upon land, houses, and stock. So far as it affects stock, it is assessed, though not with great rigour, yet with much more exactness than that part of the land tax in England which is imposed upon the same fund. It, in many cases, falls altogether upon the interest of money. Money is frequently sunk in France, upon what are called contracts for the constitution of a rent; that is, perpetual annuities, redeemable at any time by the debtor, upon payment of the sum originally advanced, but of which this redemption is not exigible by the creditor except in particular cases. The vingtieme seems not to have raised the rate of those annuities, though it is exactly levied upon them all.
APPENDIX TO ARTICLES I. AND II.—Taxes upon the Capital Value of Lands, Houses, and Stock.
While property remains in the possession of the same person, whatever permanent taxes may have been imposed upon it, they have never been intended to diminish or take away any part of its capital value, but only some part of the revenue arising from it. But when property changes hands, when it is transmitted either from the dead to the living, or from the living to the living, such taxes have frequently been imposed upon it as necessarily take away some part of its capital value.
English
A tax of this kind, when proportioned to the dealer’s trade, is ultimately paid by the consumer and does not oppress the dealer. When it is not so proportioned, but is the same for every dealer, it is still ultimately paid by the consumer; yet it favors the large dealer and somewhat oppresses the small one. The tax of five shillings a week on every hackney coach, and that of ten shillings a year on every hackney chair, are proportioned closely enough to the scale of their keepers’ respective businesses, insofar as those keepers advance the tax. Neither favors the large dealer nor oppresses the smaller one. The tax of twenty shillings a year for a license to sell ale, forty shillings for a license to sell spirituous liquors, and forty shillings more for a license to sell wine, being the same for all retailers, must necessarily give some advantage to the large dealers and impose some hardship on the small ones. The former must find it easier than the latter to recover the tax in the price of their goods. The modest size of the tax, however, makes this inequality less important; and many people may consider it reasonable to discourage, to some extent, the multiplication of small alehouses. The proposed tax on shops was to be the same for every shop. It could hardly have been otherwise. To proportion a shop’s tax with any reasonable accuracy to the scale of its trade would have required an inquiry wholly intolerable in a free country. Had the tax been substantial, it would have oppressed small dealers and forced almost all retail trade into the hands of large ones. With the competition of the former removed, the latter would have held a monopoly of the trade; and, like all other monopolists, would soon have combined to raise their profits far beyond what was needed to pay the tax. The ultimate burden, instead of falling on the shopkeeper, would have fallen on the consumer, together with a considerable surcharge for the shopkeeper’s profit. For these reasons the proposal for a tax on shops was abandoned and replaced by the subsidy of 1759.
What is called the personal taille in France is perhaps the most important tax on the profits of stock employed in agriculture levied anywhere in Europe.
In Europe’s disorderly condition under feudal government, the sovereign had to content himself with taxing those too weak to refuse payment. The great lords, though willing to assist him in particular emergencies, refused to submit to any permanent tax, and he was not strong enough to compel them. The occupiers of land throughout Europe had originally been, for the most part, bondmen. Over much of Europe they were gradually emancipated. Some acquired landed property held by some base or ignoble tenure, sometimes under the king and sometimes under another great lord, like England’s old copyholders. Others, without acquiring ownership, obtained leases for terms of years on the lands they occupied under their lord, and so became less dependent on him. The great lords seem to have looked upon the prosperity and independence attained by this lower order of men with malicious and contemptuous indignation, and readily agreed to let the sovereign tax them. In some countries the tax was confined to lands held as property under an ignoble tenure; in this case the taille was called real. The land tax established by the late king of Sardinia, and the taille in Languedoc, Provence, Dauphine, and Britanny; in the generality of Montauban and the elections of Agen and Condom, as well as in some other French districts, are taxes on lands held as property under an ignoble tenure. In other countries the tax fell on the supposed profits of everyone farming or leasing someone else’s land, whatever the tenure by which its owner held it; in this case the taille was called personal. In most of the French provinces known as the countries of elections, the taille is of this kind. The real taille, because it falls on only part of a country’s land, is necessarily unequal, but is not always arbitrary, though on some occasions it is. The personal taille, because it is intended to be proportioned to the profits of a particular class of people whose profits can only be guessed at, is necessarily both arbitrary and unequal.
In France, the personal taille currently (1775) imposed each year on the twenty generalities known as the countries of elections amounts to 40,107,239 livres, 16 sous. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc tom. ii, p.17.] The proportion of this sum assessed on the different provinces changes from year to year according to reports to the king’s council on whether the crops have been good or bad, as well as on other circumstances that may increase or diminish their respective ability to pay. Each generality is divided into a number of elections; the proportion of the sum assessed on the whole generality allocated to the different elections likewise changes each year according to reports to the council about their respective ability to pay. It seems impossible for the council, however well intentioned, to proportion either of these assessments with reasonable accuracy to the actual ability of the province or district on which it is laid. Ignorance and misinformation must always mislead even the most upright council to some degree. The share of the assessment on the whole election that each parish must bear, and the share of the assessment on his particular parish that each person must bear, likewise change from year to year as circumstances are thought to require. Those circumstances are judged in the first instance by officers of the election and in the second by officers of the parish; both are to some extent under the direction and influence of the intendant. Not only ignorance and misinformation but friendship, partisan hostility, and private resentment are said often to lead these assessors astray. Clearly, no one subject to such a tax can ever know before his assessment what he will have to pay. He cannot even know after being assessed. If someone who should have been exempt has been taxed, or someone has been taxed beyond his proper share, both must pay for the time being; but if they complain and establish their claims, the whole parish is assessed again the following year to reimburse them. If a contributor goes bankrupt or becomes insolvent, the collector must advance that person’s tax, and the whole parish is assessed again the following year to reimburse the collector. If the collector himself goes bankrupt, the parish that elected him must answer for his conduct to the receiver-general of the election. But since it might be troublesome for the receiver to pursue the entire parish, he selects five or six of its wealthiest contributors and compels them to make good the loss caused by the collector’s insolvency. The parish is then assessed again to reimburse those five or six. Such reassessments always come on top of the taille for the particular year in which they are imposed.
When a tax is imposed on the profits of stock in a particular branch of trade, all the traders take care not to bring more goods to market than they can sell at a price sufficient to repay what they advanced in tax. Some withdraw part of their stocks from that trade, leaving the market less amply supplied than before. The price of the goods rises, and the ultimate burden of the tax falls on the consumer. But when a tax is imposed on the profits of stock employed in agriculture, farmers have no interest in withdrawing any of their stock from that employment. Each farmer occupies a certain amount of land for which he pays rent. A certain quantity of stock is needed to cultivate that land properly; by withdrawing any part of this necessary quantity, the farmer is unlikely to improve his ability to pay either rent or tax. To pay the tax, it can never be in his interest to reduce his output and thereby supply the market less amply than before. The tax will therefore never enable him to raise the price of his produce enough to recover his payment by shifting the ultimate burden to the consumer. Yet the farmer, like every other dealer, must make a reasonable profit, or he must abandon the business. After a tax of this kind is imposed, he can obtain this reasonable profit only by paying the landlord less rent. The more he is obliged to pay in tax, the less he can afford in rent. A tax of this kind imposed during a lease may undoubtedly distress or ruin the farmer. When the lease is renewed, the burden must always fall on the landlord.
In countries subject to the personal taille, the farmer is commonly assessed in proportion to the stock he appears to employ in cultivation. He is therefore often afraid to keep a good team of horses or oxen, and tries to cultivate with the poorest and most wretched farming implements he can find. So little does he trust the fairness of his assessors that he feigns poverty and wishes to appear barely able to pay anything, for fear of being forced to pay too much. By this miserable policy he does not perhaps always pursue his own interest in the most effective way: he probably loses more through reduced output than he saves in tax. Though this wretched cultivation undoubtedly leaves the market somewhat less well supplied, the small rise in price it may bring is unlikely even to compensate the farmer for his reduced output, much less enable him to pay more rent to the landlord. The public, the farmer, and the landlord all suffer to some degree from this degraded cultivation. As I have already had occasion to observe in the third book of this Inquiry, the personal taille tends in many ways to discourage cultivation and thus to dry up the chief source of every great country’s wealth.
What are called poll taxes in the southern provinces of North America and the West India islands—annual taxes of a fixed amount per enslaved person—are properly taxes on the profits of a particular kind of stock employed in agriculture. Since most planters are both farmers and landlords, the ultimate burden falls on them in their capacity as landlords, without any reimbursement.
Taxes of a fixed amount per bondman employed in cultivation seem to have been common throughout Europe in ancient times. A tax of this kind still exists in the empire of Russia. It is probably for this reason that poll taxes of every kind have often been described as badges of slavery. To the person who pays it, however, every tax is a badge not of slavery but of liberty. It shows that he is subject to government, certainly, but also that, since he has some property, he cannot himself be someone’s property. A poll tax on slaves is entirely different from a poll tax on free people. The latter is paid by the people on whom it is imposed; the former by a different group of people. The latter is either wholly arbitrary or wholly unequal, and in most cases both; the former, though unequal in some respects because different slaves have different values, is in no respect arbitrary. Every master who knows how many slaves he owns knows precisely what he must pay. Nevertheless, because these different taxes have the same name, they have been regarded as having the same nature.
The Dutch taxes on male and female servants are taxes not on stock but on expense, and in that respect resemble taxes on consumable commodities. The tax of a guinea per male servant recently imposed in Great Britain is of the same kind. It falls most heavily on the middle ranks. A man with two hundred a year may keep one male servant. A man with ten thousand a year will not keep fifty. It does not affect the poor.
Taxes on the profits of stock in particular employments can never affect the interest on money. Nobody will lend money at a lower rate to those engaged in taxed employments than to those engaged in untaxed ones. Taxes on the revenue arising from stock in all employments will, in many cases, fall on the interest on money if the government tries to levy them with any degree of accuracy. The vingtieme, or twentieth penny, in France is a tax of the same kind as what is called the land tax in England; in the same manner, it is assessed on revenue from land, houses, and stock. Insofar as it affects stock, its assessment, though not especially rigorous, is far more exact than that of the portion of the English land tax imposed on the same fund. In many cases it falls entirely on the interest on money. In France money is frequently invested in what are called contracts for the constitution of a rent: perpetual annuities redeemable at any time by the debtor upon repayment of the sum originally advanced, though the creditor cannot demand redemption except in particular cases. The vingtieme does not seem to have raised the rate of these annuities, though it is levied on all of them with precision.
APPENDIX TO ARTICLES I. AND II.—Taxes on the Capital Value of Lands, Houses, and Stock.
While property remains in the same person’s possession, whatever permanent taxes may have been imposed on it have never been intended to diminish or take away any part of its capital value, but only part of the revenue it yields. When property changes hands, however—whether it passes from the dead to the living or from one living person to another—taxes have often been imposed on it that necessarily take away part of its capital value.
Book V, Chapter II, 8
18th-century English
The transference of all sorts of property from the dead to the living, and that of immoveable property of land and houses from the living to the living, are transactions which are in their nature either public and notorious, or such as cannot be long concealed. Such transactions, therefore, may be taxed directly. The transference of stock or moveable property, from the living to the living, by the lending of money, is frequently a secret transaction, and may always be made so. It cannot easily, therefore, be taxed directly. It has been taxed indirectly in two different ways; first, by requiring that the deed, containing the obligation to repay, should be written upon paper or parchment which had paid a certain stamp duty, otherwise not to be valid; secondly, by requiring, under the like penalty of invalidity, that it should be recorded either in a public or secret register, and by imposing certain duties upon such registration. Stamp duties, and duties of registration, have frequently been imposed likewise upon the deeds transferring property of all kinds from the dead to the living, and upon those transferring immoveable property from the living to the living; transactions which might easily have been taxed directly.
The vicesima hereditatum, or the twentieth penny of inheritances, imposed by Augustus upon the ancient Romans, was a tax upon the transference of property from the dead to the living. Dion Cassius, { Lib. 55. See also Burman. de Vectigalibus Pop. Rom. cap. xi. and Bouchaud de l’impot du vingtieme sur les successions.} the author who writes concerning it the least indistinctly, says, that it was imposed upon all successions, legacies and donations, in case of death, except upon those to the nearest relations, and to the poor.
Of the same kind is the Dutch tax upon successions. {See Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom i, p. 225.} Collateral successions are taxed according to the degree of relation, from five to thirty per cent. upon the whole value of the succession. Testamentary donations, or legacies to collaterals, are subject to the like duties. Those from husband to wife, or from wife to husband, to the fiftieth penny. The luctuosa hereditas, the mournful succession of ascendants to descendants, to the twentieth penny only. Direct successions, or those of descendants to ascendants, pay no tax. The death of a father, to such of his children as live in the same house with him, is seldom attended with any increase, and frequently with a considerable diminution of revenue; by the loss of his industry, of his office, or of some life-rent estate, of which he may have been in possession. That tax would be cruel and oppressive, which aggravated their loss, by taking from them any part of his succession. It may, however, sometimes be otherwise with those children, who, in the language of the Roman law, are said to be emancipated; in that of the Scotch law, to be foris-familiated; that is, who have received their portion, have got families of their own, and are supported by funds separate and independent of those of their father. Whatever part of his succession might come to such children, would be a real addition to their fortune, and might, therefore, perhaps, without more inconveniency than what attends all duties of this kind, be liable to some tax. The casualties of the feudal law were taxes upon the transference of land, both from the dead to the living, and from the living to the living. In ancient times, they constituted, in every part of Europe, one of the principal branches of the revenue of the crown.
The heir of every immediate vassal of the crown paid a certain duty, generally a year’s rent, upon receiving the investiture of the estate. If the heir was a minor, the whole rents of the estate, during the continuance of the minority, devolved to the superior, without any other charge besides the maintenance of the minor, and the payment of the widow’s dower, when there happened to be a dowager upon the land. When the minor came to be of age, another tax, called relief, was still due to the superior, which generally amounted likewise to a year’s rent. A long minority, which, in the present times, so frequently disburdens a great estate of all its incumbrances, and restores the family to their ancient splendour, could in those times have no such effect. The waste, and not the disincumbrance of the estate, was the common effect of a long minority.
By a feudal law, the vassal could not alienate without the consent of his superior, who generally extorted a fine or composition on granting it. This fine, which was at first arbitrary, came, in many countries, to be regulated at a certain portion of the price of the land. In some countries, where the greater part of the other feudal customs have gone into disuse, this tax upon the alienation of land still continues to make a very considerable branch of the revenue of the sovereign. In the canton of Berne it is so high as a sixth part of the price of all noble fiefs, and a tenth part of that of all ignoble ones. {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc, tom.i p.154} In the canton of Lucern, the tax upon the sale of land is not universal, and takes place only in certain districts. But if any person sells his land in order to remove out of the territory, he pays ten per cent. upon the whole price of the sale. {id. p.157.} Taxes of the same kind, upon the sale either of all lands, or of lands held by certain tenures, take place in many other countries, and make a more or less considerable branch of the revenue of the sovereign.
Such transactions may be taxed indirectly, by means either of stamp duties, or of duties upon registration; and those duties either may, or may not, be proportioned to the value of the subject which is transferred.
In Great Britain, the stamp duties are higher or lower, not so much according to the value of the property transferred (an eighteen-penny or half-crown stamp being sufficient upon a bond for the largest sum of money), as according to the nature of the deed. The highest do not exceed six pounds upon every sheet of paper, or skin of parchment; and these high duties fall chiefly upon grants from the crown, and upon certain law proceedings, without any regard to the value of the subject. There are, in Great Britain, no duties on the registration of deeds or writings, except the fees of the officers who keep the register; and these are seldom more than a reasonable recompence for their labour. The crown derives no revenue from them.
In Holland {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. i. p 223, 224, 225.} there are both stamp duties and duties upon registration; which in some cases are, and in some are not, proportioned to the value of the property transferred. All testaments must be written upon stamped paper, of which the price is proportioned to the property disposed of; so that there are stamps which cost from three pence or three stivers a-sheet, to three hundred florins, equal to about twenty-seven pounds ten shillings of our money. If the stamp is of an inferior price to what the testator ought to have made use of, his succession is confiscated. This is over and above all their other taxes on succession. Except bills of exchange, and some other mercantile bills, all other deeds, bonds, and contracts, are subject to a stamp duty. This duty, however, does not rise in proportion to the value of the subject. All sales of land and of houses, and all mortgages upon either, must be registered, and, upon registration, pay a duty to the state of two and a-half per cent. upon the amount of the price or of the mortgage. This duty is extended to the sale of all ships and vessels of more than two tons burden, whether decked or undecked. These, it seems, are considered as a sort of houses upon the water. The sale of moveables, when it is ordered by a court of justice, is subject to the like duty of two and a-half per cent.
In France, there are both stamp duties and duties upon registration. The former are considered as a branch of the aids of excise, and, in the provinces where those duties take place, are levied by the excise officers. The latter are considered as a branch of the domain of the crown and are levied by a different set of officers.
Those modes of taxation by stamp duties and by duties upon registration, are of very modern invention. In the course of little more than a century, however, stamp duties have, in Europe, become almost universal, and duties upon registration extremely common. There is no art which one government sooner learns of another, than that of draining money from the pockets of the people.
Taxes upon the transference of property from the dead to the living, fall finally, as well as immediately, upon the persons to whom the property is transferred. Taxes upon the sale of land fall altogether upon the seller. The seller is almost always under the necessity of selling, and must, therefore, take such a price as he can get. The buyer is scarce ever under the necessity of buying, and will, therefore, only give such a price as he likes. He considers what the land will cost him, in tax and price together. The more he is obliged to pay in the way of tax, the less he will be disposed to give in the way of price. Such taxes, therefore, fall almost always upon a necessitous person, and must, therefore, be frequently very cruel and oppressive. Taxes upon the sale of new-built houses, where the building is sold without the ground, fall generally upon the buyer, because the builder must generally have his profit; otherwise he must give up the trade. If he advances the tax, therefore, the buyer must generally repay it to him. Taxes upon the sale of old houses, for the same reason as those upon the sale of land, fall generally upon the seller; whom, in most cases, either conveniency or necessity obliges to sell. The number of new-built houses that are annually brought to market, is more or less regulated by the demand. Unless the demand is such as to afford the builder his profit, after paying all expenses, he will build no more houses. The number of old houses which happen at any time to come to market, is regulated by accidents, of which the greater part have no relation to the demand. Two or three great bankruptcies in a mercantile town, will bring many houses to sale, which must be sold for what can be got for them. Taxes upon the sale of ground-rents fall altogether upon the seller, for the same reason as those upon the sale of lands. Stamp duties, and duties upon the registration of bonds and contracts for borrowed money, fall altogether upon the borrower, and, in fact, are always paid by him. Duties of the same kind upon law proceedings fall upon the suitors. They reduce to both the capital value of the subject in dispute. The more it costs to acquire any property, the less must be the neat value of it when acquired.
All taxes upon the transference of property of every kind, so far as they diminish the capital value of that property, tend to diminish the funds destined for the maintenance of productive labour. They are all more or less unthrifty taxes that increase the revenue of the sovereign, which seldom maintains any but unproductive labourers, at the expense of the capital of the people, which maintains none but productive.
Such taxes, even when they are proportioned to the value of the property transferred, are still unequal; the frequency of transference not being always equal in property of equal value. When they are not proportioned to this value, which is the case with the greater part of the stamp duties and duties of registration, they are still more so. They are in no respect arbitrary, but are, or may be, in all cases, perfectly clear and certain. Though they sometimes fall upon the person who is not very able to pay, the time of payment is, in most cases, sufficiently convenient for him. When the payment becomes due, he must, in most cases, have the more to pay. They are levied at very little expense, and in general subject the contributors to no other inconveniency, besides always the unavoidable one of paying the tax. In France, the stamp duties are not much complained of. Those of registration, which they call the Controle, are. They give occasion, it is pretended, to much extortion in the officers of the farmers-general who collect the tax, which is in a great measure arbitrary and uncertain. In the greater part of the libels which have been written against the present system of finances in France, the abuses of the controle make a principal article. Uncertainty, however, does not seem to be necessarily inherent in the nature of such taxes. If the popular complaints are well founded, the abuse must arise, not so much from the nature of the tax as from the want of precision and distinctness in the words of the edicts or laws which impose it.
The registration of mortgages, and in general of all rights upon immoveable property, as it gives great security both to creditors and purchasers, is extremely advantageous to the public. That of the greater part of deeds of other kinds, is frequently inconvenient and even dangerous to individuals, without any advantage to the public. All registers which, it is acknowledged, ought to be kept secret, ought certainly never to exist. The credit of individuals ought certainly never to depend upon so very slender a security, as the probity and religion of the inferior officers of revenue. But where the fees of registration have been made a source of revenue to the sovereign, register-offices have commonly been multiplied without end, both for the deeds which ought to be registered, and for those which ought not. In France there are several different sorts of secret registers. This abuse, though not perhaps a necessary, it must be acknowledged, is a very natural effect of such taxes.
Such stamp duties as those in England upon cards and dice, upon newspapers and periodical pamphlets, etc. are properly taxes upon consumption; the final payment falls upon the persons who use or consume such commodities. Such stamp duties as those upon licences to retail ale, wine, and spiritous liquors, though intended, perhaps, to fall upon the profits of the retailers, are likewise finally paid by the consumers of those liquors. Such taxes, though called by the same name, and levied by the same officers, and in the same manner with the stamp duties above mentioned upon the transference of property, are, however, of a quite different nature, and fall upon quite different funds.
ARTICLE III.—Taxes upon the Wages of Labour.
English
Transfers of every kind of property from the dead to the living, and transfers of immovable property—land and houses—from one living person to another, are transactions that by their nature are either public and widely known or cannot remain hidden for long. Such transactions may therefore be taxed directly. The transfer of stock or movable property between living people through a loan of money is often a secret transaction and can always be made one. It cannot easily be taxed directly. It has been taxed indirectly in two ways: first, by requiring the deed containing the obligation to repay to be written on paper or parchment on which a specified stamp duty has been paid, failing which it is invalid; second, by requiring, under the same penalty of invalidity, that it be entered in a public or secret register, with duties imposed on the registration. Stamp duties and registration duties have also often been imposed on deeds transferring every kind of property from the dead to the living, and on those transferring immovable property between living people—transactions that could easily have been taxed directly.
The vicesima hereditatum, or twentieth penny on inheritances, imposed by Augustus on the ancient Romans, was a tax on transfers of property from the dead to the living. Dion Cassius, [ Lib. 55. See also Burman. de Vectigalibus Pop. Rom. cap. xi. and Bouchaud de l’impot du vingtieme sur les successions.] the author whose account of it is least obscure, says it was imposed on all inheritances, legacies, and gifts made in expectation of death, except those going to the nearest relations and to the poor.
The Dutch tax on inheritances is of the same kind. [See Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom i, p. 225.] Inheritances passing to collateral relatives are taxed, according to degree of kinship, at rates from five to thirty per cent. of the whole value inherited. Testamentary gifts, or legacies, to collateral relatives are subject to the same duties. Those passing from husband to wife, or wife to husband, are subject to the fiftieth penny. The luctuosa hereditas, the mournful inheritance passing from descendants to ascendants, is subject only to the twentieth penny. Direct inheritances, or those passing from ascendants to descendants, pay no tax. For children living in the same house as their father, his death seldom brings any increase in revenue and often brings a substantial decrease, through the loss of his labor, his office, or some life-rent estate he may have held. A tax that compounded their loss by taking any part of their inheritance would be cruel and oppressive. It may, however, sometimes be otherwise for children who are said, in Roman law, to be emancipated and, in Scots law, to be foris-familiated: that is, children who have received their portion, established families of their own, and live on funds separate from and independent of their father’s. Whatever they received from his estate would truly add to their fortune and could perhaps be subject to a tax, without more inconvenience than accompanies all duties of this kind. The feudal law’s incidental dues were taxes on transfers of land both from the dead to the living and between living people. In ancient times they formed one of the chief branches of crown revenue throughout Europe.
The heir of every direct vassal of the crown paid a duty, generally a year’s rent, on receiving investiture of the estate. If the heir was a minor, all the estate’s rents during the minority went to the superior, with no obligations beyond maintaining the minor and paying the widow’s dower if there was a dowager on the land. When the minor came of age, another tax called relief was still due to the superior, generally amounting to a year’s rent as well. A long minority, which nowadays so often frees a great estate from all its debts and restores a family to its former splendor, could then have no such effect. The usual effect of a long minority was waste of the estate, not relief from its debts.
Under feudal law a vassal could not alienate his land without his superior’s consent, and the superior generally extracted a fine or payment in return. This fine, arbitrary at first, came in many countries to be fixed at a certain fraction of the land’s price. In some countries where most other feudal customs have fallen into disuse, this tax on the transfer of land still makes up a very substantial part of the sovereign’s revenue. In the canton of Berne it amounts to as much as a sixth of the price of every noble fief, and a tenth of every ignoble one. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc, tom.i p.154] In the canton of Lucern the tax on land sales is not universal, but applies only in certain districts. Yet anyone who sells land in order to leave the territory pays ten per cent. of the whole sale price. [id. p.157.] Taxes of the same kind on the sale of either all lands or lands held under particular tenures exist in many other countries and make up a greater or smaller part of the sovereign’s revenue.
Such transactions can be taxed indirectly through either stamp duties or registration duties; those duties may or may not be proportioned to the value of the property transferred.
In Great Britain stamp duties vary less according to the value of the property transferred (an eighteen-penny or half-crown stamp suffices for a bond for the largest sum of money) than according to the nature of the deed. The highest do not exceed six pounds per sheet of paper or skin of parchment; these high duties fall chiefly on grants from the crown and certain legal proceedings, regardless of the value involved. In Great Britain there are no duties on registering deeds or writings apart from the fees of the officers who maintain the register, and these seldom exceed reasonable payment for their labor. The crown receives no revenue from them.
In Holland [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. i. p 223, 224, 225.] there are both stamp duties and registration duties, which in some cases are proportioned to the value of the property transferred and in others are not. Every will must be written on stamped paper whose price is proportioned to the property disposed of; thus stamps range from three pence or three stivers a sheet to three hundred florins, equal to about twenty-seven pounds ten shillings in our money. If the stamp costs less than the testator ought to have used, his estate is confiscated. This is in addition to all their other inheritance taxes. Apart from bills of exchange and certain other commercial bills, all other deeds, bonds, and contracts are subject to a stamp duty. This duty, however, does not rise in proportion to the value at stake. Every sale of land or houses, and every mortgage on either, must be registered and, on registration, pay the state a duty of two and a-half per cent. of the sale price or the mortgage amount. This duty extends to the sale of all ships and vessels of more than two tons burden, whether decked or undecked. These, it seems, are regarded as a kind of house on the water. The sale of movable goods, when ordered by a court of justice, is subject to the same duty of two and a-half per cent.
In France there are both stamp duties and registration duties. The former are regarded as part of the excise duties and, in provinces where they apply, are collected by excise officers. The latter are regarded as part of the crown domain and are collected by another group of officers.
These forms of taxation through stamp duties and registration duties are quite modern inventions. Yet over the course of little more than a century stamp duties have become almost universal in Europe, and registration duties extremely common. No art passes more quickly from one government to another than that of draining money from the people’s pockets.
Taxes on transfers of property from the dead to the living fall both immediately and ultimately on the recipients. Taxes on land sales fall entirely on the seller. The seller is almost always compelled to sell, and must therefore accept what price he can get. The buyer is scarcely ever compelled to buy, and will therefore offer only a price he likes. He considers what the land will cost him in tax and purchase price together. The more he must pay in tax, the less he will be willing to offer as a price. Such taxes therefore fall almost always on someone in need, and must often be very cruel and oppressive. Taxes on the sale of newly built houses, where the building is sold without the land, generally fall on the buyer, because the builder must ordinarily make his profit or abandon the business. If he advances the tax, therefore, the buyer must ordinarily reimburse him. Taxes on the sale of old houses generally fall on the seller for the same reason as taxes on land sales: in most cases either convenience or necessity compels him to sell. The number of newly built houses brought to market each year is governed more or less by demand. Unless demand enables the builder to earn his profit after covering all expenses, he will build no more houses. The number of old houses that happen to come on the market at any given time is governed by accidents, most of which have nothing to do with demand. Two or three major bankruptcies in a commercial town will bring many houses to market that must be sold for whatever they will fetch. Taxes on the sale of ground rents fall entirely on the seller for the same reason as taxes on land sales. Stamp duties and duties on registering bonds and contracts for loans fall entirely on the borrower, who in fact always pays them. Duties of the same kind on legal proceedings fall on the litigants. For both parties, they reduce the capital value of the matter in dispute. The more it costs to acquire any property, the less its net value must be once acquired.
All taxes on transfers of property of every kind, insofar as they reduce that property’s capital value, tend to diminish the funds destined to maintain productive labor. They are all more or less wasteful taxes: they increase the sovereign’s revenue, which seldom maintains anyone but unproductive laborers, at the expense of the people’s capital, which maintains only productive ones.
Such taxes, even when proportioned to the value of the property transferred, are still unequal, because equally valuable properties do not always change hands with equal frequency. When they are not proportioned to that value, as is true of most stamp duties and registration duties, they are more unequal still. They are not arbitrary in any respect, but are, or can be, perfectly clear and certain in every case. Though they sometimes fall on someone not very able to pay, the time of payment is in most cases reasonably convenient for him. When payment falls due, he will in most cases have more with which to pay. Collection costs very little, and generally imposes no inconvenience on contributors other than the unavoidable one of paying the tax. Stamp duties are not much complained of in France. Registration duties, which the French call the Controle, are. It is alleged that they give rise to much extortion by the officers of the farmers-general who collect the tax, which is to a great extent arbitrary and uncertain. Abuses of the controle form a principal charge in most of the pamphlets written against the present French financial system. Uncertainty does not, however, seem intrinsic to taxes of this kind. If the popular complaints are justified, the abuse must arise less from the nature of the tax than from a lack of precision and clarity in the wording of the edicts or laws imposing it.
Registering mortgages, and rights over immovable property generally, provides great security to creditors and purchasers and is extremely beneficial to the public. Registering most other kinds of deeds is often inconvenient and even dangerous to individuals, without bringing any benefit to the public. Registers that, by common agreement, must be kept secret ought certainly never to exist. The credit of individuals ought never to depend on a security so frail as the integrity and religious conscience of junior revenue officers. But where registration fees have become a source of revenue for the sovereign, registration offices have commonly multiplied without limit, both for deeds that ought to be registered and for those that ought not. France has several different kinds of secret register. This abuse may not be a necessary effect of such taxes, but must be acknowledged to be a very natural one.
Stamp duties such as those in England on cards and dice, newspapers and periodical pamphlets, etc. are properly taxes on consumption; their ultimate burden falls on those who use or consume these goods. Stamp duties such as those on licenses to retail ale, wine, and spirituous liquors, though perhaps intended to fall on retailers’ profits, are likewise ultimately paid by the consumers of those drinks. Although these taxes bear the same name and are collected by the same officers and in the same way as the stamp duties mentioned above on transfers of property, they are of an entirely different nature and fall on entirely different funds.
ARTICLE III.—Taxes on the Wages of Labor.
Book V, Chapter II, 9
18th-century English
The wages of the inferior classes of work men, I have endeavoured to show in the first book are everywhere necessarily regulated by two different circumstances; the demand for labour, and the ordinary or average price of provisions. The demand for labour, according as it happens to be either increasing, stationary, or declining; or to require an increasing, stationary, or declining population, regulates the subsistence of the labourer, and determines in what degree it shall be either liberal, moderate, or scanty. The ordinary average price of provisions determines the quantity of money which must be paid to the workman, in order to enable him, one year with another, to purchase this liberal, moderate, or scanty subsistence. While the demand for the labour and the price of provisions, therefore, remain the same, a direct tax upon the wages of labour can have no other effect, than to raise them somewhat higher than the tax. Let us suppose, for example, that, in a particular place, the demand for labour and the price of provisions were such as to render ten shillings a-week the ordinary wages of labour; and that a tax of one-fifth, or four shillings in the pound, was imposed upon wages. If the demand for labour and the price of provisions remained the same, it would still be necessary that the labourer should, in that place, earn such a subsistence as could be bought only for ten shillings a-week; so that, after paying the tax, he should have ten shillings a-week free wages. But, in order to leave him such free wages, after paying such a tax, the price of labour must, in that place, soon rise, not to twelve shillings a week only, but to twelve and sixpence; that is, in order to enable him to pay a tax of one-fifth, his wages must necessarily soon rise, not one-fifth part only, but one-fourth. Whatever was the proportion of the tax, the wages of labour must, in all cases rise, not only in that proportion, but in a higher proportion. If the tax for example, was one-tenth, the wages of labour must necessarily soon rise, not one-tenth part only, but one-eighth.
A direct tax upon the wages of labour, therefore, though the labourer might, perhaps, pay it out of his hand, could not properly be said to be even advanced by him; at least if the demand for labour and the average price of provisions remained the same after the tax as before it. In all such cases, not only the tax, but something more than the tax, would in reality be advanced by the person who immediately employed him. The final payment would, in different cases, fall upon different persons. The rise which such a tax might occasion in the wages of manufacturing labour would be advanced by the master manufacturer, who would both be entitled and obliged to charge it, with a profit, upon the price of his goods. The final payment of this rise of wages, therefore, together with the additional profit of the master manufacturer would fall upon the consumer. The rise which such a tax might occasion in the wages of country labour would be advanced by the farmer, who, in order to maintain the same number of labourers as before, would be obliged to employ a greater capital. In order to get back this greater capital, together with the ordinary profits of stock, it would be necessary that he should retain a larger portion, or, what comes to the same thing, the price of a larger portion, of the produce of the land, and, consequently, that he should pay less rent to the landlord. The final payment of this rise of wages, therefore, would, in this case, fall upon the landlord, together with the additional profit of the farmer who had advanced it. In all cases, a direct tax upon the wages of labour must, in the long-run, occasion both a greater reduction in the rent of land, and a greater rise in the price of manufactured goods than would have followed from the proper assessment of a sum equal to the produce of the tax, partly upon the rent of land, and partly upon consumable commodities.
If direct taxes upon the wages of labour have not always occasioned a proportionable rise in those wages, it is because they have generally occasioned a considerable fall in the demand of labour. The declension of industry, the decrease of employment for the poor, the diminution of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, have generally been the effects of such taxes. In consequence of them, however, the price of labour must always be higher than it otherwise would have been in the actual state of the demand; and this enhancement of price, together with the profit of those who advance it, must always be finally paid by the landlords and consumers.
A tax upon the wages of country labour does not raise the price of the rude produce of land in proportion to the tax; for the same reason that a tax upon the farmer’s profit does not raise that price in that proportion.
Absurd and destructive as such taxes are, however, they take place in many countries. In France, that part of the taille which is charged upon the industry of workmen and day-labourers in country villages, is properly a tax of this kind. Their wages are computed according to the common rate of the district in which they reside; and, that they may be as little liable as possible to any overcharge, their yearly gains are estimated at no more than two hundred working days in the year. {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. ii. p. 108.} The tax of each individual is varied from year to year, according to different circumstances, of which the collector or the commissary, whom intendant appoints to assist him, are the judges. In Bohemia, in consequence of the alteration in the system of finances which was begun in 1748, a very heavy tax is imposed upon the industry of artificers. They are divided into four classes. The highest class pay a hundred florins a year, which, at two-and-twenty pence half penny a-florin, amounts to £9:7:6. The second class are taxed at seventy; the third at fifty; and the fourth, comprehending artificers in villages, and the lowest class of those in towns, at twenty-five florins. {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. iii. p. 87.}
The recompence of ingenious artists, and of men of liberal professions, I have endeavoured to show in the first book, necessarily keeps a certain proportion to the emoluments of inferior trades. A tax upon this recompence, therefore, could have no other effect than to raise it somewhat higher than in proportion to the tax. If it did not rise in this manner, the ingenious arts and the liberal professions, being no longer upon a level with other trades, would be so much deserted, that they would soon return to that level.
The emoluments of offices are not, like those of trades and professions, regulated by the free competition of the market, and do not, therefore, always bear a just proportion to what the nature of the employment requires. They are, perhaps, in most countries, higher than it requires; the persons who have the administration of government being generally disposed to regard both themselves and their immediate dependents, rather more than enough. The emoluments of offices, therefore, can, in most cases, very well bear to be taxed. The persons, besides, who enjoy public offices, especially the more lucrative, are, in all countries, the objects of general envy; and a tax upon their emoluments, even though it should be somewhat higher than upon any other sort of revenue, is always a very popular tax. In England, for example, when, by the land-tax, every other sort of revenue was supposed to be assessed at four shillings in the pound, it was very popular to lay a real tax of five shillings and sixpence in the pound upon the salaries of offices which exceeded a hundred pounds a-year; the pensions of the younger branches of the royal family, the pay of the officers of the army and navy, and a few others less obnoxious to envy, excepted. There are in England no other direct taxes upon the wages of labour.
ARTICLE IV.—Taxes which it is intended should fall indifferently upon every different Species of Revenue.
The taxes which it is intended should fall indifferently upon every different species of revenue, are capitation taxes, and taxes upon consumable commodities. Those must be paid indifferently, from whatever revenue the contributors may possess; from the rent of their land, from the profits of their stock, or from the wages of their labour.
Capitation Taxes.
Capitation taxes, if it is attempted to proportion them to the fortune or revenue of each contributor, become altogether arbitrary. The state of a man’s fortune varies from day to day; and, without an inquisition, more intolerable than any tax, and renewed at least once every year, can only be guessed at. His assessment, therefore, must, in most cases, depend upon the good or bad humour of his assessors, and must, therefore, be altogether arbitrary and uncertain.
Capitation taxes, if they are proportioned, not to the supposed fortune, but to the rank of each contributor, become altogether unequal; the degrees of fortune being frequently unequal in the same degree of rank.
Such taxes, therefore, if it is attempted to render them equal, become altogether arbitrary and uncertain; and if it is attempted to render them certain and not arbitrary, become altogether unequal. Let the tax be light or heavy, uncertainty is always a great grievance. In a light tax, a considerable degree of inequality may be supported; in a heavy one, it is altogether intolerable.
In the different poll-taxes which took place in England during the reign of William III. the contributors were, the greater part of them, assessed according to the degree of their rank; as dukes, marquises, earls, viscounts, barons, esquires, gentlemen, the eldest and youngest sons of peers, etc. All shop-keepers and tradesmen worth more than three hundred pounds, that is, the better sort of them, were subject to the same assessment, how great soever might be the difference in their fortunes. Their rank was more considered than their fortune. Several of those who, in the first poll-tax, were rated according to their supposed fortune were afterwards rated according to their rank. Serjeants, attorneys, and proctors at law, who, in the first poll-tax, were assessed at three shillings in the pound of their supposed income, were afterwards assessed as gentlemen. In the assessment of a tax which was not very heavy, a considerable degree of inequality had been found less insupportable than any degree of uncertainty.
In the capitation which has been levied in France, without-any interruption, since the beginning of the present century, the highest orders of people are rated according to their rank, by an invariable tariff; the lower orders of people, according to what is supposed to be their fortune, by an assessment which varies from year to year. The officers of the king’s court, the judges, and other officers in the superior courts of justice, the officers of the troops, etc are assessed in the first manner. The inferior ranks of people in the provinces are assessed in the second. In France, the great easily submit to a considerable degree of inequality in a tax which, so far as it affects them, is not a very heavy one; but could not brook the arbitrary assessment of an intendant.
The inferior ranks of people must, in that country, suffer patiently the usage which their superiors think proper to give them.
In England, the different poll-taxes never produced the sum which had been expected from them, or which it was supposed they might have produced, had they been exactly levied. In France, the capitation always produces the sum expected from it. The mild government of England, when it assessed the different ranks of people to the poll-tax, contented itself with what that assessment happened to produce, and required no compensation for the loss which the state might sustain, either by those who could not pay, or by those who would not pay (for there were many such), and who, by the indulgent execution of the law, were not forced to pay. The more severe government of France assesses upon each generality a certain sum, which the intendant must find as he can. If any province complains of being assessed too high, it may, in the assessment of next year, obtain an abatement proportioned to the overcharge of the year before; but it must pay in the mean time. The intendant, in order to be sure of finding the sum assessed upon his generality, was empowered to assess it in a larger sum, that the failure or inability of some of the contributors might be compensated by the overcharge of the rest; and till 1765, the fixation of this surplus assessment was left altogether to his discretion. In that year, indeed, the council assumed this power to itself. In the capitation of the provinces, it is observed by the perfectly well informed author of the Memoirs upon the Impositions in France, the proportion which falls upon the nobility, and upon those whose privileges exempt them from the taille, is the least considerable. The largest falls upon those subject to the taille, who are assessed to the capitation at so much a-pound of what they pay to that other tax. Capitation taxes, so far as they are levied upon the lower ranks of people, are direct taxes upon the wages of labour, and are attended with all the inconveniencies of such taxes.
Capitation taxes are levied at little expense; and, where they are rigorously exacted, afford a very sure revenue to the state. It is upon this account that, in countries where the case, comfort, and security of the inferior ranks of people are little attended to, capitation taxes are very common. It is in general, however, but a small part of the public revenue, which, in a great empire, has ever been drawn from such taxes; and the greatest sum which they have ever afforded, might always have been found in some other way much more convenient to the people.
Taxes upon Consumable Commodities.
The impossibility of taxing the people, in proportion to their revenue, by any capitation, seems to have given occasion to the invention of taxes upon consumable commodities. The state not knowing how to tax, directly and proportionably, the revenue of its subjects, endeavours to tax it indirectly by taxing their expense, which, it is supposed, will, in most cases, be nearly in proportion to their revenue. Their expense is taxed, by taxing the consumable commodities upon which it is laid out.
Consumable commodities are either necessaries or luxuries.
By necessaries I understand, not only the commodities which are indispensibly necessary for the support of life, but whatever the custom of the country renders it indecent for creditable people, even of the lowest order, to be without. A linen shirt, for example, is, strictly speaking, not a necessary of life. The Greeks and Romans lived, I suppose, very comfortably, though they had no linen. But in the present times, through the greater part of Europe, a creditable day-labourer would be ashamed to appear in public without a linen shirt, the want of which would be supposed to denote that disgraceful degree of poverty, which, it is presumed, nobody can well fall into without extreme bad conduct. Custom, in the same manner, has rendered leather shoes a necessary of life in England. The poorest creditable person, of either sex, would be ashamed to appear in public without them. In Scotland, custom has rendered them a necessary of life to the lowest order of men; but not to the same order of women, who may, without any discredit, walk about barefooted. In France, they are necessaries neither to men nor to women; the lowest rank of both sexes appearing there publicly, without any discredit, sometimes in wooden shoes, and sometimes barefooted. Under necessaries, therefore, I comprehend, not only those things which nature, but those things which the established rules of decency have rendered necessary to the lowest rank of people. All other things I call luxuries, without meaning, by this appellation, to throw the smallest degree of reproach upon the temperate use of them. Beer and ale, for example, in Great Britain, and wine, even in the wine countries, I call luxuries. A man of any rank may, without any reproach, abstain totally from tasting such liquors. Nature does not render them necessary for the support of life; and custom nowhere renders it indecent to live without them.
English
The wages of workers in the lower ranks, as I have tried to show in the first book, are everywhere necessarily regulated by two different circumstances: the demand for labor and the ordinary or average price of provisions. The demand for labor, according as it is rising, steady, or falling—or calls for a rising, steady, or falling population—governs the laborer’s subsistence and determines whether it is ample, moderate, or scanty. The ordinary average price of provisions determines the amount of money the worker must be paid to enable him, from year to year, to purchase this ample, moderate, or scanty subsistence. Therefore, so long as the demand for labor and the price of provisions remain the same, a direct tax on wages can have no other effect than to raise wages by somewhat more than the tax. Suppose, for example, that in a particular place demand for labor and the price of provisions make ten shillings a week the ordinary wage, and a tax of one-fifth, or four shillings in the pound, is imposed on wages. If demand for labor and the price of provisions remain the same, the laborer in that place must still earn the subsistence that can be bought only for ten shillings a week, so that after paying the tax he has ten shillings a week in take-home wages. But to leave him this amount after paying such a tax, the price of labor in that place must soon rise not merely to twelve shillings a week but to twelve and sixpence. That is, to enable him to pay a tax of one-fifth, his wages must soon rise not merely by one-fifth but by one-fourth. Whatever the proportion of the tax, wages must in every case rise by more than that proportion. If the tax, for example, were one-tenth, wages would soon have to rise not merely by one-tenth but by one-eighth.
A direct tax on wages, therefore, though the laborer might perhaps pay it from his own hand, could not properly be said even to be advanced by him—at least if demand for labor and the average price of provisions remained the same after the tax as before. In every such case, the person immediately employing him would in reality advance not only the tax but something more. The ultimate burden would fall on different people in different cases. A rise in manufacturing wages caused by such a tax would be advanced by the manufacturer, who would be both entitled and obliged to add it, together with a profit, to the price of his goods. The ultimate burden of this rise in wages, together with the manufacturer’s additional profit, would therefore fall on the consumer. A rise in rural wages caused by such a tax would be advanced by the farmer, who would need to employ more capital to maintain the same number of laborers as before. To recover this additional capital together with the ordinary profits of stock, he would have to retain a larger portion of the land’s produce, or, what amounts to the same thing, the price of a larger portion; consequently he would pay less rent to the landlord. The ultimate burden of this rise in wages would therefore fall on the landlord, together with the additional profit of the farmer who advanced it. In every case a direct tax on wages must in the long run cause both a greater reduction in land rent and a greater rise in the price of manufactured goods than would result from properly assessing a sum equal to the tax’s yield, partly on land rent and partly on consumable commodities.
If direct taxes on wages have not always caused wages to rise proportionately, it is because they have generally brought about a substantial fall in the demand for labor. A decline in industry, a loss of employment for the poor, and a reduction in the annual produce of the country’s land and labor have generally followed such taxes. Even so, wages must always be higher as a result than they would have been under the actual conditions of demand without the taxes; and this increase, together with the profit of those who advance it, must ultimately be paid by landlords and consumers.
A tax on rural wages does not raise the price of the land’s raw produce in proportion to the tax, for the same reason that a tax on the farmer’s profit does not raise that price in proportion to it.
Absurd and destructive as such taxes are, they nonetheless exist in many countries. In France, the part of the taille charged on the labor of workers and day laborers in country villages is properly a tax of this kind. Their wages are calculated at the usual rate in the district where they live; to make them as little liable to overcharging as possible, their yearly earnings are estimated at no more than two hundred working days in the year. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. ii. p. 108.] Each person’s tax varies from year to year according to different circumstances judged by the collector or by the commissioner appointed by the intendant to assist him. In Bohemia, as a result of the changes to the financial system begun in 1748, a very heavy tax is imposed on artisans’ labor. They are divided into four classes. The highest class pays a hundred florins a year, which, at two-and-twenty pence half penny a florin, amounts to £9:7:6. The second class is taxed at seventy; the third at fifty; and the fourth, which includes artisans in villages and the lowest class of those in towns, at twenty-five florins. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. iii. p. 87.]
The compensation of skilled artists and members of the learned professions, as I have tried to show in the first book, necessarily bears a certain proportion to the earnings of humbler trades. A tax on that compensation could therefore have no other effect than to raise it by somewhat more than the tax’s proportion. If it did not rise in this way, the skilled arts and learned professions, no longer on a level with other trades, would be abandoned by so many people that their earnings would soon return to that level.
The earnings of public offices are not, like those of trades and professions, regulated by free competition in the market, and therefore do not always bear a fair proportion to what the work requires. In most countries they are perhaps higher than the work requires, since those who administer government are generally disposed to favor themselves and their immediate dependents rather more than enough. The earnings of public offices can therefore, in most cases, very well bear taxation. Moreover, those who hold public office, especially the more lucrative offices, are objects of widespread envy in every country; a tax on their earnings, even if somewhat higher than on other kinds of revenue, is always very popular. In England, for example, when the land tax was supposed to assess every other kind of revenue at four shillings in the pound, it was very popular to impose an actual tax of five shillings and sixpence in the pound on salaries from offices paying more than a hundred pounds a year. The pensions of younger members of the royal family, the pay of army and navy officers, and a few others less exposed to envy were excepted. There are no other direct taxes on wages in England.
ARTICLE IV.—Taxes Intended to Fall Equally on Every Different Kind of Revenue.
The taxes intended to fall equally on every different kind of revenue are capitation taxes and taxes on consumable commodities. These must be paid out of whatever revenue contributors possess: the rent of their land, the profits of their stock, or the wages of their labor.
Capitation Taxes.
Capitation taxes become wholly arbitrary if an attempt is made to proportion them to each contributor’s fortune or revenue. A person’s fortune changes from day to day and, without an inquiry more intolerable than any tax, renewed at least once a year, can only be guessed at. His assessment must therefore in most cases depend on the good or bad temper of his assessors, and thus be wholly arbitrary and uncertain.
Capitation taxes become wholly unequal if they are proportioned not to supposed fortune but to each contributor’s rank; fortunes often differ even among people of the same rank.
If an attempt is made to make such taxes equal, then, they become wholly arbitrary and uncertain; if the attempt is to make them certain and not arbitrary, they become wholly unequal. Whether the tax is light or heavy, uncertainty is always a great grievance. With a light tax, a considerable degree of inequality may be borne; with a heavy one, it is wholly intolerable.
In the various poll taxes imposed in England during the reign of William III., most contributors were assessed according to their rank: dukes, marquises, earls, viscounts, barons, esquires, gentlemen, the eldest and youngest sons of peers, etc. All shopkeepers and tradesmen worth more than three hundred pounds—the more prosperous among them—were subject to the same assessment, however much their fortunes might differ. Their rank counted for more than their fortune. Several people assessed in the first poll tax according to their supposed fortune were later assessed according to rank. Serjeants, attorneys, and proctors at law, assessed under the first poll tax at three shillings in the pound of their supposed income, were later assessed as gentlemen. In assessing a tax that was not very heavy, considerable inequality had proved less intolerable than any degree of uncertainty.
In the capitation tax levied in France without interruption since the beginning of the present century, people of the highest orders are assessed according to rank at an unchanging rate; the lower orders are assessed according to their supposed fortune, at a rate that changes from year to year. Officers of the king’s court, judges and other officers of the superior courts of justice, officers of the troops, etc. are assessed in the first way. People of the lower ranks in the provinces are assessed in the second. In France, the great readily tolerate considerable inequality in a tax that is not very heavy for them, but could not endure assessment at the arbitrary will of an intendant.
In that country the lower ranks must patiently endure whatever treatment their superiors see fit to give them.
In England, the various poll taxes never yielded the sum expected of them, or the sum they were thought capable of yielding if collected exactly. In France, the capitation tax always yields the sum expected. The milder government of England, when it assessed the different ranks for the poll tax, accepted whatever that assessment happened to produce and demanded no compensation for the loss the state might suffer from people who could not pay or those who would not pay (and there were many of these), whom the lenient enforcement of the law did not compel to pay. The more severe government of France assesses a fixed sum on each generality, which the intendant must raise as best he can. If a province complains that its assessment is too high, it may obtain a reduction the following year proportionate to the previous year’s excess, but meanwhile it must pay. To ensure that he could raise the sum assessed on his generality, the intendant was empowered to assess a larger sum, so that the failure or inability of some contributors could be offset by overcharging the rest; until 1765 the size of this surplus assessment was left entirely to his discretion. In that year, however, the council assumed this power itself. In the capitation tax of the provinces, the thoroughly well-informed author of the Memoirs upon the Impositions in France observes, the share borne by the nobility and by those whose privileges exempt them from the taille is the smallest. The largest share falls on those subject to the taille, who are assessed for the capitation at a certain amount per pound of what they pay under that other tax. Capitation taxes, insofar as they are levied on the lower ranks, are direct taxes on wages and bring all the inconveniences of such taxes.
Capitation taxes cost little to collect and, where rigorously exacted, provide the state with a very secure revenue. This is why capitation taxes are very common in countries where little attention is paid to the ease, comfort, and security of the lower ranks. Generally, however, only a small part of the public revenue of a great empire has ever been drawn from such taxes; even the largest sum they have ever yielded could always have been raised in another way much more convenient to the people.
Taxes on Consumable Commodities.
The impossibility of taxing people in proportion to their revenue through any capitation tax seems to have prompted the invention of taxes on consumable commodities. Not knowing how to tax its subjects’ revenue directly and proportionately, the state tries to tax it indirectly by taxing their expenditure, which is presumed in most cases to be nearly proportionate to their revenue. Their expenditure is taxed by taxing the consumable commodities on which it is spent.
Consumable commodities are either necessities or luxuries.
By necessities I mean not only the commodities indispensable to life, but whatever the custom of a country makes it indecent for respectable people, even of the lowest rank, to do without. A linen shirt, for example, is not strictly a necessity of life. The Greeks and Romans, I suppose, lived quite comfortably without linen. But today, throughout most of Europe, a respectable day laborer would be ashamed to appear in public without a linen shirt. Its absence would be taken as a sign of that disgraceful degree of poverty into which, it is assumed, no one can readily fall without extreme misconduct. Custom has likewise made leather shoes a necessity of life in England. The poorest respectable person, whether man or woman, would be ashamed to appear in public without them. In Scotland, custom has made them necessary to men of the lowest rank, but not to women of that rank, who may go barefoot without any discredit. In France they are necessary to neither men nor women; people of the lowest rank of both sexes sometimes appear in public in wooden shoes and sometimes barefoot, without any discredit. By necessities, therefore, I include not only what nature requires, but what established rules of decency have made necessary to the lowest rank of people. Everything else I call luxuries, without intending the slightest reproach to their moderate use. Beer and ale in Great Britain, for example, and wine even in wine-producing countries, I call luxuries. A person of any rank may abstain altogether from such drinks without reproach. Nature does not require them for the preservation of life; nowhere does custom make it indecent to live without them.
Book V, Chapter II, 10
18th-century English
As the wages of labour are everywhere regulated, partly by the demand for it, and partly by the average price of the necessary articles of subsistence; whatever raises this average price must necessarily raise those wages; so that the labourer may still be able to purchase that quantity of those necessary articles which the state of the demand for labour, whether increasing, stationary, or declining, requires that he should have. {See book i.chap. 8} A tax upon those articles necessarily raises their price somewhat higher than the amount of the tax, because the dealer, who advances the tax, must generally get it back, with a profit. Such a tax must, therefore, occasion a rise in the wages of labour, proportionable to this rise of price.
It is thus that a tax upon the necessaries of life operates exactly in the same manner as a direct tax upon the wages of labour. The labourer, though he may pay it out of his hand, cannot, for any considerable time at least, be properly said even to advance it. It must always, in the long-run, be advanced to him by his immediate employer, in the advanced state of wages. His employer, if he is a manufacturer, will charge upon the price of his goods the rise of wages, together with a profit, so that the final payment of the tax, together with this overcharge, will fall upon the consumer. If his employer is a farmer, the final payment, together with a like overcharge, will fall upon the rent of the landlord.
It is otherwise with taxes upon what I call luxuries, even upon those of the poor. The rise in the price of the taxed commodities, will not necessarily occasion any rise in the wages of labour. A tax upon tobacco, for example, though a luxury of the poor, as well as of the rich, will not raise wages. Though it is taxed in England at three times, and in France at fifteen times its original price, those high duties seem to have no effect upon the wages of labour. The same thing maybe said of the taxes upon tea and sugar, which, in England and Holland, have become luxuries of the lowest ranks of people; and of those upon chocolate, which, in Spain, is said to have become so.
The different taxes which, in Great Britain, have, in the course of the present century, been imposed upon spiritous liquors, are not supposed to have had any effect upon the wages of labour. The rise in the price of porter, occasioned by an additional tax of three shillings upon the barrel of strong beer, has not raised the wages of common labour in London. These were about eighteen pence or twenty pence a-day before the tax, and they are not more now.
The high price of such commodities does not necessarily diminish the ability of the inferior ranks of people to bring up families. Upon the sober and industrious poor, taxes upon such commodities act as sumptuary laws, and dispose them either to moderate, or to refrain altogether from the use of superfluities which they can no longer easily afford. Their ability to bring up families, in consequence of this forced frugality, instead of being diminished, is frequently, perhaps, increased by the tax. It is the sober and industrious poor who generally bring up the most numerous families, and who principally supply the demand for useful labour. All the poor, indeed, are not sober and industrious; and the dissolute and disorderly might continue to indulge themselves in the use of such commodities, after this rise of price, in the same manner as before, without regarding the distress which this indulgence might bring upon their families. Such disorderly persons, however, seldom rear up numerous families, their children generally perishing from neglect, mismanagement, and the scantiness or unwholesomeness of their food. If by the strength of their constitution, they survive the hardships to which the bad conduct of their parents exposes them, yet the example of that bad conduct commonly corrupts their morals; so that, instead of being useful to society by their industry, they become public nuisances by their vices and disorders. Through the advanced price of the luxuries of the poor, therefore, might increase somewhat the distress of such disorderly families, and thereby diminish somewhat their ability to bring up children, it would not probably diminish much the useful population of the country.
Any rise in the average price of necessaries, unless it be compensated by a proportionable rise in the wages of labour, must necessarily diminish, more or less, the ability of the poor to bring up numerous families, and, consequently, to supply the demand for useful labour; whatever may be the state of that demand, whether increasing, stationary, or declining; or such as requires an increasing, stationary, or declining population.
Taxes upon luxuries have no tendency to raise the price of any other commodities, except that of the commodities taxed. Taxes upon necessaries, by raising the wages of labour, necessarily tend to raise the price of all manufactures, and consequently to diminish the extent of their sale and consumption. Taxes upon luxuries are finally paid by the consumers of the commodities taxed, without any retribution. They fall indifferently upon every species of revenue, the wages of labour, the profits of stock, and the rent of land. Taxes upon necessaries, so far as they affect the labouring poor, are finally paid, partly by landlords, in the diminished rent of their lands, and partly by rich consumers, whether landlords or others, in the advanced price of manufactured goods; and always with a considerable overcharge. The advanced price of such manufactures as are real necessaries of life, and are destined for the consumption of the poor, of coarse woollens, for example, must be compensated to the poor by a farther advancement of their wages. The middling and superior ranks of people, if they understood their own interest, ought always to oppose all taxes upon the necessaries of life, as well as all taxes upon the wages of labour. The final payment of both the one and the other falls altogether upon themselves, and always with a considerable overcharge. They fall heaviest upon the landlords, who always pay in a double capacity; in that of landlords, by the reduction, of their rent; and in that of rich consumers, by the increase of their expense. The observation of Sir Matthew Decker, that certain taxes are, in the price of certain goods, sometimes repeated and accumulated four or five times, is perfectly just with regard to taxes upon the necessaries of life. In the price of leather, for example, you must pay not only for the tax upon the leather of your own shoes, but for a part of that upon those of the shoemaker and the tanner. You must pay, too, for the tax upon the salt, upon the soap, and upon the candles which those workmen consume while employed in your service; and for the tax upon the leather, which the saltmaker, the soap-maker, and the candle-maker consume, while employed in their service.
In Great Britain, the principal taxes upon the necessaries of life, are those upon the four commodities just now mentioned, salt, leather, soap, and candles.
Salt is a very ancient and a very universal subject of taxation. It was taxed among the Romans, and it is so at present in, I believe, every part of Europe. The quantity annually consumed by any individual is so small, and may be purchased so gradually, that nobody, it seems to have been thought, could feel very sensibly even a pretty heavy tax upon it. It is in England taxed at three shillings and fourpence a bushel; about three times the original price of the commodity. In some other countries, the tax is still higher. Leather is a real necessary of life. The use of linen renders soap such. In countries where the winter nights are long, candles are a necessary instrument of trade. Leather and soap are in Great Britain taxed at three halfpence a-pound; candles at a penny; taxes which, upon the original price of leather, may amount to about eight or ten per cent.; upon that of soap, to about twenty or five-and-twenty per cent.; and upon that of candles to about fourteen or fifteen per cent.; taxes which, though lighter than that upon salt, are still very heavy. As all those four commodities are real necessaries of life, such heavy taxes upon them must increase somewhat the expense of the sober and industrious poor, and must consequently raise more or less the wages of their labour.
In a country where the winters are so cold as in Great Britain, fuel is, during that season, in the strictest sense of the word, a necessary of life, not only for the purpose of dressing victuals, but for the comfortable subsistence of many different sorts of workmen who work within doors; and coals are the cheapest of all fuel. The price of fuel has so important an influence upon that of labour, that all over Great Britain, manufactures have confined themselves principally to the coal counties; other parts of the country, on account of the high price of this necessary article, not being able to work so cheap. In some manufactures, besides, coal is a necessary instrument of trade; as in those of glass, iron, and all other metals. If a bounty could in any case be reasonable, it might perhaps be so upon the transportation of coals from those parts of the country in which they abound, to those in which they are wanted. But the legislature, instead of a bounty, has imposed a tax of three shillings and threepence a-ton upon coals carried coastways; which, upon most sorts of coal, is more than sixty per cent. of the original price at the coal pit. Coals carried, either by land or by inland navigation, pay no duty. Where they are naturally cheap, they are consumed duty free; where they are naturally dear, they are loaded with a heavy duty.
Such taxes, though they raise the price of subsistence, and consequently the wages of labour, yet they afford a considerable revenue to government, which it might not be easy to find in any other way. There may, therefore, be good reasons for continuing them. The bounty upon the exportation of corn, so far as it tends, in the actual state of tillage, to raise the price of that necessary article, produces all the like bad effects; and instead of affording any revenue, frequently occasions a very great expense to government. The high duties upon the importation of foreign corn, which, in years of moderate plenty, amount to a prohibition; and the absolute prohibition of the importation, either of live cattle, or of salt provisions, which takes place in the ordinary state of the law, and which, on account of the scarcity, is at present suspended for a limited time with regard to Ireland and the British plantations, have all had the bad effects of taxes upon the necessaries of life, and produce no revenue to government. Nothing seems necessary for the repeal of such regulations, but to convince the public of the futility of that system in consequence of which they have been established.
Taxes upon the necessaries of life are much higher in many other countries than in Great Britain. Duties upon flour and meal when ground at the mill, and upon bread when baked at the oven, take place in many countries. In Holland the money-price of the bread consumed in towns is supposed to be doubled by means of such taxes. In lieu of a part of them, the people who live in the country, pay every year so much a-head, according to the sort of bread they are supposed to consume. Those who consume wheaten bread pay three guilders fifteen stivers; about six shillings and ninepence halfpenny. Those, and some other taxes of the same kind, by raising the price of labour, are said to have ruined the greater part of the manufactures of Holland {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. p. 210, 211.}. Similar taxes, though not quite so heavy, take place in the Milanese, in the states of Genoa, in the duchy of Modena, in the duchies of Parma, Placentia, and Guastalla, and the Ecclesiastical state. A French author {Le Reformateur} of some note, has proposed to reform the finances of his country, by substituting in the room of the greater part of other taxes, this most ruinous of all taxes. There is nothing so absurd, says Cicero, which has not sometimes been asserted by some philosophers.
Taxes upon butcher’s meat are still more common than those upon bread. It may indeed be doubted, whether butcher’s meat is any where a necessary of life. Grain and other vegetables, with the help of milk, cheese, and butter, or oil, where butter is not to be had, it is known from experience, can, without any butcher’s meat, afford the most plentiful, the most wholesome, the most nourishing, and the most invigorating diet. Decency nowhere requires that any man should eat butcher’s meat, as it in most places requires that he should wear a linen shirt or a pair of leather shoes.
Consumable commodities, whether necessaries or luxuries, may be taxed in two different ways. The consumer may either pay an annual sum on account of his using or consuming goods of a certain kind; or the goods may be taxed while they remain in the hands of the dealer, and before they are delivered to the consumer. The consumable goods which last a considerable time before they are consumed altogether, are most properly taxed in the one way; those of which the consumption is either immediate or more speedy, in the other. The coach-tax and plate tax are examples of the former method of imposing; the greater part of the other duties of excise and customs, of the latter.
A coach may, with good management, last ten or twelve years. It might be taxed, once for all, before it comes out of the hands of the coach-maker. But it is certainly more convenient for the buyer to pay four pounds a-year for the privilege of keeping a coach, than to pay all at once forty or forty-eight pounds additional price to the coach-maker; or a sum equivalent to what the tax is likely to cost him during the time he uses the same coach. A service of plate in the same manner, may last more than a century. It is certainly-easier for the consumer to pay five shillings a-year for every hundred ounces of plate, near one per cent. of the value, than to redeem this long annuity at five-and-twenty or thirty years purchase, which would enhance the price at least five-and-twenty or thirty per cent. The different taxes which affect houses, are certainly more conveniently paid by moderate annual payments, than by a heavy tax of equal value upon the first building or sale of the house.
English
Because wages of labor are regulated everywhere partly by the demand for labor and partly by the average price of the necessities of life, anything that raises this average price must also raise wages. Only then can the laborer still buy the quantity of necessities required by the state of demand for labor, whether that demand is growing, stationary, or declining. [See book i.chap. 8] A tax on these articles necessarily raises their price somewhat more than the amount of the tax, since the dealer who advances it must generally recover it with a profit. Such a tax must therefore raise wages in proportion to the rise in price.
This is how a tax on the necessities of life works exactly like a direct tax on wages. Though the laborer may pay it out of his own hand, he cannot properly be said even to advance it, at least for any considerable time. In the long run his immediate employer must always advance it to him in the form of higher wages. If the employer is a manufacturer, he will add the rise in wages, together with a profit, to the price of his goods; the consumer will thus bear the final payment of the tax and this surcharge. If the employer is a farmer, the final payment, with a similar surcharge, will fall on the landlord's rent.
Taxes on what I call luxuries, even the luxuries of the poor, are different. A rise in the price of the taxed goods does not necessarily bring any rise in wages. A tax on tobacco, for example, a luxury of poor and rich alike, will not raise wages. Though in England tobacco is taxed at three times its original price, and in France at fifteen times that price, these high duties seem to have no effect on wages. The same may be said of taxes on tea and sugar, which in England and Holland have become luxuries of the lowest ranks, and of taxes on chocolate, which is said to have done so in Spain.
The various taxes imposed on spirituous liquors in Great Britain during the present century are not thought to have affected wages. The increase in the price of porter caused by an additional tax of three shillings on a barrel of strong beer has not raised ordinary wages in London. These were about eighteen pence or twenty pence a day before the tax, and are no higher now.
High prices for such goods do not necessarily diminish the ability of the lower ranks to raise families. For the sober and industrious poor, taxes on these goods act like sumptuary laws, prompting them to moderate their use of luxuries they can no longer easily afford, or to give them up entirely. Rather than diminishing their ability to raise families, this enforced frugality may often increase it. It is the sober and industrious poor who generally raise the largest families and principally supply the demand for useful labor. Not all the poor, certainly, are sober and industrious. The dissolute and disorderly might go on indulging in these goods after the rise in price, just as before, without regard for the distress their indulgence may bring on their families. Such disorderly people, however, seldom raise large families: their children generally perish through neglect, mismanagement, or insufficient or unwholesome food. Even if strong constitutions enable the children to survive the hardships caused by their parents' bad conduct, its example commonly corrupts their morals. Instead of serving society through their industry, they become public nuisances through their vices and disorders. Thus, although the higher price of the poor's luxuries might somewhat increase the distress of such disorderly families, and thereby somewhat impair their ability to raise children, it would probably not much reduce the country's useful population.
Any rise in the average price of necessities, unless offset by a proportional rise in wages, must to some degree diminish the poor's ability to raise large families and, consequently, to meet the demand for useful labor. This holds whatever the state of that demand—growing, stationary, or declining—and whether it calls for a growing, stationary, or declining population.
Taxes on luxuries do not tend to raise the price of any goods except those taxed. Taxes on necessities, by raising wages, necessarily tend to raise the price of all manufactured goods and so reduce the extent of their sale and consumption. Taxes on luxuries are paid finally by the consumers of the taxed goods, without reimbursement. They fall alike on every kind of revenue: wages of labor, profits of stock, and rent of land. Taxes on necessities, insofar as they affect the laboring poor, are ultimately paid partly by landlords through diminished rent, and partly by wealthy consumers, whether landlords or others, through higher prices for manufactured goods; and they are always paid with a considerable surcharge. A further rise in wages must compensate the poor for the increased price of manufactured goods that are genuine necessities intended for their use, such as coarse woolens. If the middle and upper ranks understood their own interest, they would always oppose taxes on the necessities of life as well as taxes on wages. The final cost of both falls entirely on them, and always with a substantial surcharge. Landlords bear the heaviest burden, paying twice: as landlords through reduced rent, and as wealthy consumers through increased expense. Sir Matthew Decker's observation that certain taxes are sometimes repeated and accumulated four or five times in the price of certain goods is entirely sound as regards taxes on necessities. In the price of leather, for example, you pay not only the tax on the leather in your own shoes, but part of the tax on the shoes of the shoemaker and the tanner. You also pay the taxes on the salt, soap, and candles these workers use while working for you, and the tax on the leather used by the saltmaker, soap-maker, and candle-maker while working for them.
In Great Britain the principal taxes on necessities are those on the four goods just mentioned: salt, leather, soap, and candles.
Salt has been taxed since ancient times and almost everywhere. It was taxed among the Romans, and, I believe, is now taxed throughout Europe. Each person's annual consumption is so small, and the salt can be bought so gradually, that it seems to have been thought no one would feel even a fairly heavy tax on it very keenly. In England the tax is three shillings and fourpence a bushel, about three times the original price of salt. In some other countries it is higher still. Leather is a genuine necessity. The use of linen makes soap one. Where winter nights are long, candles are a necessary instrument of trade. In Great Britain leather and soap are taxed at three halfpence a pound, and candles at a penny. Relative to their original prices, these taxes may amount to about eight or ten per cent. on leather, about twenty or five-and-twenty per cent. on soap, and about fourteen or fifteen per cent. on candles. Though lighter than the tax on salt, they are still very heavy. Because all four goods are genuine necessities, such heavy taxes must somewhat increase the expenses of the sober and industrious poor, and must consequently raise their wages to some degree.
In a country with winters as cold as Great Britain's, fuel is, during that season, a necessity of life in the strictest sense: not only for cooking food, but for the comfortable subsistence of many kinds of workers employed indoors. Coal is the cheapest fuel of all. Its price has so great an influence on the price of labor that manufactures throughout Great Britain have settled chiefly in the coal counties; other parts of the country cannot work as cheaply because this necessary article costs more there. Coal, moreover, is a necessary instrument of trade in some manufactures, such as glass, iron, and all other metals. If a bounty could ever be justified, it might perhaps be one for transporting coal from parts of the country where it abounds to those where it is needed. Instead of a bounty, however, the legislature has imposed a tax of three shillings and threepence a ton on coal carried coastwise—more than sixty per cent. of the original price at the pit for most sorts of coal. Coal carried by land or inland waterways pays no duty. Where it is naturally cheap it is consumed duty-free; where naturally dear, it bears a heavy duty.
Such taxes raise the price of subsistence, and therefore wages, but they also bring government substantial revenue that might not easily be found elsewhere. There may thus be good reasons to retain them. A bounty on the export of corn, insofar as it raises the price of that necessity under the present state of cultivation, produces all the same harmful effects; and instead of bringing in revenue, it often imposes a very great expense on government. The high duties on imported foreign corn, which amount to a prohibition in years of moderate abundance, and the outright prohibition on importing either live cattle or salted provisions under ordinary law—now temporarily suspended, because of scarcity, for Ireland and the British plantations—have all had the harmful effects of taxes on necessities, yet bring government no revenue. To repeal such regulations, it seems necessary only to convince the public of the futility of the system under which they were established.
Taxes on necessities are much higher in many other countries than in Great Britain. Many countries impose duties on flour and meal when ground at the mill and on bread when baked in the oven. In Holland such taxes are thought to double the money price of bread eaten in towns. In place of part of these taxes, country people pay an annual per-head charge according to the kind of bread they are presumed to eat. Those who eat wheat bread pay three guilders fifteen stivers, about six shillings and ninepence halfpenny. These and similar taxes, by raising the price of labor, are said to have ruined most of Holland's manufactures [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. p. 210, 211.]. Similar taxes, though not quite so heavy, exist in the Milanese, the states of Genoa, the duchy of Modena, the duchies of Parma, Placentia, and Guastalla, and the Ecclesiastical state. A French author [Le Reformateur] of some standing has proposed to reform his country's finances by replacing most other taxes with this most ruinous of all taxes. Nothing is so absurd, Cicero says, that some philosophers have not at times asserted it.
Taxes on butcher's meat are even more common than taxes on bread. Yet one may doubt whether butcher's meat is anywhere a necessity of life. Experience shows that grain and other vegetables, with milk, cheese, and butter—or oil where butter cannot be had—can furnish, without any butcher's meat, a diet most ample, wholesome, nourishing, and invigorating. Decency nowhere requires a man to eat butcher's meat, as in most places it requires him to wear a linen shirt or leather shoes.
Consumable goods, necessities and luxuries alike, can be taxed in two ways. The consumer can pay an annual sum for using or consuming a certain kind of goods; or the goods can be taxed while still in the dealer's hands, before delivery to the consumer. Goods that last a considerable time before being entirely consumed are most suitably taxed in the first way; goods consumed immediately or more quickly, in the second. The coach tax and plate tax exemplify the first method; most other excise and customs duties, the second.
With proper care, a coach can last ten or twelve years. It could be taxed once and for all before it leaves the coach-maker's hands. But it is surely more convenient for a buyer to pay four pounds a year for the privilege of keeping a coach than to pay the coach-maker an additional forty or forty-eight pounds all at once, or a sum equivalent to what the tax would probably cost over the period in which the buyer uses that coach. A service of plate, likewise, can last more than a century. It is surely easier for its owner to pay five shillings a year for every hundred ounces of plate, nearly one per cent. of its value, than to redeem this long annuity at five-and-twenty or thirty years' purchase, which would raise its price by at least five-and-twenty or thirty per cent. The various taxes on houses, too, are surely more conveniently paid in moderate annual installments than as a heavy tax of equal value at the house's initial construction or sale.
Book V, Chapter II, 11
18th-century English
It was the well-known proposal of Sir Matthew Decker, that all commodities, even those of which the consumption is either immediate or speedy, should be taxed in this manner; the dealer advancing nothing, but the consumer paying a certain annual sum for the licence to consume certain goods. The object of his scheme was to promote all the different branches of foreign trade, particularly the carrying trade, by taking away all duties upon importation and exportation, and thereby enabling the merchant to employ his whole capital and credit in the purchase of goods and the freight of ships, no part of either being diverted towards the advancing of taxes, The project, however, of taxing, in this manner, goods of immediate or speedy consumption, seems liable to the four following very important objections. First, the tax would be more unequal, or not so well proportioned to the expense and consumption of the different contributors, as in the way in which it is commonly imposed. The taxes upon ale, wine, and spiritous liquors, which are advanced by the dealers, are finally paid by the different consumers, exactly in proportion to their respective consumption. But if the tax were to be paid by purchasing a licence to drink those liquors, the sober would, in proportion to his consumption, be taxed much more heavily than the drunken consumer. A family which exercised great hospitality, would be taxed much more lightly than one who entertained fewer guests. Secondly, this mode of taxation, by paying for an annual, half-yearly, or quarterly licence to consume certain goods, would diminish very much one of the principal conveniences of taxes upon goods of speedy consumption; the piece-meal payment. In the price of threepence halfpenny, which is at present paid for a pot of porter, the different taxes upon malt, hops, and beer, together with the extraordinary profit which the brewer charges for having advanced than, may perhaps amount to about three halfpence. If a workman can conveniently spare those three halfpence, he buys a pot of porter. If he cannot, he contents himself with a pint; and, as a penny saved is a penny got, he thus gains a farthing by his temperance. He pays the tax piece-meal, as he can afford to pay it, and when he can afford to pay it, and every act of payment is perfectly voluntary, and what he can avoid if he chuses to do so. Thirdly, such taxes would operate less as sumptuary laws. When the licence was once purchased, whether the purchaser drunk much or drunk little, his tax would be the same. Fourthly, if a workman were to pay all at once, by yearly, half-yearly, or quarterly payments, a tax equal to what he at present pays, with little or no inconveniency, upon all the different pots and pints of porter which he drinks in any such period of time, the sum might frequently distress him very much. This mode of taxation, therefore, it seems evident, could never, without the most grievous oppression, produce a revenue nearly equal to what is derived from the present mode without any oppression. In several countries, however, commodities of an immediate or very speedy consumption are taxed in this manner. In Holland, people pay so much a-head for a licence to drink tea. I have already mentioned a tax upon bread, which, so far as it is consumed in farm houses and country villages, is there levied in the same manner.
The duties of excise are imposed chiefly upon goods of home produce, destined for home consumption. They are imposed only upon a few sorts of goods of the most general use. There can never be any doubt, either concerning the goods which are subject to those duties, or concerning the particular duty which each species of goods is subject to. They fall almost altogether upon what I call luxuries, excepting always the four duties above mentioned, upon salt, soap, leather, candles, and perhaps that upon green glass.
The duties of customs are much more ancient than those of excise. They seem to have been called customs, as denoting customary payments, which had been in use for time immemorial. They appear to have been originally considered as taxes upon the profits of merchants. During the barbarous times of feudal anarchy, merchants, like all the other inhabitants of burghs, were considered as little better than emancipated bondmen, whose persons were despised, and whose gains were envied. The great nobility, who had consented that the king should tallage the profits of their own tenants, were not unwilling that he should tallage likewise those of an order of men whom it was much less their interest to protect. In those ignorant times, it was not understood, that the profits of merchants are a subject not taxable directly; or that the final payment of all such taxes must fall, with a considerable overcharge, upon the consumers.
The gains of alien merchants were looked upon more unfavourably than those of English merchants. It was natural, therefore, that those of the former should be taxed more heavily than those of the latter. This distinction between the duties upon aliens and those upon English merchants, which was begun from ignorance, has been continued front the spirit of monopoly, or in order to give our own merchants an advantage, both in the home and in the foreign market.
With this distinction, the ancient duties of customs were imposed equally upon all sorts of goods, necessaries as well its luxuries, goods exported as well as goods imported. Why should the dealers in one sort of goods, it seems to have been thought, be more favoured than those in another? or why should the merchant exporter be more favoured than the merchant importer?
The ancient customs were divided into three branches. The first, and, perhaps, the most ancient of all those duties, was that upon wool and leather. It seems to have been chiefly or altogether an exportation duty. When the woollen manufacture came to be established in England, lest the king should lose any part of his customs upon wool by the exportation of woollen cloths, a like duty was imposed upon them. The other two branches were, first, a duty upon wine, which being imposed at so much a-ton, was called a tonnage; and, secondly, a duty upon all other goods, which being imposed at so much a-pound of their supposed value, was called a poundage. In the forty-seventh year of Edward III., a duty of sixpence in the pound was imposed upon all goods exported and imported, except wools, wool-felts, leather, and wines which were subject to particular duties. In the fourteenth of Richard II., this duty was raised to one shilling in the pound; but, three years afterwards, it was again reduced to sixpence. It was raised to eightpence in the second year of Henry IV.; and, in the fourth of the same prince, to one shilling. From this time to the ninth year of William III., this duty continued at one shilling in the pound. The duties of tonnage and poundage were generally granted to the king by one and the same act of parliament, and were called the subsidy of tonnage and poundage. The subsidy of poundage having continued for so long a time at one shilling in the pound, or at five per cent., a subsidy came, in the language of the customs, to denote a general duty of this kind of five per cent. This subsidy, which is now called the old subsidy, still continues to be levied, according to the book of rates established by the twelfth of Charles II. The method of ascertaining, by a book of rates, the value of goods subject to this duty, is said to be older than the time of James I. The new subsidy, imposed by the ninth and tenth of William III., was an additional five per cent. upon the greater part of goods. The one-third and the two-third subsidy made up between them another five per cent. of which they were proportionable parts. The subsidy of 1747 made a fourth five per cent. upon the greater part of goods; and that of 1759, a fifth upon some particular sorts of goods. Besides those five subsidies, a great variety of other duties have occasionally been imposed upon particular sorts of goods, in order sometimes to relieve the exigencies of the state, and sometimes to regulate the trade of the country, according to the principles of the mercantile system.
That system has come gradually more and more into fashion. The old subsidy was imposed indifferently upon exportation, as well as importation. The four subsequent subsidies, as well as the other duties which have since been occasionally imposed upon particular sorts of goods, have, with a few exceptions, been laid altogether upon importation. The greater part of the ancient duties which had been imposed upon the exportation of the goods of home produce and manufacture, have either been lightened or taken away altogether. In most cases, they have been taken away. Bounties have even been given upon the exportation of some of them. Drawbacks, too, sometimes of the whole, and, in most cases, of a part of the duties which are paid upon the importation of foreign goods, have been granted upon their exportation. Only half the duties imposed by the old subsidy upon importation, are drawn back upon exportation; but the whole of those imposed by the latter subsidies and other imposts are, upon the greater parts of the goods, drawn back in the same manner. This growing favour of exportation, and discouragement of importation, have suffered only a few exceptions, which chiefly concern the materials of some manufactures. These our merchants and manufacturers are willing should come as cheap as possible to themselves, and as dear as possible to their rivals and competitors in other countries. Foreign materials are, upon this account, sometimes allowed to be imported duty-free; spanish wool, for example, flax, and raw linen yarn. The exportation of the materials of home produce, and of those which are the particular produce of our colonies, has sometimes been prohibited, and sometimes subjected to higher duties. The exportation of English wool has been prohibited. That of beaver skins, of beaver wool, and of gum-senega, has been subjected to higher duties; Great Britain, by the conquests of Canada and Senegal, having got almost the monopoly of those commodities.
That the mercantile system has not been very favourable to the revenue of the great body of the people, to the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, I have endeavoured to show in the fourth book of this Inquiry. It seems not to have been more favourable to the revenue of the sovereign; so far, at least, as that revenue depends upon the duties of customs.
In consequence of that system, the importation of several sorts of goods has been prohibited altogether. This prohibition has, in some cases, entirely prevented, and in others has very much diminished, the importation of those commodities, by reducing the importers to the necessity of smuggling. It has entirely prevented the importation of foreign wollens; and it has very much diminished that of foreign silks and velvets, In both cases, it has entirely annihilated the revenue of customs which might have been levied upon such importation.
The high duties which have been imposed upon the importation of many different sorts of foreign goods in order to discourage their consumption in Great Britain, have, in many cases, served only to encourage smuggling, and, in all cases, have reduced the revenues of the customs below what more moderate duties would have afforded. The saying of Dr Swift, that in the arithmetic of the customs, two and two, instead of making four, make sometimes only one, holds perfectly true with regard to such heavy duties, which never could have been imposed, had not the mercantile system taught us, in many cases, to employ taxation as an instrument, not of revenue, but of monopoly.
The bounties which are sometimes given upon the exportation of home produce and manufactures, and the drawbacks which are paid upon the re-exportation of the greater part of foreign goods, have given occasion to many frauds, and to a species of smuggling, more destructive of the public revenue than any other. In order to obtain the bounty or drawback, the goods, it is well known, are sometimes shipped, and sent to sea, but soon afterwards clandestinely re-landed in some other part of the country. The defalcation of the revenue of customs occasioned by bounties and drawbacks, of which a great part are obtained fraudulently, is very great. The gross produce of the customs, in the year which ended on the 5th of January 1755, amounted to £5,068,000. The bounties which were paid out of this revenue, though in that year there was no bounty upon corn, amounted to £167,806. The drawbacks which were paid upon debentures and certificates, to £2,156,800. Bounties and drawbacks together amounted to £2,324,600. In consequence of these deductions, the revenue of the customs amounted only to £2,743,400; from which deducting £287,900 for the expense of management, in salaries and other incidents, the neat revenue of the customs for that year comes out to be £2,455,500. The expense of management, amounts, in this manner, to between five and six per cent. upon the gross revenue of the customs; and to something more than ten per cent. upon what remains of that revenue, after deducting what is paid away in bounties and drawbacks.
Heavy duties being imposed upon almost all goods imported, our merchant importers smuggle as much, and make entry of as little as they can. Our merchant exporters, on the contrary, make entry of more than they export; sometimes out of vanity, and to pass for great dealers in goods which pay no duty gain a bounty back. Our exports, in consequence of these different frauds, appear upon the custom-house books greatly to overbalance our imports, to the unspeakable comfort of those politicians, who measure the national prosperity by what they call the balance of trade.
All goods imported, unless particularly exempted, and such exemptions are not very numerous, are liable to some duties of customs. If any goods are imported, not mentioned in the book of rates, they are taxed at 4s:9¾d. for every twenty shillings value, according to the oath of the importer, that is, nearly at five subsidies, or five poundage duties. The book of rates is extremely comprehensive, and enumerates a great variety of articles, many of them little used, and, therefore, not well known. It is, upon this account, frequently uncertain under what article a particular sort of goods ought to be classed, and, consequently what duty they ought to pay. Mistakes with regard to this sometimes ruin the custom-house officer, and frequently occasion much trouble, expense, and vexation to the importer. In point of perspicuity, precision, and distinctness, therefore, the duties of customs are much inferior to those of excise.
In order that the greater part of the members of any society should contribute to the public revenue, in proportion to their respective expense, it does not seem necessary that every single article of that expense should be taxed. The revenue which is levied by the duties of excise is supposed to fall as equally upon the contributors as that which is levied by the duties of customs; and the duties of excise are imposed upon a few articles only of the most general used and consumption. It has been the opinion of many people, that, by proper management, the duties of customs might likewise, without any loss to the public revenue, and with great advantage to foreign trade, be confined to a few articles only.
English
Sir Matthew Decker famously proposed taxing all goods in this manner, even those consumed immediately or quickly: the dealer would advance nothing, while the consumer would pay a fixed annual sum for a license to consume particular goods. His aim was to encourage every branch of foreign trade, especially the carrying trade, by removing all import and export duties. Merchants could then devote all their capital and credit to buying goods and hiring ships, with none diverted to advancing taxes. The proposal to tax goods of immediate or rapid consumption in this way, however, seems open to four very serious objections. First, the tax would be less equal, less closely proportioned to each contributor's expense and consumption, than the customary method. Taxes on ale, wine, and spirituous liquors advanced by dealers are ultimately paid by consumers in exact proportion to their consumption. If the tax instead took the form of a license to drink these liquors, a sober drinker would pay much more relative to consumption than a drunken one. A family offering lavish hospitality would pay much less than one entertaining fewer guests. Second, an annual, half-yearly, or quarterly license to consume particular goods would largely eliminate one of the chief conveniences of taxes on rapidly consumed goods: paying them little by little. Of the threepence halfpenny now paid for a pot of porter, perhaps three halfpence represents the taxes on malt, hops, and beer, together with the extra profit charged by the brewer for advancing them. If a worker can comfortably spare those three halfpence, he buys a pot of porter. If he cannot, he is content with a pint; and, since a penny saved is a penny earned, his restraint gains him a farthing. He pays the tax in small portions, when and as he can afford it; each payment is entirely voluntary, and he can avoid it if he chooses. Third, such taxes would be less effective as sumptuary laws. Once the license was bought, the tax would be identical whether its owner drank much or little. Fourth, if a worker had to pay at once, in yearly, half-yearly, or quarterly installments, a tax equal to what he now pays with little or no inconvenience on all the pots and pints of porter he drinks during such a period, the sum would often put him under severe strain. It therefore seems clear that this form of taxation could never, without grievous oppression, produce nearly as much revenue as the present method produces without oppression. In several countries, nevertheless, goods consumed immediately or very quickly are taxed in this way. In Holland people pay a fixed per-head amount for a license to drink tea. I have already mentioned a tax on bread that is levied in the same manner insofar as the bread is consumed in farmhouses and country villages.
Excise duties are chiefly imposed on goods produced at home for domestic consumption. They apply only to a few kinds of goods in the most general use. There can never be doubt about which goods are liable or what particular duty each kind bears. Apart from the four duties already mentioned on salt, soap, leather, and candles, and perhaps the duty on green glass, they fall almost wholly on what I call luxuries.
Customs duties are much older than excise duties. They seem to have been called customs because they were customary payments established since time immemorial. Originally, it appears, they were regarded as taxes on merchants' profits. In the barbarous age of feudal anarchy, merchants, like other inhabitants of boroughs, were considered little better than emancipated bondmen, despised for their persons and envied for their gains. The great nobles had agreed to let the king levy tallage on the profits of their own tenants and were not unwilling that he should similarly tax the profits of a class they had much less interest in protecting. In those unenlightened times people did not understand that merchants' profits cannot be taxed directly, or that the final burden of any such tax must fall, with a substantial surcharge, on consumers.
The gains of foreign merchants were regarded with even less favor than those of English merchants, and so it was natural that foreigners should be taxed more heavily. This distinction in the duties paid by foreign and English merchants, born of ignorance, has been maintained in the spirit of monopoly, to give our own merchants an advantage at home and abroad.
Subject to this distinction, the old customs duties applied equally to all kinds of goods: necessities and luxuries, exports and imports. Why, people seem to have reasoned, should dealers in one kind of goods be favored over those in another? Or exporters over importers?
The ancient customs comprised three branches. The first, perhaps the oldest duty of all, was on wool and leather. It appears to have been chiefly, if not entirely, an export duty. When woolen manufacturing became established in England, a similar duty was imposed on woolen cloth lest the king lose any customs revenue on wool exported in that form. Of the other two branches, the first was a duty on wine, called tonnage because it was charged by the ton; the second was a duty on all other goods, called poundage because it was charged by the pound of their estimated value. In the forty-seventh year of Edward III., a duty of sixpence in the pound was imposed on all imported and exported goods except wools, wool-felts, leather, and wines, which bore specific duties. In the fourteenth of Richard II., the duty rose to one shilling in the pound; three years later it fell again to sixpence. It rose to eightpence in the second year of Henry IV., and to one shilling in that prince's fourth year. From then until the ninth year of William III., it remained at one shilling in the pound. Parliament generally granted tonnage and poundage to the king in the same act, calling them the subsidy of tonnage and poundage. Because the poundage subsidy remained at one shilling in the pound, or five per cent., for so long, the word subsidy came to mean, in the language of customs, a general duty of this kind at five per cent. This subsidy, now called the old subsidy, is still collected according to the book of rates established in the twelfth of Charles II. The practice of using a book of rates to determine the value of goods subject to the duty is said to predate James I. The new subsidy, imposed in the ninth and tenth of William III., added five per cent. on most goods. The one-third and two-third subsidies together added another five per cent., of which they were the respective proportional parts. The subsidy of 1747 made a fourth five per cent. on most goods, and that of 1759 a fifth on certain kinds. Besides these five subsidies, many other duties have at times been imposed on particular goods, sometimes to meet the state's needs and sometimes to regulate national trade on the principles of the mercantile system.
That system has gradually become more fashionable. The old subsidy applied equally to exports and imports. With a few exceptions, all four later subsidies and the other duties subsequently imposed on particular goods have applied solely to imports. Most ancient duties on the export of goods produced and manufactured at home have been reduced or abolished; in most cases they have been abolished. Bounties have even been offered for exporting some of those goods. Drawbacks have also been granted when foreign goods are re-exported, sometimes refunding all and more often part of the duties paid on import. Only half of the import duties imposed by the old subsidy are refunded on export, but for most goods the whole of the duties imposed by later subsidies and other taxes are refunded. This increasing favor for exports and discouragement of imports has admitted only a few exceptions, chiefly for manufacturing materials. Our merchants and manufacturers want these materials to cost themselves as little as possible and their rivals in other countries as much as possible. Foreign materials, such as spanish wool, flax, and raw linen yarn, are therefore sometimes allowed in duty-free. Exports of materials produced at home, and of those peculiar to our colonies, have at times been forbidden and at times subjected to higher duties. The export of English wool has been forbidden; the export of beaver skins, beaver wool, and gum-senega has incurred higher duties, since Great Britain's conquests of Canada and Senegal gave it nearly a monopoly of these goods.
I have tried to show in the fourth book of this Inquiry that the mercantile system has not greatly favored the revenue of the people at large—the annual produce of the country's land and labor. Nor does it appear to have favored the sovereign's revenue, at least insofar as that revenue depends on customs duties.
Under this system, the import of several kinds of goods has been wholly forbidden. In some cases the prohibition has stopped their import entirely; in others it has greatly reduced it by leaving importers no choice but to smuggle. It has stopped the import of foreign woolens altogether and greatly diminished the import of foreign silks and velvets. In both cases it has entirely extinguished the customs revenue that might have been collected on those imports.
High duties imposed on many kinds of foreign goods to discourage their consumption in Great Britain have often merely encouraged smuggling; in every case they have reduced customs revenue below what more moderate duties would have yielded. Dr Swift's saying that in the arithmetic of customs two and two sometimes make only one instead of four holds perfectly true of such heavy duties. They could never have been imposed had the mercantile system not taught us, in many cases, to use taxation as an instrument of monopoly rather than revenue.
Bounties sometimes paid on exports of domestic produce and manufactures, and drawbacks paid when most foreign goods are re-exported, have given rise to many frauds and to a form of smuggling more destructive of public revenue than any other. To obtain the bounty or drawback, it is well known, goods are sometimes put aboard ship and sent to sea, only to be secretly landed again elsewhere in the country soon afterward. The loss to customs revenue from bounties and drawbacks, many of which are obtained fraudulently, is very great. In the year ending on the 5th of January 1755, gross customs receipts came to £5,068,000. Bounties paid out of this revenue amounted to £167,806, though there was no bounty on corn that year. Drawbacks paid on debentures and certificates came to £2,156,800. Together bounties and drawbacks amounted to £2,324,600. After those deductions customs revenue was only £2,743,400; deducting £287,900 for management expenses, including salaries and other incidentals, leaves net customs revenue of £2,455,500 for that year. Management expenses thus amount to between five and six per cent. of gross customs revenue, and to somewhat more than ten per cent. of what remains after payments of bounties and drawbacks.
Since almost every imported good bears a heavy duty, our importing merchants smuggle as much as possible and declare as little as possible. Exporting merchants, by contrast, declare more than they export, sometimes from vanity, to appear substantial dealers in goods on which no duty is payable, or to claim a bounty or drawback. As a result of these several frauds, the customs-house books show our exports greatly exceeding our imports, to the unspeakable comfort of politicians who measure national prosperity by what they call the balance of trade.
All imported goods, unless specifically exempted—and such exemptions are few—are liable to some customs duty. If goods not named in the book of rates are imported, they are taxed at 4s:9¾d. for every twenty shillings of value sworn to by the importer: nearly five subsidies, or five poundage duties. The book of rates is extremely extensive and lists many articles, some little used and consequently not well known. It is therefore often uncertain under which article a particular kind of goods belongs and, in consequence, what duty is due. Errors about this sometimes ruin the customs officer and often cause the importer considerable trouble, expense, and vexation. Customs duties are thus far inferior to excise duties in clarity, precision, and distinctness.
For most members of a society to contribute to public revenue in proportion to their expenses, it does not seem necessary to tax every single item of those expenses. Excise revenue is supposed to fall as equally on contributors as customs revenue, yet excise duties apply only to a few goods in the most general use and consumption. Many have held that with proper management customs duties too could be confined to a few articles, without loss of public revenue and with great benefit to foreign trade.
Book V, Chapter II, 12
18th-century English
The foreign articles, of the most general use and consumption in Great Britain, seem at present to consist chiefly in foreign wines and brandies; in some of the productions of America and the West Indies, sugar, rum, tobacco, cocoa-nuts, etc. and in some of those of the East Indies, tea, coffee, china-ware, spiceries of all kinds, several sorts of piece-goods, etc. These different articles afford, the greater part of the perhaps, at present, revenue which is drawn from the duties of customs. The taxes which at present subsist upon foreign manufactures, if you except those upon the few contained in the foregoing enumeration, have, the greater part of them, been imposed for the purpose, not of revenue, but of monopoly, or to give our own merchants an advantage in the home market. By removing all prohibitions, and by subjecting all foreign manufactures to such moderate taxes, as it was found from experience, afforded upon each article the greatest revenue to the public, our own workmen might still have a considerable advantage in the home market; and many articles, some of which at present afford no revenue to government, and others a very inconsiderable one, might afford a very great one.
High taxes, sometimes by diminishing the consumption of the taxed commodities, and sometimes by encouraging smuggling frequently afford a smaller revenue to government than what might be drawn from more moderate taxes.
When the diminution of revenue is the effect of the diminution of consumption, there can be but one remedy, and that is the lowering of the tax. When the diminution of revenue is the effect of the encouragement given to smuggling, it may, perhaps, be remedied in two ways; either by diminishing the temptation to smuggle, or by increasing the difficulty of smuggling. The temptation to smuggle can be diminished only by the lowering of the tax; and the difficulty of smuggling can be increased only by establishing that system of administration which is most proper for preventing it.
The excise laws, it appears, I believe, from experience, obstruct and embarrass the operations of the smuggler much more effectually than those of the customs. By introducing into the customs a system of administration as similar to that of the excise as the nature of the different duties will admit, the difficulty of smuggling might be very much increased. This alteration, it has been supposed by many people, might very easily be brought about.
The importer of commodities liable to any duties of customs, it has been said, might, at his option, be allowed either to carry them to his own private warehouse; or to lodge them in a warehouse, provided either at his own expense or at that of the public, but under the key of the custom-house officer, and never to be opened but in his presence. If the merchant carried them to his own private warehouse, the duties to be immediately paid, and never afterwards to be drawn back; and that warehouse to be at all times subject to the visit and examination of the custom-house officer, in order to ascertain how far the quantity contained in it corresponded with that for which the duty had been paid. If he carried them to the public warehouse, no duty to be paid till they were taken out for home consumption. If taken out for exportation, to be duty-free; proper security being always given that they should be so exported. The dealers in those particular commodities, either by wholesale or retail, to be at all times subject to the visit and examination of the custom-house officer; and to be obliged to justify, by proper certificates, the payment of the duty upon the whole quantity contained in their shops or warehouses. What are called the excise duties upon rum imported, are at present levied in this manner; and the same system of administration might, perhaps, be extended to all duties upon goods imported; provided always that those duties were, like the duties of excise, confined to a few sorts of goods of the most general use and consumption. If they were extended to almost all sorts of goods, as at present, public warehouses of sufficient extent could not easily be provided; and goods of a very delicate nature, or of which the preservation required much care and attention, could not safely be trusted by the merchant in any warehouse but his own.
If, by such a system of administration, smuggling to any considerable extent could be prevented, even under pretty high duties; and if every duty was occasionally either heightened or lowered according as it was most likely, either the one way or the other, to afford the greatest revenue to the state; taxation being always employed as an instrument of revenue, and never of monopoly; it seems not improbable that a revenue, at least equal to the present neat revenue of the customs, might be drawn from duties upon the importation of only a few sorts of goods of the most general use and consumption; and that the duties of customs might thus be brought to the same degree of simplicity, certainty, and precision, as those of excise. What the revenue at present loses by drawbacks upon the re-exportation of foreign goods, which are afterwards re-landed and consumed at home, would, under this system, be saved altogether. If to this saving, which would alone be very considerable, were added the abolition of all bounties upon the exportation of home produce; in all cases in which those bounties were not in reality drawbacks of some duties of excise which had before been advanced; it cannot well be doubted, but that the neat revenue of customs might, after an alteration of this kind, be fully equal to what it had ever been before.
If, by such a change of system, the public revenue suffered no loss, the trade and manufactures of the country would certainly gain a very considerable advantage. The trade in the commodities not taxed, by far the greatest number would be perfectly free, and might be carried on to and from all parts of the world with every possible advantage. Among those commodities would be comprehended all the necessaries of life, and all the materials of manufacture. So far as the free importation of the necessaries of life reduced their average money price in the home market, it would reduce the money price of labour, but without reducing in any respect its real recompence. The value of money is in proportion to the quantity of the necessaries of life which it will purchase. That of the necessaries of life is altogether independent of the quantity of money which can be had for them. The reduction in the money price of labour would necessarily be attended with a proportionable one in that of all home manufactures, which would thereby gain some advantage in all foreign markets. The price of some manufactures would be reduced, in a still greater proportion, by the free importation of the raw materials. If raw silk could be imported from China and Indostan, duty-free, the silk manufacturers in England could greatly undersell those of both France and Italy. There would be no occasion to prohibit the importation of foreign silks and velvets. The cheapness of their goods would secure to our own workmen, not only the possession of a home, but a very great command of the foreign market. Even the trade in the commodities taxed, would be carried on with much more advantage than at present. If those commodities were delivered out of the public warehouse for foreign exportation, being in this case exempted from all taxes, the trade in them would be perfectly free. The carrying trade, in all sorts of goods, would, under this system, enjoy every possible advantage. If these commodities were delivered out for home consumption, the importer not being obliged to advance the tax till he had an opportunity of selling his goods, either to some dealer, or to some consumer, he could always afford to sell them cheaper than if he had been obliged to advance it at the moment of importation. Under the same taxes, the foreign trade of consumption, even in the taxed commodities, might in this manner be carried on with much more advantage than it is at present.
It was the object of the famous excise scheme of Sir Robert Walpole, to establish, with regard to wine and tobacco, a system not very unlike that which is here proposed. But though the bill which was then brought into Parliament, comprehended those two commodities only, it was generally supposed to be meant as an introduction to a more extensive scheme of the same kind. Faction, combined with the interest of smuggling merchants, raised so violent, though so unjust a clamour, against that bill, that the minister thought proper to drop it; and, from a dread of exciting a clamour of the same kind, none of his successors have dared to resume the project.
The duties upon foreign luxuries, imported for home consumption, though they sometimes fall upon the poor, fall principally upon people of middling or more than middling fortune. Such are, for example, the duties upon foreign wines, upon coffee, chocolate, tea, sugar, etc.
The duties upon the cheaper luxuries of home produce, destined for home consumption, fall pretty equally upon people of all ranks, in proportion to their respective expense. The poor pay the duties upon malt, hops, beer, and ale, upon their own consumption; the rich, upon both their own consumption and that of their servants.
The whole consumption of the inferior ranks of people, or of those below the middling rank, it must be observed, is, in every country, much greater, not only in quantity, but in value, than that of the middling, and of those above the middling rank. The whole expense of the inferior is much greater titan that of the superior ranks. In the first place, almost the whole capital of every country is annually distributed among the inferior ranks of people, as the wages of productive labour. Secondly, a great part of the revenue, arising from both the rent of land and the profits of stock, is annually distributed among the same rank, in the wages and maintenance of menial servants, and other unproductive labourers. Thirdly, some part of the profits of stock belongs to the same rank, as a revenue arising from the employment of their small capitals. The amount of the profits annually made by small shopkeepers, tradesmen, and retailers of all kinds, is everywhere very considerable, and makes a very considerable portion of the annual produce. Fourthly and lastly, some part even of the rent of land belongs to the same rank; a considerable part to those who are somewhat below the middling rank, and a small part even to the lowest rank; common labourers sometimes possessing in property an acre or two of land. Though the expense of those inferior ranks of people, therefore, taking them individually, is very small, yet the whole mass of it, taking them collectively, amounts always to by much the largest portion of the whole expense of the society; what remains of the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, for the consumption of the superior ranks, being always much less, not only in quantity, but in value. The taxes upon expense, therefore, which fall chiefly upon that of the superior ranks of people, upon the smaller portion of the annual produce, are likely to be much less productive than either those which fall indifferently upon the expense of all ranks, or even those which fall chiefly upon that of the inferior ranks, than either those which fall indifferently upon the whole annual produce, or those which fall chiefly upon the larger portion of it. The excise upon the materials and manufacture of home-made fermented and spirituous liquors, is, accordingly, of all the different taxes upon expense, by far the most productive; and this branch of the excise falls very much, perhaps principally, upon the expense of the common people. In the year which ended on the 5th of July 1775, the gross produce of this branch of the excise amounted to £3,341,837:9:9.
It must always be remembered, however, that it is the luxuries, and not the necessary expense of the inferior ranks of people, that ought ever to be taxed. The final payment of any tax upon their necessary expense, would fall altogether upon the superior ranks of people; upon the smaller portion of the annual produce, and not upon the greater. Such a tax must, in all cases, either raise the wages of labour, or lessen the demand for it. It could not raise the wages of labour, without throwing the final payment of the tax upon the superior ranks of people. It could not lessen the demand for labour, without lessening the annual produce of the land and labour of the country, the fund upon which all taxes must be finally paid. Whatever might be the state to which a tax of this kind reduced the demand for labour, it must always raise wages higher than they otherwise would be in that state; and the final payment of this enhancement of wages must, in all cases, fall upon the superior ranks of people.
Fermented liquors brewed, and spiritous liquors distilled, not for sale, but for private use, are not in Great Britain liable to any duties of excise. This exemption, of which the object is to save private families from the odious visit and examination of the tax-gatherer, occasions the burden of those duties to fall frequently much lighter upon the rich than upon the poor. It is not, indeed, very common to distil for private use, though it is done sometimes. But in the country, many middling and almost all rich and great families, brew their own beer. Their strong beer, therefore, costs them eight shillings a-barrel less than it costs the common brewer, who must have his profit upon the tax, as well as upon all the other expense which he advances. Such families, therefore, must drink their beer at least nine or ten shillings a-barrel cheaper than any liquor of the same quality can be drank by the common people, to whom it is everywhere more convenient to buy their beer, by little and little, from the brewery or the ale-house. Malt, in the same manner, that is made for the use of a private family, is not liable to the visit or examination of the tax-gatherer but, in this case the family must compound at seven shillings and sixpence a-head for the tax. Seven shillings and sixpence are equal to the excise upon ten bushels of malt; a quantity fully equal to what all the different members of any sober family, men, women, and children, are, at an average, likely to consume. But in rich and great families, where country hospitality is much practised, the malt liquors consumed by the members of the family make but a small part of the consumption of the house. Either on account of this composition, however, or for other reasons, it is not near so common to malt as to brew for private use. It is difficult to imagine any equitable reason, why those who either brew or distil for private use should not be subject to a composition of the same kind.
A greater revenue than what is at present drawn from all the heavy taxes upon malt, beer, and ale, might be raised, it has frequently been said, by a much lighter tax upon malt; the opportunities of defrauding the revenue being much greater in a brewery than in a malt-house; and those who brew for private use being exempted from all duties or composition for duties, which is not the case with those who malt for private use.
English
The foreign goods most widely used and consumed in Great Britain today appear chiefly to be foreign wines and brandies; some products of America and the West Indies—sugar, rum, tobacco, cocoa-nuts, etc.—and some products of the East Indies—tea, coffee, china-ware, spices of every kind, several sorts of piece-goods, etc. These articles seem now to provide perhaps the greater part of customs revenue. Most of the current taxes on foreign manufactures, except on the few just listed, were imposed not to raise revenue but to secure a monopoly, giving our merchants an advantage in the home market. If every prohibition were removed and all foreign manufactures subjected to moderate taxes, set according to experience at the rate yielding the greatest public revenue from each article, our workers might still retain a substantial advantage at home. Many goods that now bring government no revenue, or very little, might then bring in a great deal.
High taxes frequently bring government less revenue than more moderate taxes would, sometimes by reducing consumption of the taxed goods, and sometimes by encouraging smuggling.
When reduced consumption causes the loss of revenue, there is only one remedy: lower the tax. When encouragement of smuggling causes it, there may be two remedies: reduce the temptation to smuggle or make smuggling more difficult. Only lowering the tax can reduce the temptation; only the introduction of the administrative system best suited to prevent smuggling can make it more difficult.
Experience shows, I believe, that excise laws obstruct and hamper smugglers far more effectively than customs laws do. Adopting for customs a system of administration as close to that of excise as the different duties permit could make smuggling much more difficult. Many people have supposed that this change could be made quite easily.
It has been proposed that importers of goods subject to customs duties should be free to place them either in their own private warehouses or in warehouses supplied at their own expense or at public expense, but kept under the customs officer's key and opened only in his presence. If an importer chose his own private warehouse, the duties would be paid immediately, with no subsequent drawback; the customs officer could inspect the warehouse at any time to determine whether its contents agreed with the quantity on which duty had been paid. If the importer chose the public warehouse, no duty would be paid until goods were removed for domestic consumption. Goods removed for export would be duty-free, provided proper security was always given that they would indeed be exported. Wholesale and retail dealers in these goods would likewise be subject at all times to the customs officer's inspection, and required to provide suitable certificates proving that duty had been paid on all goods in their shops or warehouses. What are called the excise duties on imported rum are already collected this way. The same administrative system might perhaps be extended to all duties on imports, provided those duties, like excise duties, were restricted to a few goods in the most general use and consumption. Were they to apply to nearly every kind of good, as they do now, sufficiently extensive public warehouses could not easily be supplied. Moreover, merchants could not safely entrust goods of a very delicate nature, or goods requiring much care for their preservation, to any warehouse but their own.
Suppose this administrative system could prevent smuggling on any considerable scale even with fairly high duties, and suppose every duty were raised or lowered from time to time, whichever promised the greatest revenue for the state: taxation would then always serve revenue, never monopoly. It seems quite possible that duties on the import of only a few widely used and consumed goods could bring in at least as much as the present net customs revenue. Customs duties could then attain the same degree of simplicity, certainty, and precision as excise duties. This system would save in full the revenue now lost through drawbacks on re-exported foreign goods subsequently landed again and consumed at home. That saving alone would be very substantial. Add to it the abolition of every bounty on the export of domestic produce except where the bounty actually refunds an excise duty previously advanced, and there can scarcely be any doubt that net customs revenue after such a change could fully equal its former level.
If the public revenue suffered no loss from this change, the nation's trade and manufactures would certainly gain a substantial advantage. Trade in untaxed goods, by far the most numerous, would be wholly free and could be carried on to and from every part of the world on the most favorable terms. These goods would include all the necessities of life and all manufacturing materials. Insofar as free imports of necessities reduced their average money price at home, they would reduce the money price of labor without reducing its real reward in any respect. The value of money depends on the quantity of necessities it can buy. The value of necessities is entirely independent of the quantity of money obtainable for them. A fall in the money price of labor would necessarily bring a proportional fall in the price of all domestic manufactures, giving them an advantage in every foreign market. Free imports of raw materials would reduce the price of some manufactures still further. If raw silk from China and Indostan could be imported duty-free, English silk manufacturers could greatly undersell those of both France and Italy. There would be no need to prohibit foreign silks and velvets. The cheapness of their goods would secure our workers not only the home market but also a very great share of foreign markets. Even trade in taxed goods would be conducted much more advantageously than at present. Goods removed from the public warehouse for foreign export would bear no taxes and could be traded with complete freedom. The carrying trade in every sort of good would enjoy every possible advantage under this system. If the goods were removed for domestic consumption, the importer would not need to advance the tax until he had a chance to sell them to a dealer or a consumer. He could therefore always sell them more cheaply than if he had to advance it upon importation. Even under the same taxes, the foreign trade in goods destined for domestic consumption could thus be conducted far more advantageously than it is now, including trade in the taxed goods.
Sir Robert Walpole's famous excise scheme aimed to establish for wine and tobacco a system much like the one proposed here. But although the bill introduced into Parliament covered only these two goods, people generally believed it was intended to prepare the way for a broader scheme of the same kind. Party faction joined forces with the interests of smuggling merchants to raise an outcry against the bill so fierce, though so unjust, that the minister saw fit to withdraw it. For fear of arousing a similar outcry, none of his successors has dared revive the proposal.
Duties on foreign luxuries imported for domestic consumption sometimes fall on the poor, but principally on people of middling or more than middling means. Such are, for example, duties on foreign wines, coffee, chocolate, tea, sugar, etc.
Duties on cheaper luxuries produced and consumed at home fall fairly equally on people of every rank in proportion to their expenses. The poor pay duties on malt, hops, beer, and ale consumed by themselves; the rich pay duties both on their own consumption and on that of their servants.
It must be observed that the total consumption of the lower ranks, those below the middle rank, is much greater in every country than that of the middle and upper ranks, not only in quantity but in value. The lower ranks' total expenditure is far greater than the upper ranks'. First, almost all the capital of every country is distributed annually among the lower ranks as wages for productive labor. Second, a large share of the revenue from both land rent and profits of stock is distributed each year among the same ranks as wages and maintenance for domestic servants and other unproductive laborers. Third, some profits of stock also belong to these ranks, as revenue from the use of their small capitals. The annual profits of small shopkeepers, tradesmen, and retailers of every kind are considerable everywhere, and constitute a substantial part of annual produce. Fourth and finally, even some land rent belongs to the same ranks: a considerable portion to people somewhat below the middle rank, and a small portion even to the lowest rank, since ordinary laborers sometimes own an acre or two of land. The expenses of individuals in the lower ranks may thus be very small, but taken together they always form by far the largest part of society's total expenditure. The share of the annual produce of a country's land and labor left for consumption by the upper ranks is always much smaller, both in quantity and in value. Taxes on spending that fall principally on the upper ranks, on the smaller share of annual produce, will therefore probably yield much less than taxes that fall equally on all ranks or principally on the lower ranks—just as taxes on the smaller share yield less than taxes that fall equally on the whole annual produce or principally on its larger share. Accordingly, of all taxes on spending, by far the most productive is the excise on the materials and manufacture of domestically made fermented and spirituous liquors. This branch of excise falls heavily, perhaps principally, on the spending of ordinary people. In the year ending on the 5th of July 1775, its gross yield was £3,341,837:9:9.
It must always be remembered, however, that only the luxuries, never the necessary expenses, of the lower ranks ought to be taxed. The final payment of any tax on their necessities would fall entirely on the upper ranks: on the smaller share of annual produce, not the larger. Such a tax must either raise wages or reduce the demand for labor. It could not raise wages without transferring its final cost to the upper ranks. It could not reduce the demand for labor without reducing the annual produce of the country's land and labor, the fund from which all taxes must ultimately be paid. Whatever level of demand for labor such a tax might produce, it must always leave wages higher than they would otherwise be at that level; the upper ranks must in every case bear the final cost of that higher wage.
In Great Britain, fermented liquors brewed and spirituous liquors distilled for private use rather than sale pay no excise duty. This exemption is meant to spare private families the odious inspection of the tax collector, but it frequently leaves the rich with a much lighter burden from these duties than the poor. Distilling for private use is indeed uncommon, though sometimes practiced. In the countryside, however, many middle-class and almost all wealthy and great families brew their own beer. Their strong beer therefore costs eight shillings a barrel less than it costs an ordinary brewer, who must make a profit on the tax as well as on every other expense he advances. Such families must therefore drink beer at least nine or ten shillings a barrel more cheaply than ordinary people can drink beer of the same quality; for ordinary people it is everywhere more convenient to buy their beer little by little from a brewery or alehouse. Malt made for a private family's use is likewise exempt from inspection by the tax collector, but the family must in this case settle the tax at seven shillings and sixpence per head. Seven shillings and sixpence equals the excise on ten bushels of malt, fully as much as all the members of any sober family—men, women, and children—are likely to consume on average. In rich and great families, however, where country hospitality is widely practiced, the family's own consumption of malt liquors forms only a small part of the household's total consumption. Whether because of this fixed payment or for other reasons, malting for private use is nowhere near as common as brewing for private use. It is hard to imagine any equitable reason why those who brew or distill for private use should not be subject to a similar fixed payment.
It has often been said that a much lighter tax on malt could raise more revenue than all the heavy taxes now imposed on malt, beer, and ale. Opportunities to defraud the revenue are much greater in a brewery than in a malt-house; and people who brew for private use are exempt from all duties or payments in their place, unlike those who malt for private use.
Book V, Chapter II, 13
18th-century English
In the porter brewery of London, a quarter of malt is commonly brewed into more than two barrels and a-half, sometimes into three barrels of porter. The different taxes upon malt amount to six shillings a-quarter; those upon strong ale and beer to eight shillings a-barrel. In the porter brewery, therefore, the different taxes upon malt, beer, and ale, amount to between twenty-six and thirty shillings upon the produce of a quarter of malt. In the country brewery for common country sale, a quarter of malt is seldom brewed into less than two barrels of strong, and one barrel of small beer; frequently into two barrels and a-half of strong beer. The different taxes upon small beer amount to one shilling and fourpence a-barrel. In the country brewery, therefore, the different taxes upon malt, beer, and ale, seldom amount to less than twenty-three shillings and fourpence, frequently to twenty-six shillings, upon the produce of a quarter of malt. Taking the whole kingdom at an average, therefore, the whole amount of the duties upon malt, beer, and ale, cannot be estimated at less than twenty-four or twenty-five shillings upon the produce of a quarter of malt. But by taking off all the different duties upon beer and ale, and by trebling the malt tax, or by raising it from six to eighteen shillings upon the quarter of malt, a greater revenue, it is said, might be raised by this single tax, than what is at present drawn from all those heavier taxes.
In 1772, the old malt tax produced......... £722,023: 11: 11 The additional... £356,776: 7: 9¾ In 1773, the old tax produced............... £561,627: 3: 7½ The additional... £278,650: 15: 3¾ In 1774, the old tax produced............. £624,614: 17: 5¾ The additional....£310,745: 2: 8½ In 1775, the old tax produced..............£657,357: 0: 8¼ The additional....£323,785: 12: 6¼ 4)£3,835,580: 12: 0¾ Average of these four years............... £958,895: 3: 0
In 1772, the country excise produced.......£1,243,120: 5: 3 The London brewery 408,260: 7: 2¾ In 1773, the country excise................£1,245,808: 3: 3 The London brewery 405,406: 17: 10½ In 1774, the country excise................£1,246,373: 14: 5½ The London brewery 320,601: 18: 0¼ In 1775, the country excise................£1,214,583: 6: 1¼ The London brewery 463,670: 7: 0¼ 4)£6,547,832 19: 2¼ Average of these four years...............£1,636,958: 4: 9½ To which adding the average malt tax........ 958,895: 3: 0¼
The whole amount of those different taxes comes out to be........£2,595,835: 7: 10
But, by trebling the malt tax, or by raising it from six to eighteen shillings upon the quarter of malt, that single tax would produce.....£2,876,685: 9: 0 A sum which exceeds the foregoing by.... 280,832: 1: 3
Under the old malt tax, indeed, is comprehended a tax of four shillings upon the hogshead of cyder, and another of ten shillings upon the barrel of mum. In 1774, the tax upon cyder produced only £3,083:6:8. It probably fell somewhat short of its usual amount; all the different taxes upon cyder, having, that year, produced less than ordinary. The tax upon mum, though much heavier, is still less productive, on account of the smaller consumption of that liquor. But to balance whatever may be the ordinary amount of those two taxes, there is comprehended under what is called the country excise, first, the old excise of six shillings and eightpence upon the hogshead of cyder; secondly, a like tax of six shillings and eightpence upon the hogshead of verjuice; thirdly, another of eight shillings and ninepence upon the hogshead of vinegar; and, lastly, a fourth tax of elevenpence upon the gallon of mead or metheglin. The produce of those different taxes will probably much more than counterbalance that of the duties imposed, by what is called the annual malt tax, upon cyder and mum.
Malt is consumed, not only in the brewery of beer and ale, but in the manufacture of low wines and spirits. If the malt tax were to be raised to eighteen shillings upon the quarter, it might be necessary to make some abatement in the different excises which are imposed upon those particular sorts of low wines and spirits, of which malt makes any part of the materials. In what are called malt spirits, it makes commonly but a third part of the materials; the other two-thirds being either raw barley, or one-third barley and one-third wheat. In the distillery of malt spirits, both the opportunity and the temptation to smuggle are much greater than either in a brewery or in a malt-house; the opportunity, on account of the smaller bulk and greater value of the commodity, and the temptation, on account of the superior height of the duties, which amounted to 3s. 10 ⅔d. upon the gallon of spirits. {Though the duties directly imposed upon proof spirits amount only to 2s. 6d per gallon, these, added to the duties upon the low wines, from which they are distilled, amount to 3s 10 ⅔d. Both low wines and proof spirits are, to prevent frauds, now rated according to what they gauge in the wash.}
By increasing the duties upon malt, and reducing those upon the distillery, both the opportunities and the temptation to smuggle would be diminished, which might occasion a still further augmentation of revenue.
It has for some time past been the policy of Great Britain to discourage the consumption of spiritous liquors, on account of their supposed tendency to ruin the health and to corrupt the morals of the common people. According to this policy, the abatement of the taxes upon the distillery ought not to be so great as to reduce, in any respect, the price of those liquors. Spiritous liquors might remain as dear as ever; while, at the same time, the wholesome and invigorating liquors of beer and ale might be considerably reduced in their price. The people might thus be in part relieved from one of the burdens of which they at present complain the most; while, at the same time, the revenue might be considerably augmented.
The objections of Dr Davenant to this alteration in the present system of excise duties, seem to be without foundation. Those objections are, that the tax, instead of dividing itself, as at present, pretty equally upon the profit of the maltster, upon that of the brewer and upon that of the retailer, would so far as it affected profit, fall altogether upon that of the maltster; that the maltster could not so easily get back the amount of the tax in the advanced price of his malt, as the brewer and retailer in the advanced price of their liquor; and that so heavy a tax upon malt might reduce the rent and profit of barley land.
No tax can ever reduce, for any considerable time, the rate of profit in any particular trade, which must always keep its level with other trades in the neighbourhood. The present duties upon malt, beer, and ale, do not affect the profits of the dealers in those commodities, who all get back the tax with an additional profit, in the enhanced price of their goods. A tax, indeed, may render the goods upon which it is imposed so dear, as to diminish the consumption of them. But the consumption of malt is in malt liquors; and a tax of eighteen shillings upon the quarter of malt could not well render those liquors dearer than the different taxes, amounting to twenty-four or twenty-five shillings, do at present. Those liquors, on the contrary, would probably become cheaper, and the consumption of them would be more likely to increase than to diminish.
It is not very easy to understand why it should be more difficult for the maltster to get back eighteen shillings in the advanced price of his malt, than it is at present for the brewer to get back twenty-four or twenty-five, sometimes thirty shillings, in that of his liquor. The maltster, indeed, instead of a tax of six shillings, would be obliged to advance one of eighteen shilling upon every quarter of malt. But the brewer is at present obliged to advance a tax of twenty-four or twenty-five, sometimes thirty shillings, upon every quarter of malt which he brews. It could not be more inconvenient for the maltster to advance a lighter tax, than it is at present for the brewer to advance a heavier one. The maltster does not always keep in his granaries a stock of malt, which it will require a longer time to dispose of than the stock of beer and ale which the brewer frequently keeps in his cellars. The former, therefore, may frequently get the returns of his money as soon as the latter. But whatever inconveniency might arise to the maltster from being obliged to advance a heavier tax, it could easily be remedied, by granting him a few months longer credit than is at present commonly given to the brewer.
Nothing could reduce the rent and profit of barley land, which did not reduce the demand for barley. But a change of system, which reduced the duties upon a quarter of malt brewed into beer and ale, from twenty-four and twenty-five shillings to eighteen shillings, would be more likely to increase than diminish that demand. The rent and profit of barley land, besides, must always be nearly equal to those of other equally fertile and equally well cultivated land. If they were less, some part of the barley land would soon be turned to some other purpose; and if they were greater, more land would soon be turned to the raising of barley. When the ordinary price of any particular produce of land is at what may be called a monopoly price, a tax upon it necessarily reduces the rent and profit of the land which grows it. A tax upon the produce of those precious vineyards, of which the wine falls so much short of the effectual demand, that its price is always above the natural proportion to that of the produce of other equally fertile and equally well cultivated land, would necessarily reduce the rent and profit of those vineyards. The price of the wines being already the highest that could be got for the quantity commonly sent to market, it could not be raised higher without diminishing that quantity; and the quantity could not be diminished without still greater loss, because the lands could not be turned to any other equally valuable produce. The whole weight of the tax, therefore, would fall upon the rent and profit; properly upon the rent of the vineyard. When it has been proposed to lay any new tax upon sugar, our sugar planters have frequently complained that the whole weight of such taxes fell not upon the consumer, but upon the producer; they never having been able to raise the price of their sugar after the tax higher than it was before. The price had, it seems, before the tax, been a monopoly price; and the arguments adduced to show that sugar was an improper subject of taxation, demonstrated perhaps that it was a proper one; the gains of monopolists, whenever they can be come at, being certainly of all subjects the most proper. But the ordinary price of barley has never been a monopoly price; and the rent and profit of barley land have never been above their natural proportion to those of other equally fertile and equally well cultivated land. The different taxes which have been imposed upon malt, beer, and ale, have never lowered the price of barley; have never reduced the rent and profit of barley land. The price of malt to the brewer has constantly risen in proportion to the taxes imposed upon it; and those taxes, together with the different duties upon beer and ale, have constantly either raised the price, or, what comes to the same thing, reduced the quality of those commodities to the consumer. The final payment of those taxes has fallen constantly upon the consumer, and not upon the producer.
The only people likely to suffer by the change of system here proposed, are those who brew for their own private use. But the exemption, which this superior rank of people at present enjoy, from very heavy taxes which are paid by the poor labourer and artificer, is surely most unjust and unequal, and ought to be taken away, even though this change was never to take place. It has probably been the interest of this superior order of people, however, which has hitherto prevented a change of system that could not well fail both to increase the revenue and to relieve the people.
Besides such duties as those of custom and excise above mentioned, there are several others which affect the price of goods more unequally and more indirectly. Of this kind are the duties, which, in French, are called peages, which in old Saxon times were called the duties of passage, and which seem to have been originally established for the same purpose as our turnpike tolls, or the tolls upon our canals and navigable rivers, for the maintenance of the road or of the navigation. Those duties, when applied to such purposes, are most properly imposed according to the bulk or weight of the goods. As they were originally local and provincial duties, applicable to local and provincial purposes, the administration of them was, in most cases, entrusted to the particular town, parish, or lordship, in which they were levied; such communities being, in some way or other, supposed to be accountable for the application. The sovereign, who is altogether unaccountable, has in many countries assumed to himself the administration of those duties; and though he has in most cases enhanced very much the duty, he has in many entirely neglected the application. If the turnpike tolls of Great Britain should ever become one of the resources of government, we may learn, by the example of many other nations, what would probably be the consequence. Such tolls, no doubt, are finally paid by the consumer; but the consumer is not taxed in proportion to his expense, when he pays, not according to the value, but according to the bulk or weight of what he consumes. When such duties are imposed, not according to the bulk or weight, but according to the supposed value of the goods, they become properly a sort of inland customs or excise, which obstruct very much the most important of all branches of commerce, the interior commerce of the country.
In some small states, duties similar to those passage duties are imposed upon goods carried across the territory, either by land or by water, from one foreign country to another. These are in some countries called transit-duties. Some of the little Italian states which are situated upon the Po, and the rivers which run into it, derive some revenue from duties of this kind, which are paid altogether by foreigners, and which, perhaps, are the only duties that one state can impose upon the subjects of another, without obstruction in any respect, the industry or commerce of its own. The most important transit-duty in the world, is that levied by the king of Denmark upon all merchant ships which pass through the Sound.
English
In London's porter breweries, a quarter of malt commonly yields more than two and a half barrels, sometimes three barrels, of porter. The several taxes on malt amount to six shillings per quarter; those on strong ale and beer to eight shillings per barrel. In porter brewing, then, the several taxes on malt, beer, and ale amount to between twenty-six and thirty shillings on the product of a quarter of malt. In country breweries supplying the ordinary country market, a quarter of malt seldom yields less than two barrels of strong beer and one barrel of small beer; it frequently yields two and a half barrels of strong beer. The several taxes on small beer amount to one shilling and fourpence per barrel. In country brewing, then, the several taxes on malt, beer, and ale seldom amount to less than twenty-three shillings and fourpence, and frequently amount to twenty-six shillings, on the product of a quarter of malt. Across the kingdom, therefore, the total duties on malt, beer, and ale cannot be estimated at less than twenty-four or twenty-five shillings on the product of a quarter of malt. Yet by abolishing all the separate duties on beer and ale and tripling the malt tax, raising it from six to eighteen shillings per quarter, this single tax, it is said, might yield more revenue than all those heavier taxes now yield together.
In 1772, the old malt tax produced £722,023: 11: 11; the additional tax, £356,776: 7: 9¾. In 1773, the old tax produced £561,627: 3: 7½; the additional tax, £278,650: 15: 3¾. In 1774, the old tax produced £624,614: 17: 5¾; the additional tax, £310,745: 2: 8½. In 1775, the old tax produced £657,357: 0: 8¼; the additional tax, £323,785: 12: 6¼. Total for four years: £3,835,580: 12: 0¾. Average of these four years: £958,895: 3: 0.
In 1772, the country excise produced £1,243,120: 5: 3; the London brewery, 408,260: 7: 2¾. In 1773, the country excise produced £1,245,808: 3: 3; the London brewery, 405,406: 17: 10½. In 1774, the country excise produced £1,246,373: 14: 5½; the London brewery, 320,601: 18: 0¼. In 1775, the country excise produced £1,214,583: 6: 1¼; the London brewery, 463,670: 7: 0¼. Total for four years: £6,547,832 19: 2¼. Average of these four years: £1,636,958: 4: 9½. Add the average malt tax: 958,895: 3: 0¼.
The total of these several taxes comes to £2,595,835: 7: 10.
But by tripling the malt tax, raising it from six to eighteen shillings per quarter of malt, that tax alone would yield £2,876,685: 9: 0—a sum exceeding the preceding one by 280,832: 1: 3.
The old malt tax, it is true, includes a tax of four shillings per hogshead of cider and another of ten shillings per barrel of mum. In 1774 the cider tax produced only £3,083:6:8. This was probably somewhat below its usual yield, since all the different cider taxes brought in less than usual that year. The tax on mum, though much heavier, yields even less because less of that liquor is consumed. But, to offset whatever those two taxes ordinarily yield, the so-called country excise includes, first, the old excise of six shillings and eightpence per hogshead of cider; second, a similar tax of six shillings and eightpence per hogshead of verjuice; third, one of eight shillings and ninepence per hogshead of vinegar; and, finally, a fourth tax of elevenpence per gallon of mead or metheglin. The yield of these several taxes will probably much more than offset the duties imposed on cider and mum under what is called the annual malt tax.
Malt is used not only to brew beer and ale but also to make low wines and spirits. If the malt tax rose to eighteen shillings per quarter, it might be necessary to reduce some of the excise duties imposed on those particular kinds of low wines and spirits whose ingredients include malt. In so-called malt spirits, malt commonly makes up only a third of the ingredients; the other two-thirds are either raw barley or one-third barley and one-third wheat. In distilling malt spirits, both the opportunity and the temptation to smuggle are much greater than in either a brewery or a malthouse: the opportunity because the commodity is less bulky and more valuable, and the temptation because the duties are higher, amounting to 3s. 10 ⅔d. per gallon of spirits. [Although the duties directly imposed on proof spirits amount to only 2s. 6d per gallon, these, added to the duties on the low wines from which they are distilled, amount to 3s 10 ⅔d. To prevent fraud, both low wines and proof spirits are now assessed according to their measured yield in the wash.]
By raising the duties on malt and lowering those on distilling, both the opportunities and the temptation to smuggle would diminish, perhaps increasing revenue still further.
For some time Great Britain has pursued a policy of discouraging the consumption of spirituous liquors, because of their supposed tendency to ruin the health and corrupt the morals of ordinary people. Under this policy, taxes on distilling should not be reduced enough to lower the price of these liquors at all. Spirits could remain as expensive as ever, while the price of the wholesome and invigorating drinks, beer and ale, could fall considerably. The people could thus gain some relief from one of the burdens of which they now complain most, while revenue could rise considerably.
Dr Davenant's objections to this change in the present system of excise duties seem groundless. He objects that, instead of being divided, as it now is, fairly evenly among the profits of the maltster, the brewer, and the retailer, the tax, to the extent that it affected profit, would fall entirely on the maltster's profit; that the maltster could not recover the tax as easily through a higher price for his malt as the brewer and retailer could through a higher price for their liquor; and that so heavy a tax on malt might lower the rent and profit of barley land.
No tax can lower the rate of profit in any particular trade for any considerable time: that rate must always remain level with those in neighboring trades. The present duties on malt, beer, and ale do not affect the profits of those who deal in these commodities. They all recover the tax, with an additional profit, through the higher price of their goods. A tax can, to be sure, make the goods on which it is imposed so expensive that their consumption declines. But malt is consumed in malt liquors; and a tax of eighteen shillings per quarter of malt could hardly make those liquors dearer than do the present several taxes amounting to twenty-four or twenty-five shillings. On the contrary, these liquors would probably become cheaper, and their consumption would be more likely to increase than decrease.
It is not easy to see why recovering eighteen shillings through a higher price for malt should be harder for the maltster than recovering twenty-four or twenty-five, sometimes thirty, shillings through a higher price for liquor is now for the brewer. The maltster, admittedly, would have to advance a tax of eighteen rather than six shillings on each quarter of malt. But the brewer must now advance twenty-four or twenty-five, sometimes thirty, shillings on each quarter of malt he brews. Advancing the lighter tax could not be more inconvenient for the maltster than advancing the heavier one is now for the brewer. Nor does the maltster always keep in his granaries a stock of malt that takes longer to sell than the stock of beer and ale the brewer often keeps in his cellars. The former may therefore often recover his money as soon as the latter. Whatever inconvenience the maltster might suffer from having to advance a heavier tax could easily be remedied by granting him a few months more credit than is now commonly granted to the brewer.
Nothing could lower the rent and profit of barley land unless it lowered the demand for barley. But a reform that reduced the duties on a quarter of malt brewed into beer and ale from twenty-four or twenty-five shillings to eighteen would be more likely to increase that demand than to diminish it. Besides, the rent and profit of barley land must always be nearly equal to those of other land equally fertile and equally well cultivated. If they were lower, some barley land would soon be put to another use; if higher, more land would soon be used to grow barley. When the ordinary price of a particular product of the land is what may be called a monopoly price, a tax on that product necessarily lowers the rent and profit of the land that produces it. Consider the precious vineyards whose wine falls so far short of effective demand that its price always exceeds its natural proportion to the price of the produce of other equally fertile and equally well-cultivated land. A tax on their wine would necessarily lower their rent and profit. The price of the wine is already the highest obtainable for the quantity ordinarily sent to market. It could not rise further without reducing that quantity, and that quantity could not be reduced without even greater loss, since the land could not be turned to any other equally valuable product. The whole burden of the tax would therefore fall on rent and profit, or, more precisely, on the vineyard's rent. When a new tax on sugar has been proposed, our sugar planters have frequently complained that its entire burden fell not on consumers but on producers: after the tax, they have never been able to raise their sugar's price above its former level. The price before the tax was, it seems, a monopoly price. Their arguments for sugar's unsuitability as an object of taxation perhaps proved precisely its suitability; the gains of monopolists, whenever they can be reached, are surely the most suitable objects of all. But the ordinary price of barley has never been a monopoly price, and the rent and profit of barley land have never stood above their natural proportion to those of other equally fertile and equally well-cultivated land. The various taxes imposed on malt, beer, and ale have never lowered the price of barley or the rent and profit of barley land. The price of malt to the brewer has consistently risen in proportion to the taxes imposed on it. Those taxes, together with the several duties on beer and ale, have consistently either raised the price of those drinks to the consumer or, what amounts to the same thing, lowered their quality. The final burden of these taxes has always fallen on the consumer, not the producer.
The only people likely to suffer under this proposed reform are those who brew for their own private use. But the exemption this higher rank of people now enjoys from very heavy taxes paid by the poor laborer and artisan is surely most unjust and unequal. It ought to be removed even if this reform were never adopted. Yet it is probably the interests of this higher order that have so far prevented a reform that could hardly fail both to increase revenue and to relieve the people.
Besides the customs and excise duties already mentioned, there are several others that affect the prices of goods more unevenly and indirectly. Among these are the duties called péages in French, called duties of passage in old Saxon times, and apparently first established for the same purpose as our turnpike tolls or tolls on canals and navigable rivers: maintaining the road or waterway. When used for such purposes, they are most properly charged by the bulk or weight of the goods. Since they were originally local and provincial duties serving local and provincial purposes, their administration was usually entrusted to the particular town, parish, or lordship in which they were collected, on the assumption that these communities would in some way be accountable for their use. In many countries the sovereign, who is not accountable at all, has taken over the administration of these duties. Though he has usually raised the duty considerably, in many cases he has entirely neglected its purpose. If Great Britain's turnpike tolls ever become a source of government revenue, the example of many other nations can teach us the probable consequence. Such tolls are undoubtedly paid in the end by consumers; but a consumer paying by the bulk or weight of what he consumes, rather than by its value, is not taxed in proportion to his expenditure. If these duties are charged according to the supposed value of goods instead of their bulk or weight, they become, in effect, a kind of inland customs or excise, gravely obstructing the most important branch of commerce: the country's internal commerce.
In some small states, duties resembling these passage duties are imposed on goods transported by land or water across their territory from one foreign country to another. In some countries they are called transit duties. Some of the little Italian states along the Po and its tributaries derive revenue from duties of this kind, paid entirely by foreigners. These are perhaps the only duties one state can impose on the subjects of another without obstructing its own industry or commerce in any way. The world's most important transit duty is the one levied by the king of Denmark on all merchant ships passing through the Sound.
Book V, Chapter II, 14
18th-century English
Such taxes upon luxuries, as the greater part of the duties of customs and excise, though they all fall indifferently upon every different species of revenue, and are paid finally, or without any retribution, by whoever consumes the commodities upon which they are imposed; yet they do not always fall equally or proportionally upon the revenue of every individual. As every man’s humour regulates the degree of his consumption, every man contributes rather according to his humour, than proportion to his revenue: the profuse contribute more, the parsimonious less, than their proper proportion. During the minority of a man of great fortune, he contributes commonly very little, by his consumption, towards the support of that state from whose protection he derives a great revenue. Those who live in another country, contribute nothing by their consumption towards the support of the government of that country, in which is situated the source of their revenue. If in this latter country there should be no land tax, nor any considerable duty upon the transference either of moveable or immoveable property, as is the case in Ireland, such absentees may derive a great revenue from the protection of a government, to the support of which they do not contribute a single shilling. This inequality is likely to be greatest in a country of which the government is, in some respects, subordinate and dependant upon that of some other. The people who possess the most extensive property in the dependant, will, in this case, generally chuse to live in the governing country. Ireland is precisely in this situation; and we cannot therefore wonder, that the proposal of a tax upon absentees should be so very popular in that country. It might, perhaps, be a little difficult to ascertain either what sort, or what degree of absence, would subject a man to be taxed as an absentee, or at what precise time the tax should either begin or end. If you except, however, this very peculiar situation, any inequality in the contribution of individuals which can arise from such taxes, is much more than compensated by the very circumstance which occasions that inequality; the circumstance that every man’s contribution is altogether voluntary; it being altogether in his power, either to consume, or not to consume, the commodity taxed. Where such taxes, therefore, are properly assessed, and upon proper commodities, they are paid with less grumbling than any other. When they are advanced by the merchant or manufacturer, the consumer, who finally pays them, soon comes to confound them with the price of the commodities, and almost forgets that he pays any tax. Such taxes are, or may be, perfectly certain; or may be assessed, so as to leave no doubt concerning either what ought to be paid, or when it ought to be paid; concerning either the quantity or the time of payment. What ever uncertainty there may sometimes be, either in the duties of customs in Great Britain, or in other duties of the same kind in other countries, it cannot arise from the nature of those duties, but from the inaccurate or unskilful manner in which the law that imposes them is expressed.
Taxes upon luxuries generally are, and always may be, paid piece-meal, or in proportion as the contributors have occasion to purchase the goods upon which they are imposed. In the time and mode of payment, they are, or may be, of all taxes the most convenient. Upon the whole, such taxes, therefore, are perhaps as agreeable to the three first of the four general maxims concerning taxation, as any other. They offend in every respect against the fourth.
Such taxes, in proportion to what they bring into the public treasury of the state, always take out, or keep out, of the pockets of the people, more than almost any other taxes. They seem to do this in all the four different ways in which it is possible to do it.
First, the levying of such taxes, even when imposed in the most judicious manner, requires a great number of custom-house and excise officers, whose salaries and perquisites are a real tax upon the people, which brings nothing into the treasury of the state. This expense, however, it must be acknowledged, is more moderate in Great Britain than in most other countries. In the year which ended on the 5th of July, 1775, the gross produce of the different duties, under the management of the commissioners of excise in England, amounted to £5,507,308:18:8¼, which was levied at an expense of little more than five and a-half per cent. From this gross produce, however, there must be deducted what was paid away in bounties and drawbacks upon the exportation of exciseable goods, which will reduce the neat produce below five millions. {The neat produce of that year, after deducting all expenses and allowances, amounted to £4,975,652:19:6.} The levying of the salt duty, and excise duty, but under a different management, is much more expensive. The neat revenue of the customs does not amount to two millions and a-half, which is levied at an expense of more than ten per cent., in the salaries of officers and other incidents. But the perquisites of custom-house officers are everywhere much greater than their salaries; at some ports more than double or triple those salaries. If the salaries of officers, and other incidents, therefore, amount to more than ten per cent. upon the neat revenue of the customs, the whole expense of levying that revenue may amount, in salaries and perquisites together, to more than twenty or thirty per cent. The officers of excise receive few or no perquisites; and the administration of that branch of the revenue being of more recent establishment, is in general less corrupted than that of the customs, into which length of time has introduced and authorised many abuses. By charging upon malt the whole revenue which is at present levied by the different duties upon malt and malt liquors, a saving, it is supposed, of more than £50,000, might be made in the annual expense of the excise. By confining the duties of customs to a few sorts of goods, and by levying those duties according to the excise laws, a much greater saving might probably be made in the annual expense of the customs.
Secondly, such taxes necessarily occasion some obstruction or discouragement to certain branches of industry. As they always raise the price of the commodity taxed, they so far discourage its consumption, and consequently its production. If it is a commodity of home growth or manufacture, less labour comes to be employed in raising and producing it. If it is a foreign commodity of which the tax increases in this manner the price, the commodities of the same kind which are made at home may thereby, indeed, gain some advantage in the home market, and a greater quantity of domestic industry may thereby be turned toward preparing them. But though this rise of price in a foreign commodity, may encourage domestic industry in one particular branch, it necessarily discourages that industry in almost every other. The dearer the Birmingham manufacturer buys his foreign wine, the cheaper he necessarily sells that part of his hardware with which, or, what comes to the same thing, with the price of which, he buys it. That part of his hardware, therefore, becomes of less value to him, and he has less encouragement to work at it. The dearer the consumers in one country pay for the surplus produce of another, the cheaper they necessarily sell that part of their own surplus produce with which, or, what comes to the same thing, with the price of which, they buy it. That part of their own surplus produce becomes of less value to them, and they have less encouragement to increase its quantity. All taxes upon consumable commodities, therefore, tend to reduce the quantity of productive labour below what it otherwise would be, either in preparing the commodities taxed, if they are home commodities, or in preparing those with which they are purchased, if they are foreign commodities. Such taxes, too, always alter, more or less, the natural direction of national industry, and turn it into a channel always different from, and generally less advantageous, than that in which it would have run of its own accord.
Thirdly, the hope of evading such taxes by smuggling, gives frequent occasion to forfeitures and other penalties, which entirely ruin the smuggler; a person who, though no doubt highly blameable for violating the laws of his country, is frequently incapable of violating those of natural justice, and would have been, in every respect, an excellent citizen, had not the laws of his country made that a crime which nature never meant to be so. In those corrupted governments, where there is at least a general suspicion of much unnecessary expense, and great misapplication of the public revenue, the laws which guard it are little respected. Not many people are scrupulous about smuggling, when, without perjury, they can find an easy and safe opportunity of doing so. To pretend to have any scruple about buying smuggled goods, though a manifest encouragement to the violation of the revenue laws, and to the perjury which almost always attends it, would, in most countries, be regarded as one of those pedantic pieces of hypocrisy which, instead of gaining credit with anybody, serve only to expose the person who affects to practise them to the suspicion of being a greater knave than most of his neighbours. By this indulgence of the public, the smuggler is often encouraged to continue a trade, which he is thus taught to consider as in some measure innocent; and when the severity of the revenue laws is ready to fall upon him, he is frequently disposed to defend with violence, what he has been accustomed to regard as his just property. From being at first, perhaps, rather imprudent than criminal, he at last too often becomes one of the hardiest and most determined violators of the laws of society. By the ruin of the smuggler, his capital, which had before been employed in maintaining productive labour, is absorbed either in the revenue of the state, or in that of the revenue officer; and is employed in maintaining unproductive, to the diminution of the general capital of the society, and of the useful industry which it might otherwise have maintained.
Fourthly, such taxes, by subjecting at least the dealers in the taxed commodities, to the frequent visits and odious examination of the tax-gatherers, expose them sometimes, no doubt, to some degree of oppression, and always to much trouble and vexation; and though vexation, as has already been said, is not strictly speaking expense, it is certainly equivalent to the expense at which every man would be willing to redeem himself from it. The laws of excise, though more effectual for the purpose for which they were instituted, are, in this respect, more vexatious than those of the customs. When a merchant has imported goods subject to certain duties of customs; when he has paid those duties, and lodged the goods in his warehouse; he is not, in most cases, liable to any further trouble or vexation from the custom-house officer. It is otherwise with goods subject to duties of excise. The dealers have no respite from the continual visits and examination of the excise officers. The duties of excise are, upon this account, more unpopular than those of the customs; and so are the officers who levy them. Those officers, it is pretended, though in general, perhaps, they do their duty fully as well as those of the customs; yet, as that duty obliges them to be frequently very troublesome to some of their neighbours, commonly contract a certain hardness of character, which the others frequently have not. This observation, however, may very probably be the mere suggestion of fraudulent dealers, whose smuggling is either prevented or detected by their diligence.
The inconveniencies, however, which are, perhaps, in some degree inseparable from taxes upon consumable communities, fall as light upon the people of Great Britain as upon those of any other country of which the government is nearly as expensive. Our state is not perfect, and might be mended; but it is as good, or better, than that of most of our neighbours.
In consequence of the notion, that duties upon consumable goods were taxes upon the profits of merchants, those duties have, in some countries, been repeated upon every successive sale of the goods. If the profits of the merchant-importer or merchant-manufacturer were taxed, equality seemed to require that those of all the middle buyers, who intervened between either of them and the consumer, should likewise be taxed. The famous alcavala of Spain seems to have been established upon this principle. It was at first a tax of ten per cent. afterwards of fourteen per cent. and it is at present only six per cent. upon the sale of every sort of property whether moveable or immoveable; and it is repeated every time the property is sold. {Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. i, p. 15} The levying of this tax requires a multitude of revenue officers, sufficient to guard the transportation of goods, not only from one province to another, but from one shop to another. It subjects, not only the dealers in some sorts of goods, but those in all sorts, every farmer, every manufacturer, every merchant and shopkeeper, to the continual visit and examination of the tax-gatherers. Through the greater part of the country in which a tax of this kind is established, nothing can be produced for distant sale. The produce of every part of the country must be proportioned to the consumption of the neighbourhood. It is to the alcavala, accordingly, that Ustaritz imputes the ruin of the manufactures of Spain. He might have imputed to it, likewise, the declension of agriculture, it being imposed not only upon manufactures, but upon the rude produce of the land.
In the kingdom of Naples, there is a similar tax of three per cent. upon the value of all contracts, and consequently upon that of all contracts of sale. It is both lighter than the Spanish tax, and the greater part of towns and parishes are allowed to pay a composition in lieu of it. They levy this composition in what manner they please, generally in a way that gives no interruption to the interior commerce of the place. The Neapolitan tax, therefore, is not near so ruinous as the Spanish one.
The uniform system of taxation, which, with a few exception of no great consequence, takes place in all the different parts of the united kingdom of Great Britain, leaves the interior commerce of the country, the inland and coasting trade, almost entirely free. The inland trade is almost perfectly free; and the greater part of goods may be carried from one end of the kingdom to the other, without requiring any permit or let-pass, without being subject to question, visit or examination, from the revenue officers. There are a few exceptions, but they are such as can give no interruption to any important branch of inland commerce of the country. Goods carried coastwise, indeed, require certificates or coast-cockets. If you except coals, however, the rest are almost all duty-free. This freedom of interior commerce, the effect of the uniformity of the system of taxation, is perhaps one of the principal causes of the prosperity of Great Britain; every great country being necessarily the best and most extensive market for the greater part of the productions of its own industry. If the same freedom in consequence of the same uniformity, could be extended to Ireland and the plantations, both the grandeur of the state, and the prosperity of every part of the empire, would probably be still greater than at present.
English
Taxes on luxuries, such as most customs and excise duties, fall without distinction on every kind of revenue and are ultimately paid, without reimbursement, by those who consume the taxed goods. Yet they do not always fall equally or proportionately on each person's revenue. Since each person's inclinations determine how much he consumes, he contributes according to those inclinations rather than in proportion to his revenue: the lavish contribute more, the frugal less, than their proper share. While a man of great fortune is a minor, his consumption commonly contributes very little to the support of the state whose protection secures him a great revenue. Those living abroad contribute nothing through their consumption to the support of the government in the country where their revenue originates. If that country has no land tax and no significant duty on the transfer of either movable or immovable property, as is the case in Ireland, such absentees can draw a great revenue under a government's protection without contributing a single shilling to its support. This inequality is likely to be greatest where the government of a country is in some respects subordinate to, and dependent on, another. In that case the owners of the most extensive property in the dependent country will generally choose to live in the governing country. Ireland is precisely in this position, so it is no wonder that a proposed tax on absentees should be so popular there. It might, perhaps, be somewhat difficult to determine what kind or degree of absence would make a person taxable as an absentee, or exactly when the tax should begin and end. Apart from this very particular case, however, any inequality in individual contributions arising from such taxes is far more than offset by the very circumstance that gives rise to it: each person's contribution is entirely voluntary, since he can choose whether or not to consume the taxed commodity. When properly assessed on suitable commodities, therefore, such taxes provoke less complaint than any others. When the merchant or manufacturer advances them, consumers, who ultimately pay them, soon come to confuse them with the prices of the goods and almost forget that they pay a tax at all. These taxes are, or can be, perfectly certain: they can be assessed so as to leave no doubt about either the amount or the time of payment. Whatever uncertainty may sometimes attend customs duties in Great Britain, or similar duties elsewhere, arises not from the nature of the duties but from imprecise or unskillful wording in the laws that impose them.
Taxes on luxuries generally are, and always can be, paid in installments, as contributors have occasion to buy the taxed goods. In both the timing and the manner of payment, they are, or can be, the most convenient of all taxes. Taken as a whole, therefore, such taxes perhaps conform as well as any to the first three of the four general maxims concerning taxation. They violate the fourth in every respect.
Relative to what they bring into the public treasury, these taxes always take or keep more money from the people's pockets than almost any other taxes. They appear to do so in all four possible ways.
First, collecting such taxes, even when they are most judiciously imposed, requires a great many customs and excise officers. Their salaries and fees are a real tax on the people that brings nothing into the public treasury. This expense, admittedly, is more moderate in Great Britain than in most other countries. In the year ending on the 5th of July, 1775, the gross yield of the several duties administered by the excise commissioners in England was £5,507,308:18:8¼, collected at a cost of little more than five and a half per cent. From that gross yield, however, we must deduct the bounties and drawbacks paid on exports of goods subject to excise, reducing the net yield below five millions. [The net yield that year, after all expenses and allowances were deducted, amounted to £4,975,652:19:6.] The collection of the salt duty and excise duty, though under a different administration, is much more expensive. Net customs revenue does not reach two and a half millions, and is collected at a cost exceeding ten per cent. in officers' salaries and other incidental expenses. But customs officers' fees everywhere greatly exceed their salaries; at some ports they are more than double or triple those salaries. If salaries and incidental expenses thus amount to more than ten per cent. of net customs revenue, the entire cost of collecting it, including both salaries and fees, may exceed twenty or thirty per cent. Excise officers receive few or no fees; and as the administration of this branch of revenue is more recently established, it is generally less corrupt than the customs service, where time has introduced and sanctioned many abuses. By charging on malt all the revenue now raised by the various duties on malt and malt liquors, it is thought that more than £50,000 could be saved in annual excise expenses. Restricting customs duties to a few kinds of goods and collecting them under excise laws would probably save much more in annual customs expenses.
Second, such taxes necessarily obstruct or discourage some branches of industry. Since they always raise the taxed commodity's price, they discourage its consumption and therefore its production. If the commodity is grown or made at home, less labor is employed in growing or making it. If it is imported, and the tax thus raises its price, similar goods made at home may indeed gain an advantage in the domestic market, drawing more domestic industry into their production. Yet although a rise in the price of an imported good may encourage domestic industry in one particular branch, it necessarily discourages it in almost every other. The more a Birmingham manufacturer pays for imported wine, the less he must effectively receive for the portion of his hardware with which he buys it, or, equivalently, whose proceeds pay for it. That portion of his hardware is thus worth less to him, and he has less incentive to make it. The more consumers in one country pay for another country's surplus produce, the less they must effectively receive for that portion of their own surplus produce with which they buy it, or whose proceeds pay for it. That portion of their surplus produce becomes less valuable to them, and they have less reason to increase its quantity. All taxes on consumable commodities thus tend to reduce productive labor below the level it would otherwise reach: labor either in producing the taxed commodities, if they are domestic, or in producing the goods used to buy them, if they are foreign. Such taxes also always alter, to a greater or lesser degree, the natural direction of a nation's industry, diverting it into a channel different from, and generally less advantageous than, the one it would have taken of its own accord.
Third, the hope of escaping these taxes through smuggling frequently leads to forfeitures and other penalties that utterly ruin the smuggler. Though plainly much to blame for breaking his country's laws, he may often be incapable of violating the laws of natural justice, and would have been an excellent citizen in every respect if his country's laws had not made a crime of something nature never intended to be one. In corrupt governments, where there is at least a general suspicion of much unnecessary spending and grave misuse of public revenue, the laws protecting that revenue command little respect. Few people have scruples about smuggling when they can do it easily and safely without committing perjury. In most countries, professing scruples about buying smuggled goods, though such purchases plainly encourage violations of revenue laws and the perjury that almost always accompanies them, would be regarded as a pedantic hypocrisy. Far from earning anyone's respect, it would only expose the person professing it to suspicion of being a greater rogue than most of his neighbors. Public indulgence thus often encourages the smuggler to continue in a trade he has learned to regard as partly innocent; and when the severity of the revenue laws threatens him, he is often inclined to defend by force what he has come to regard as his rightful property. Perhaps more reckless than criminal at first, he too often ends as one of society's boldest and most determined lawbreakers. When the smuggler is ruined, his capital, formerly used to support productive labor, is absorbed either into state revenue or into that of the revenue officer. It then supports unproductive labor, reducing society's general capital and the useful industry that capital could otherwise have supported.
Fourth, these taxes subject at least the dealers in taxed commodities to frequent visits and offensive inspections by tax collectors. This sometimes exposes them, no doubt, to a measure of oppression, and always to much trouble and vexation. Though vexation, as already noted, is not strictly an expense, it is surely equivalent to the amount anyone would willingly spend to free himself from it. Excise laws, though more effective for their intended purpose, are more vexatious in this respect than customs laws. Once a merchant has imported goods subject to customs duties, paid the duties, and stored the goods in his warehouse, he is in most cases spared further trouble or vexation from the customs officer. Not so with goods subject to excise. Dealers have no respite from excise officers' continual visits and inspections. For this reason excise duties are more unpopular than customs duties, as are the officers who collect them. It is alleged that, although excise officers generally perform their duties perhaps as well as customs officers do, the need to trouble some of their neighbors so frequently tends to give them a certain hardness of character that the others often lack. This observation, however, may very well be nothing more than a claim by dishonest dealers whose smuggling these officers' diligence has prevented or detected.
The inconveniences perhaps to some degree inseparable from taxes on consumable commodities nevertheless fall as lightly on the people of Great Britain as on those of any other country whose government costs nearly as much. Our system is not perfect and could be improved; but it is as good as, or better than, that of most of our neighbors.
Because duties on consumable goods were thought to be taxes on merchants' profits, some countries have imposed them again at every successive sale. If the profits of an importing merchant or manufacturing merchant were taxed, fairness appeared to demand that the profits of all the intermediate buyers between either merchant and the consumer should also be taxed. The famous Spanish alcavala seems to have been founded on this principle. Originally a tax of ten per cent., later fourteen per cent., it now stands at only six per cent. on the sale of every kind of property, movable or immovable, and is collected each time the property is sold. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. i, p. 15] Collecting this tax requires enough revenue officers to police the movement of goods not merely between provinces but between shops. It subjects dealers in every kind of good, not just certain kinds—every farmer, manufacturer, merchant, and shopkeeper—to constant visits and inspections from tax collectors. Throughout most of a country with such a tax, nothing can be produced for sale at a distance. What each district produces must be proportionate to what its neighborhood consumes. Ustaritz accordingly attributes the ruin of Spanish manufacturing to the alcavala. He might also have attributed the decline of agriculture to it, since it falls not only on manufactured goods but also on the raw produce of the land.
In the kingdom of Naples, a similar tax of three per cent. is levied on the value of all contracts, and consequently on all contracts of sale. Besides being lighter than the Spanish tax, it allows most towns and parishes to pay a fixed composition instead. They raise this payment however they please, generally without disrupting the locality's internal commerce. The Neapolitan tax is therefore nowhere near as ruinous as the Spanish one.
The uniform system of taxation prevailing, with a few unimportant exceptions, throughout the united kingdom of Great Britain leaves its internal commerce, both inland and coastal, almost entirely free. Inland trade is almost perfectly free. Most goods can be carried from one end of the kingdom to the other without any permit or pass and without questioning, visits, or inspection by revenue officers. There are a few exceptions, but none can disrupt any important branch of the country's inland commerce. Goods shipped along the coast do require certificates or coast-cockets; apart from coal, however, almost all are duty-free. This freedom of internal commerce, made possible by uniform taxation, is perhaps one of the chief causes of Great Britain's prosperity: every great country is necessarily the best and largest market for most products of its own industry. If the same uniformity could bring the same freedom to Ireland and the plantations, both the greatness of the state and the prosperity of every part of the empire would probably be greater still.
Book V, Chapter II, 15
18th-century English
In France, the different revenue laws which take place in the different provinces, require a multitude of revenue officers to surround, not only the frontiers of the kingdom, but those of almost each particular province, in order either to prevent the importation of certain goods, or to subject it to the payment of certain duties, to the no small interruption of the interior commerce of the country. Some provinces are allowed to compound for the gabelle, or salt tax; others are exempted from it altogether. Some provinces are exempted from the exclusive sale of tobacco, which the farmers-general enjoy through the greater part of the kingdom. The aides, which correspond to the excise in England, are very different in different provinces. Some provinces are exempted from them, and pay a composition or equivalent. In those in which they take place, and are in farm, there are many local duties which do not extend beyond a particular town or district. The traites, which correspond to our customs, divide the kingdom into three great parts; first, the provinces subject to the tariff of 1664, which are called the provinces of the five great farms, and under which are comprehended Picardy, Normandy, and the greater part of the interior provinces of the kingdom; secondly, the provinces subject to the tariff of 1667, which are called the provinces reckoned foreign, and under which are comprehended the greater part of the frontier provinces; and, thirdly, those provinces which are said to be treated as foreign, or which, because they are allowed a free commerce with foreign countries, are, in their commerce with the other provinces of France, subjected to the same duties as other foreign countries. These are Alsace, the three bishoprics of Mentz, Toul, and Verdun, and the three cities of Dunkirk, Bayonne, and Marseilles. Both in the provinces of the five great farms (called so on account of an ancient division of the duties of customs into five great branches, each of which was originally the subject of a particular farm, though they are now all united into one), and in those which are said to be reckoned foreign, there are many local duties which do not extend beyond a particular town or district. There are some such even in the provinces which are said to be treated as foreign, particularly in the city of Marseilles. It is unnecessary to observe how much both the restraints upon the interior commerce of the country, and the number of the revenue officers, must be multiplied, in order to guard the frontiers of those different provinces and districts which are subject to such different systems of taxation.
Over and above the general restraints arising from this complicated system of revenue laws, the commerce of wine (after corn, perhaps, the most important production of France) is, in the greater part of the provinces, subject to particular restraints arising from the favour which has been shown to the vineyards of particular provinces and districts above those of others. The provinces most famous for their wines, it will be found, I believe, are those in which the trade in that article is subject to the fewest restraints of this kind. The extensive market which such provinces enjoy, encourages good management both in the cultivation of their vineyards, and in the subsequent preparation of their wines.
Such various and complicated revenue laws are not peculiar to France. The little duchy of Milan is divided into six provinces, in each of which there is a different system of taxation, with regard to several different sorts of consumable goods. The still smaller territories of the duke of Parma are divided into three or four, each of which has, in the same manner, a system of its own. Under such absurd management, nothing but the great fertility of the soil, and happiness of the climate, could preserve such countries from soon relapsing into the lowest state of poverty and barbarism.
Taxes upon consumable commodities may either be levied by an administration, of which the officers are appointed by govermnent, and are immediately accountable to government, of which the revenue must, in this case, vary from year to year, according to the occasional variations in the produce of the tax; or they may be let in farm for a rent certain, the farmer being allowed to appoint his own officers, who, though obliged to levy the tax in the manner directed by the law, are under his immediate inspection, and are immediately accountable to him. The best and most frugal way of levying a tax can never be by farm. Over and above what is necessary for paying the stipulated rent, the salaries of the officers, and the whole expense of administration, the farmer must always draw from the produce of the tax a certain profit, proportioned at least to the advance which he makes, to the risk which he runs, to the trouble which he is at, and to the knowledge and skill which it requires to manage so very complicated a concern. Government, by establishing an administration under their own immediate inspection, of the same kind with that which the farmer establishes, might at least save this profit, which is almost always exorbitant. To farm any considerable branch of the public revenue requires either a great capital, or a great credit; circumstances which would alone restrain the competition for such an undertaking to a very small number of people. Of the few who have this capital or credit, a still smaller number have the necessary knowledge or experience; another circumstance which restrains the competition still further. The very few who are in condition to become competitors, find it more for their interest to combine together; to become copartners, instead of competitors; and, when the farm is set up to auction, to offer no rent but what is much below the real value. In countries where the public revenues are in farm, the farmers are generally the most opulent people. Their wealth would alone excite the public indignation; and the vanity which almost always accompanies such upstart fortunes, the foolish ostentation with which they commonly display that wealth, excite that indignation still more.
The farmers of the public revenue never find the laws too severe, which punish any attempt to evade the payment of a tax. They have no bowels for the contributors, who are not their subjects, and whose universal bankruptcy, if it should happen the day after the farm is expired, would not much affect their interest. In the greatest exigencies of the state, when the anxiety of the sovereign for the exact payment of his revenue is necessarily the greatest, they seldom fail to complain, that without laws more rigorous than those which actually took place, it will be impossible for them to pay even the usual rent. In those moments of public distress, their commands cannot be disputed. The revenue laws, therefore, become gradually more and more severe. The most sanguinary are always to be found in countries where the greater part of the public revenue is in farm; the mildest, in countries where it is levied under the immediate inspection of the sovereign. Even a bad sovereign feels more compassion for his people than can ever be expected from the farmers of his revenue. He knows that the permanent grandeur of his family depends upon the prosperity of his people, and he will never knowingly ruin that prosperity for the sake of any momentary interest of his own. It is otherwise with the farmers of his revenue, whose grandeur may frequently be the effect of the ruin, and not of the prosperity, of his people.
A tax is sometimes not only farmed for a certain rent, but the farmer has, besides, the monopoly of the commodity taxed. In France, the duties upon tobacco and salt are levied in this manner. In such cases, the farmer, instead of one, levies two exorbitant profits upon the people; the profit of the farmer, and the still more exorbitant one of the monopolist. Tobacco being a luxury, every man is allowed to buy or not to buy as he chuses; but salt being a necessary, every man is obliged to buy of the farmer a certain quantity of it; because, if he did not buy this quantity of the farmer, he would, it is presumed, buy it of some smuggler. The taxes upon both commodities are exorbitant. The temptation to smuggle, consequently, is to many people irresistible; while, at the same time, the rigour of the law, and the vigilance of the farmer’s officers, render the yielding to the temptation almost certainly ruinous. The smuggling of salt and tobacco sends every year several hundred people to the galleys, besides a very considerable number whom it sends to the gibbet. Those taxes, levied in this manner, yield a very considerable revenue to government. In 1767, the farm of tobacco was let for twenty-two millions five hundred and forty-one thousand two hundred and seventy-eight livres a-year; that of salt for thirty-six millions four hundred and ninety-two thousand four hundred and four livres. The farm, in both cases, was to commence in 1768, and to last for six years. Those who consider the blood of the people as nothing, in comparison with the revenue of the prince, may, perhaps, approve of this method of levying taxes. Similar taxes and monopolies of salt and tobacco have been established in many other countries, particularly in the Austrian and Prussian dominions, and in the greater part of the states of Italy.
In France, the greater part of the actual revenue of the crown is derived from eight different sources; the taille, the capitation, the two vingtiemes, the gabelles, the aides, the traites, the domaine, and the farm of tobacco. The five last are, in the greater part of the provinces, under farm. The three first are everywhere levied by an administration, under the immediate inspection and direction of government; and it is universally acknowledged, that in proportion to what they take out of the pockets of the people, they bring more into the treasury of the prince than the other five, of which the administration is much more wasteful and expensive.
The finances of France seem, in their present state, to admit of three very obvious reformations. First, by abolishing the taille and the capitation, and by increasing the number of the vingtiemes, so as to produce an additional revenue equal to the amount of those other taxes, the revenue of the crown might be preserved; the expense of collection might be much diminished; the vexation of the inferior ranks of people, which the taille and capitation occasion, might be entirely prevented; and the superior ranks might not be more burdened than the greater part of them are at present. The vingtieme, I have already observed, is a tax very nearly of the same kind with what is called the land tax of England. The burden of the taille, it is acknowledged, falls finally upon the proprietors of land; and as the greater part of the capitation is assessed upon those who are subject to the taille, at so much a-pound of that other tax, the final payment of the greater part of it must likewise fall upon the same order of people. Though the number of the vingtiemes, therefore, was increased, so as to produce an additional revenue equal to the amount of both those taxes, the superior ranks of people might not be more burdened than they are at present; many individuals, no doubt, would, on account of the great inequalities with which the taille is commonly assessed upon the estates and tenants of different individuals. The interest and opposition of such favoured subjects, are the obstacles most likely to prevent this, or any other reformation of the same kind. Secondly, by rendering the gabelle, the aides, the traites, the taxes upon tobacco, all the different customs and excises, uniform in all the different parts of the kingdom, those taxes might be levied at much less expense, and the interior commerce of the kingdom might be rendered as free as that of England. Thirdly, and lastly, by subjecting all those taxes to an administration under the immediate inspection and direction or government, the exorbitant profits of the farmers-general might be added to the revenue of the state. The opposition arising from the private interest of individuals, is likely to be as effectual for preventing the two last as the first-mentioned scheme of reformation.
The French system of taxation seems, in every respect, inferior to the British. In Great Britain, ten millions sterling are annually levied upon less than eight millions of people, without its being possible to say that any particular order is oppressed. From the Collections of the Abbé Expilly, and the observations of the author of the Essay upon the Legislation and Commerce of Corn, it appears probable that France, including the provinces of Lorraine and Bar, contains about twenty-three or twenty-four millions of people; three times the number, perhaps, contained in Great Britain. The soil and climate of France are better than those of Great Britain. The country has been much longer in a state of improvement and cultivation, and is, upon that account, better stocked with all those things which it requires a long time to raise up and accumulate; such as great towns, and convenient and well-built houses, both in town and country. With these advantages, it might be expected, that in France a revenue of thirty millions might be levied for the support of the state, with as little inconvenience as a revenue of ten millions is in Great Britain. In 1765 and 1766, the whole revenue paid into the treasury of France, according to the best, though, I acknowledge, very imperfect accounts which I could get of it, usually run between 308 and 325 millions of livres; that is, it did not amount to fifteen millions sterling; not the half of what might have been expected, had the people contributed in the same proportion to their numbers as the people of Great Britain. The people of France, however, it is generally acknowledged, are much more oppressed by taxes than the people of Great Britain. France, however, is certainly the great empire in Europe, which, after that of Great Britain, enjoys the mildest and most indulgent government.
In Holland, the heavy taxes upon the necessaries of life have ruined, it is said, their principal manufacturers, and are likely to discourage, gradually, even their fisheries and their trade in ship-building. The taxes upon the necessaries of life are inconsiderable in Great Britain, and no manufacture has hitherto been ruined by them. The British taxes which bear hardest on manufactures, are some duties upon the importation of raw materials, particularly upon that of raw silk. The revenue of the States-General and of the different cities, however, is said to amount to more than five millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling; and as the inhabitants of the United Provinces cannot well be supposed to amount to more than a third part of those of Great Britain, they must, in proportion to their number, be much more heavily taxed.
After all the proper subjects of taxation have been exhausted, if the exigencies of the state still continue to require new taxes, they must be imposed upon improper ones. The taxes upon the necessaries of life, therefore, may be no impeachment of the wisdom of that republic, which, in order to acquire and to maintain its independency, has, in spite of its great frugality, been involved in such expensive wars as have obliged it to contract great debts. The singular countries of Holland and Zealand, besides, require a considerable expense even to preserve their existence, or to prevent their being swallowed up by the sea, which must have contributed to increase considerably the load of taxes in those two provinces. The republican form of government seems to be the principal support of the present grandeur of Holland. The owners of great capitals, the great mercantile families, have generally either some direct share, or some indirect influence, in the administration of that government. For the sake of the respect and authority which they derive from this situation, they are willing to live in a country where their capital, if they employ it themselves, will bring them less profit, and if they lend it to another, less interest; and where the very moderate revenue which they can draw from it will purchase less of the necessaries and conveniencies of life than in any other part of Europe. The residence of such wealthy people necessarily keeps alive, in spite of all disadvantages, a certain degree of industry in the country. Any public calamity which should destroy the republican form of government, which should throw the whole administration into the hands of nobles and of soldiers, which should annihilate altogether the importance of those wealthy merchants, would soon render it disagreeable to them to live in a country where they were no longer likely to be much respected. They would remove both their residence and their capital to some other country, and the industry and commerce of Holland would soon follow the capitals which supported them.
English
In France, the revenue laws vary from province to province. They require a host of revenue officers to guard not only the kingdom's borders but the boundaries of almost every province, either to prevent the importation of certain goods or to collect particular duties on them, seriously obstructing the country's internal commerce. Some provinces are allowed to pay a fixed composition for the gabelle, or salt tax; others are altogether exempt. Some are exempt from the exclusive right to sell tobacco enjoyed by the farmers-general throughout most of the kingdom. The aides, corresponding to the English excise, differ greatly among provinces. Some provinces are exempt and pay a composition or equivalent instead. In provinces where these taxes operate and are farmed out, many local duties apply only within a particular town or district. The traites, corresponding to our customs duties, divide the kingdom into three broad regions: first, the provinces subject to the tariff of 1664, known as the provinces of the five great farms, including Picardy, Normandy, and most of the kingdom's interior provinces; second, those subject to the tariff of 1667, called the provinces reckoned foreign, comprising most frontier provinces; and third, those provinces said to be treated as foreign. Because the last have free commerce with foreign countries, their commerce with the other French provinces is subject to the same duties as the commerce of foreign countries. They are Alsace; the three bishoprics of Mentz, Toul, and Verdun; and the three cities of Dunkirk, Bayonne, and Marseilles. Both in the provinces of the five great farms—so called because customs duties were once divided into five principal branches, each originally farmed out separately though now united in one farm—and in the provinces reckoned foreign, numerous local duties apply only within a particular town or district. Some such duties exist even in provinces treated as foreign, notably in the city of Marseilles. There is no need to explain how greatly both the restraints on domestic commerce and the number of revenue officers must increase when the borders of so many provinces and districts with such different tax systems must be guarded.
Beyond the general restraints resulting from this intricate system of revenue laws, trade in wine—perhaps France's most important product after grain—is subject in most provinces to special restrictions arising from the preference given to the vineyards of certain provinces and districts over those of others. The provinces most renowned for their wines are, I believe, those where trade in wine encounters the fewest restrictions of this kind. The broad market they enjoy encourages careful management both in cultivating their vineyards and in subsequently preparing their wines.
Such varied and intricate revenue laws are not peculiar to France. The little duchy of Milan is divided into six provinces, each with a different tax system for several kinds of consumable goods. The still smaller territories of the duke of Parma are divided into three or four, likewise each with its own system. Under so absurd an administration, only the soil's great fertility and the climate's kindness could keep these countries from soon sinking into the lowest poverty and barbarism.
Taxes on consumable commodities can be collected either by an administration whose officers are appointed by government and answer directly to it—in which case revenue must vary from year to year as the tax yield varies—or they can be farmed out for a fixed rent. In the latter case the farmer can appoint his own officers, who must collect the tax as the law directs but are directly supervised by him and answer directly to him. Farming out a tax can never be the best or most economical way to collect it. Beyond the amount needed to pay the agreed rent, the officers' salaries, and the full cost of administration, the farmer must always draw a profit from the tax proceeds, proportionate at least to the advance he makes, the risk he runs, the trouble he takes, and the knowledge and skill required to manage such a complicated undertaking. By establishing under its own direct supervision the same sort of administration the farmer establishes, government could save at least this profit, which is almost always exorbitant. Farming any substantial branch of public revenue requires either a great capital or great credit, conditions that alone limit competition for the contract to very few people. Of the few possessing such capital or credit, fewer still have the necessary knowledge or experience, narrowing competition further. The very few qualified to compete find it more profitable to combine, becoming partners rather than rivals, and to bid a rent far below the contract's real value when it goes to auction. Wherever public revenues are farmed out, the farmers are generally the wealthiest people. Their wealth alone would arouse public resentment; the vanity almost always accompanying these sudden fortunes, and the foolish ostentation with which their owners commonly display their wealth, arouse it still more.
Farmers of public revenue never consider laws too severe when those laws punish attempts to evade a tax. They feel no compassion for the taxpayers, who are not their subjects and whose universal bankruptcy, if it occurred the day after the farm expired, would scarcely affect their interests. In the state's greatest emergencies, when the sovereign is inevitably most anxious to receive his full revenue, they rarely fail to complain that laws stricter than those currently in force are indispensable if they are to pay even the usual rent. At moments of public distress their demands cannot be challenged. Revenue laws therefore grow steadily harsher. The bloodiest are always found where most public revenue is farmed out; the mildest, where it is collected under the sovereign's direct supervision. Even a bad sovereign feels more compassion for his people than can ever be expected of those who farm his revenue. He knows the lasting greatness of his family depends on his people's prosperity and would never knowingly destroy it for some fleeting advantage of his own. It is otherwise with the revenue farmers: their greatness may often result from his people's ruin rather than their prosperity.
Sometimes a tax is not merely farmed out for a fixed rent: the farmer also receives a monopoly of the taxed commodity. In France the duties on tobacco and salt are collected in this way. The farmer then exacts not one but two exorbitant profits from the people: the profit of farming the tax and the still more exorbitant profit of monopoly. As tobacco is a luxury, each person may choose whether to buy it; but because salt is a necessity, each person must buy a specified amount of it from the farmer, on the presumption that anyone who failed to do so would buy it from a smuggler. The taxes on both goods are exorbitant. The temptation to smuggle is consequently irresistible to many, while the law's rigor and the vigilance of the farmer's officers make yielding to that temptation almost certain to ruin them. Smuggling salt and tobacco sends several hundred people to the galleys every year, besides a considerable number to the gallows. Collected in this manner, these taxes yield substantial revenue to government. In 1767 the tobacco farm was let for twenty-two millions five hundred and forty-one thousand two hundred and seventy-eight livres a year; the salt farm for thirty-six millions four hundred and ninety-two thousand four hundred and four livres. Both farms were to begin in 1768 and run for six years. Those who count the people's blood as nothing beside the prince's revenue may perhaps approve this way of collecting taxes. Similar taxes and monopolies of salt and tobacco have been established in many other countries, particularly the Austrian and Prussian dominions and most Italian states.
In France, most of the crown's current revenue comes from eight sources: the taille, the capitation, the two vingtiemes, the gabelles, the aides, the traites, the domaine, and the tobacco farm. In most provinces the last five are farmed out. The first three are everywhere collected by an administration under the government's direct supervision and direction. It is universally acknowledged that, in proportion to what they take from the people's pockets, they bring more into the prince's treasury than the other five, whose administration is far more wasteful and costly.
French finances, in their present state, seem open to three very obvious reforms. First, abolishing the taille and the capitation and increasing the number of vingtiemes enough to replace their revenue would preserve the crown's revenue, greatly reduce collection costs, entirely prevent the harassment of the lower ranks caused by the taille and capitation, and perhaps leave the higher ranks no more burdened than most of them are now. As I have already observed, the vingtieme is very much like the English land tax. The burden of the taille is acknowledged ultimately to fall on landowners. Since most of the capitation is assessed on those subject to the taille at a certain amount per pound of that tax, most of its final burden must likewise fall on landowners. Thus, even if the number of vingtiemes were increased enough to yield additional revenue equal to both those taxes, the higher ranks might not be more burdened than at present. Many individuals would, no doubt, be more burdened, because the taille is commonly assessed with great inequality on different people's estates and tenants. The interests and resistance of such favored subjects are the most likely obstacles to this and any similar reform. Second, making the gabelle, the aides, the traites, the tobacco taxes, and all the various customs and excise duties uniform throughout the kingdom would make them much cheaper to collect and make its internal commerce as free as England's. Third and finally, placing all these taxes under an administration directly supervised and directed by government would add the farmers-general's exorbitant profits to state revenue. Opposition rooted in private interests is as likely to prevent the last two reforms as the first.
The French system of taxation appears inferior in every respect to the British. In Great Britain, ten millions sterling are collected annually from fewer than eight millions of people, without anyone being able to say that any particular rank is oppressed. The collections of the Abbé Expilly and the observations of the author of the Essay upon the Legislation and Commerce of Corn suggest that France, including Lorraine and Bar, contains some twenty-three or twenty-four millions of people—perhaps three times the population of Great Britain. France's soil and climate are better than Britain's. Its land has been improved and cultivated for much longer and is consequently better supplied with the things that take a long time to build and accumulate: great towns and comfortable, well-built houses in both town and country. With these advantages, we might expect France to raise a revenue of thirty millions for the state's support with as little inconvenience as Britain raises ten millions. In 1765 and 1766, according to the best accounts I could obtain, imperfect as I acknowledge they are, the total revenue paid into the French treasury generally lay between 308 and 325 millions of livres. That is less than fifteen millions sterling: not half what we might have expected if its people had contributed in the same proportion to their numbers as the people of Great Britain. Yet the people of France, it is generally acknowledged, are much more oppressed by taxes than the British. France is nevertheless certainly the great European empire that, after Great Britain, enjoys the mildest and most indulgent government.
In Holland, heavy taxes on the necessities of life are said to have ruined its principal manufactures and seem likely gradually to discourage even its fisheries and shipbuilding trade. Such taxes are slight in Great Britain and have so far ruined no manufacture there. The British taxes that weigh most heavily on manufacturing are certain duties on imported raw materials, particularly raw silk. The revenue of the States-General and the various cities, however, is said to exceed five millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. As the United Provinces cannot have more than about a third as many inhabitants as Great Britain, their people must be far more heavily taxed in proportion to their numbers.
Once all suitable objects of taxation have been exhausted, if the state's needs still demand new taxes, they must fall on unsuitable objects. Taxes on necessities of life, therefore, need not discredit the wisdom of a republic that, to win and preserve its independence, has despite its great frugality been drawn into costly wars and forced to incur great debts. Moreover, the extraordinary lands of Holland and Zealand require considerable spending simply to keep them in existence and prevent the sea from swallowing them, which must have considerably increased the tax burden in those two provinces. The republican form of government seems to be the mainstay of Holland's present greatness. Owners of large capitals, the great merchant families, generally have either a direct share or an indirect influence in its government. For the respect and authority this position gives them, they are willing to live in a country where their capital earns less profit if they employ it themselves, or less interest if they lend it to others, and where the modest revenue it yields buys fewer necessities and comforts than anywhere else in Europe. The presence of these wealthy people necessarily sustains some measure of industry in the country despite all its disadvantages. Any public calamity that destroyed the republic, placed the entire government in the hands of nobles and soldiers, and altogether extinguished the importance of these wealthy merchants would soon make it disagreeable for them to live where they could no longer expect much respect. They would move both their homes and their capital abroad; Holland's industry and commerce would soon follow the capitals that sustained them.
Book V, Chapter III, 1
18th-century English
OF PUBLIC DEBTS.
In that rude state of society which precedes the extension of commerce and the improvement of manufactures; when those expensive luxuries, which commerce and manufactures can alone introduce, are altogether unknown; the person who possesses a large revenue, I have endeavoured to show in the third book of this Inquiry, can spend or enjoy that revenue in no other way than by maintaining nearly as many people as it can maintain. A large revenue may at all times be said to consist in the command of a large quantity of the necessaries of life. In that rude state of things, it is commonly paid in a large quantity of those necessaries, in the materials of plain food and coarse clothing, in corn and cattle, in wool and raw hides. When neither commerce nor manufactures furnish any thing for which the owner can exchange the greater part of those materials which are over and above his own consumption, he can do nothing with the surplus, but feed and clothe nearly as many people as it will feed and clothe. A hospitality in which there is no luxury, and a liberality in which there is no ostentation, occasion, in this situation of things, the principal expenses of the rich and the great. But these I have likewise endeavoured to show, in the same book, are expenses by which people are not very apt to ruin themselves. There is not, perhaps, any selfish pleasure so frivolous, of which the pursuit has not sometimes ruined even sensible men. A passion for cock-fighting has ruined many. But the instances, I believe, are not very numerous, of people who have been ruined by a hospitality or liberality of this kind; though the hospitality of luxury, and the liberality of ostentation have ruined many. Among our feudal ancestors, the long time during which estates used to continue in the same family, sufficiently demonstrates the general disposition of people to live within their income. Though the rustic hospitality, constantly exercised by the great landholders, may not, to us in the present times, seem consistent with that order which we are apt to consider as inseparably connected with good economy; yet we must certainly allow them to have been at least so far frugal, as not commonly to have spent their whole income. A part of their wool and raw hides, they had generally an opportunity of selling for money. Some part of this money, perhaps, they spent in purchasing the few objects of vanity and luxury, with which the circumstances of the times could furnish them; but some part of it they seem commonly to have hoarded. They could not well, indeed, do any thing else but hoard whatever money they saved. To trade, was disgraceful to a gentleman; and to lend money at interest, which at that time was considered as usury, and prohibited by law, would have been still more so. In those times of violence and disorder, besides, it was convenient to have a hoard of money at hand, that in case they should be driven from their own home, they might have something of known value to carry with them to some place of safety. The same violence which made it convenient to hoard, made it equally convenient to conceal the hoard. The frequency of treasure-trove, or of treasure found, of which no owner was known, sufficiently demonstrates the frequency, in those times, both of hoarding and of concealing the hoard. Treasure-trove was then considered as an important branch of the revenue of the sovereign. All the treasure-trove of the kingdom would scarce, perhaps, in the present times, make an important branch of the revenue of a private gentleman of a good estate.
The same disposition, to save and to hoard, prevailed in the sovereign, as well as in the subjects. Among nations, to whom commerce and manufacture are little known, the sovereign, it has already been observed in the Fourth book, is in a situation which naturally disposes him to the parsimony requisite for accumulation. In that situation, the expense, even of a sovereign, cannot be directed by that vanity which delights in the gaudy finery of a court. The ignorance of the times affords but few of the trinkets in which that finery consists. Standing armies are not then necessary; so that the expense, even of a sovereign, like that of any other great lord can be employed in scarce any thing but bounty to his tenants, and hospitality to his retainers. But bounty and hospitality very seldom lead to extravagance; though vanity almost always does. All the ancient sovereigns of Europe, accordingly, it has already been observed, had treasures. Every Tartar chief, in the present times, is said to have one.
In a commercial country, abounding with every sort of expensive luxury, the sovereign, in the same manner as almost all the great proprietors in his dominions, naturally spends a great part of his revenue in purchasing those luxuries. His own and the neighbouring countries supply him abundantly with all the costly trinkets which compose the splendid, but insignificant, pageantry of a court. For the sake of an inferior pageantry of the same kind, his nobles dismiss their retainers, make their tenants independent, and become gradually themselves as insignificant as the greater part of the wealthy burghers in his dominions. The same frivolous passions, which influence their conduct, influence his. How can it be supposed that he should be the only rich man in his dominions who is insensible to pleasures of this kind? If he does not, what he is very likely to do, spend upon those pleasures so great a part of his revenue as to debilitate very much the defensive power of the state, it cannot well be expected that he should not spend upon them all that part of it which is over and above what is necessary for supporting that defensive power. His ordinary expense becomes equal to his ordinary revenue, and it is well if it does not frequently exceed it. The amassing of treasure can no longer be expected; and when extraordinary exigencies require extraordinary expenses, he must necessarily call upon his subjects for an extraordinary aid. The present and the late king of Prussia are the only great princes of Europe, who, since the death of Henry IV. of France, in 1610, are supposed to have amassed any considerable treasure. The parsimony which leads to accumulation has become almost as rare in republican as in monarchical governments. The Italian republics, the United Provinces of the Netherlands, are all in debt. The canton of Berne is the single republic in Europe which has amassed any considerable treasure. The other Swiss republics have not. The taste for some sort of pageantry, for splendid buildings, at least, and other public ornaments, frequently prevails as much in the apparently sober senate-house of a little republic, as in the dissipated court of the greatest king.
The want of parsimony, in time of peace, imposes the necessity of contracting debt in time of war. When war comes, there is no money in the treasury, but what is necessary for carrying on the ordinary expense of the peace establishment. In war, an establishment of three or four times that expense becomes necessary for the defence of the state; and consequently, a revenue three or four times greater than the peace revenue. Supposing that the sovereign should have, what he scarce ever has, the immediate means of augmenting his revenue in proportion to the augmentation of his expense; yet still the produce of the taxes, from which this increase of revenue must be drawn, will not begin to come into the treasury, till perhaps ten or twelve months after they are imposed. But the moment in which war begins, or rather the moment in which it appears likely to begin, the army must be augmented, the fleet must be fitted out, the garrisoned towns must be put into a posture of defence; that army, that fleet, those garrisoned towns, must be furnished with arms, ammunition, and provisions. An immediate and great expense must be incurred in that moment of immediate danger, which will not wait for the gradual and slow returns of the new taxes. In this exigency, government can have no other resource but in borrowing.
The same commercial state of society which, by the operation of moral causes, brings government in this manner into the necessity of borrowing, produces in the subjects both an ability and an inclination to lend. If it commonly brings along with it the necessity of borrowing, it likewise brings with it the facility of doing so.
A country abounding with merchants and manufacturers, necessarily abounds with a set of people through whose hands, not only their own capitals, but the capitals of all those who either lend them money, or trust them with goods, pass as frequently, or more frequently, than the revenue of a private man, who, without trade or business, lives upon his income, passes through his hands. The revenue of such a man can regularly pass through his hands only once in a year. But the whole amount of the capital and credit of a merchant, who deals in a trade of which the returns are very quick, may sometimes pass through his hands two, three, or four times in a year. A country abounding with merchants and manufacturers, therefore, necessarily abounds with a set of people, who have it at all times in their power to advance, if they chuse to do so, a very large sum of money to government. Hence the ability in the subjects of a commercial state to lend.
Commerce and manufactures can seldom flourish long in any state which does not enjoy a regular administration of justice; in which the people do not feel themselves secure in the possession of their property; in which the faith of contracts is not supported by law; and in which the authority of the state is not supposed to be regularly employed in enforcing the payment of debts from all those who are able to pay. Commerce and manufactures, in short, can seldom flourish in any state, in which there is not a certain degree of confidence in the justice of government. The same confidence which disposes great merchants and manufacturers upon ordinary occasions, to trust their property to the protection of a particular government, disposes them, upon extraordinary occasions, to trust that government with the use of their property. By lending money to government, they do not even for a moment diminish their ability to carry on their trade and manufactures; on the contrary, they commonly augment it. The necessities of the state render government, upon most occasions willing to borrow upon terms extremely advantageous to the lender. The security which it grants to the original creditor, is made transferable to any other creditor; and from the universal confidence in the justice of the state, generally sells in the market for more than was originally paid for it. The merchant or monied man makes money by lending money to government, and instead of diminishing, increases his trading capital. He generally considers it as a favour, therefore, when the administration admits him to a share in the first subscription for a new loan. Hence the inclination or willingness in the subjects of a commercial state to lend.
The government of such a state is very apt to repose itself upon this ability and willingness of its subjects to lend it their money on extraordinary occasions. It foresees the facility of borrowing, and therefore dispenses itself from the duty of saving.
In a rude state of society, there are no great mercantile or manufacturing capitals. The individuals, who hoard whatever money they can save, and who conceal their hoard, do so from a distrust of the justice of government; from a fear, that if it was known that they had a hoard, and where that hoard was to be found, they would quickly be plundered. In such a state of things, few people would be able, and nobody would be willing to lend their money to government on extraordinary exigencies. The sovereign feels that he must provide for such exigencies by saving, because he foresees the absolute impossibility of borrowing. This foresight increases still further his natural disposition to save.
The progress of the enormous debts which at present oppress, and will in the long-run probably ruin, all the great nations of Europe, has been pretty uniform. Nations, like private men, have generally begun to borrow upon what may be called personal credit, without assigning or mortgaging any particular fund for the payment of the debt; and when this resource has failed them, they have gone on to borrow upon assignments or mortgages of particular funds.
What is called the unfunded debt of Great Britain, is contracted in the former of those two ways. It consists partly in a debt which bears, or is supposed to bear, no interest, and which resembles the debts that a private man contracts upon account; and partly in a debt which bears interest, and which resembles what a private man contracts upon his bill or promissory-note. The debts which are due, either for extraordinary services, or for services either not provided for, or not paid at the time when they are performed; part of the extraordinaries of the army, navy, and ordnance, the arrears of subsidies to foreign princes, those of seamen’s wages, etc. usually constitute a debt of the first kind. Navy and exchequer bills, which are issued sometimes in payment of a part of such debts, and sometimes for other purposes, constitute a debt of the second kind; exchequer bills bearing interest from the day on which they are issued, and navy bills six months after they are issued. The bank of England, either by voluntarily discounting those bills at their current value, or by agreeing with government for certain considerations to circulate exchequer bills, that is, to receive them at par, paying the interest which happens to be due upon them, keeps up their value, and facilitates their circulation, and thereby frequently enables government to contract a very large debt of this kind. In France, where there is no bank, the state bills (billets d’etat {See Examen des Reflections Politiques sur les Finances.}) have sometimes sold at sixty and seventy per cent. discount. During the great recoinage in king William’s time, when the bank of England thought proper to put a stop to its usual transactions, exchequer bills and tallies are said to have sold from twenty-five to sixty per cent. discount; owing partly, no doubt, to the supposed instability of the new government established by the Revolution, but partly, too, to the want of the support of the bank of England.
When this resource is exhausted, and it becomes necessary, in order to raise money, to assign or mortgage some particular branch of the public revenue for the payment of the debt, government has, upon different occasions, done this in two different ways. Sometimes it has made this assignment or mortgage for a short period of time only, a year, or a few years, for example; and sometimes for perpetuity. In the one case, the fund was supposed sufficient to pay, within the limited time, both principal and interest of the money borrowed. In the other, it was supposed sufficient to pay the interest only, or a perpetual annuity equivalent to the interest, government being at liberty to redeem, at any time, this annuity, upon paying back the principal sum borrowed. When money was raised in the one way, it was said to be raised by anticipation; when in the other, by perpetual funding, or, more shortly, by funding.
English
ON PUBLIC DEBTS.
In the rough state of society before commerce spreads and manufactures develop, when the costly luxuries that only commerce and manufactures can introduce are wholly unknown, a person with a large revenue can, as I have tried to show in the third book of this Inquiry, spend or enjoy it only by supporting nearly as many people as it can support. A large revenue may always be described as command over a large quantity of the necessities of life. In that rough state, it is commonly paid in a large quantity of those necessities: the materials of simple food and coarse clothing, grain and cattle, wool and raw hides. When neither commerce nor manufactures offer the owner anything for which to exchange most of what remains after his own consumption, he can do nothing with the surplus but feed and clothe nearly as many people as it will feed and clothe. Hospitality without luxury, and generosity without ostentation, are then the chief expenses of the rich and powerful. But these, as I have also tried to show in the same book, are expenses by which people are seldom ruined. There is perhaps no selfish pleasure so frivolous that pursuing it has not sometimes ruined even sensible men. A passion for cockfighting has ruined many. Yet instances of people ruined by hospitality or generosity of this kind are, I believe, uncommon, though luxurious hospitality and ostentatious generosity have ruined many. The long periods for which estates remained in the same families among our feudal ancestors sufficiently demonstrate a general tendency to live within one's income. The rustic hospitality constantly practiced by great landowners may now seem inconsistent with the order we tend to regard as inseparable from sound management; yet we must surely grant that they were frugal enough not ordinarily to spend their entire income. They generally had an opportunity to sell some of their wool and raw hides for money. Perhaps they spent some of that money on the few objects of vanity and luxury available in their age; but it seems they commonly hoarded some of it. Indeed, there was little else they could do with whatever money they saved. Trade was disgraceful for a gentleman, and lending money at interest, then regarded as usury and prohibited by law, would have been more disgraceful still. In those violent and disorderly times, moreover, a reserve of money was useful: if driven from home, they could carry something of recognized value to safety. The same violence that made hoarding useful made concealment equally useful. The frequency of treasure-trove—treasure discovered with no known owner—sufficiently shows how often people both hoarded and concealed their hoards. Treasure-trove was then considered an important source of sovereign revenue. Today, perhaps, all the treasure-trove in the kingdom would scarcely be a significant source of income for a private gentleman with a good estate.
The same tendency to save and hoard prevailed in sovereigns as in their subjects. Among nations little acquainted with commerce and manufacturing, the sovereign, as observed already in the Fourth book, is placed in circumstances naturally inclining him to the frugality required for accumulation. In such circumstances even a sovereign's expenses cannot be governed by a vanity that delights in the gaudy finery of a court. The ignorance of the age provides few of the trinkets of which that finery consists. Standing armies are not yet necessary; thus even a sovereign, like any other great lord, can spend scarcely anything except on generosity to his tenants and hospitality to his retainers. Generosity and hospitality seldom lead to extravagance, whereas vanity almost always does. Accordingly, as already observed, all the ancient sovereigns of Europe possessed treasures. Every Tartar chief today is said to possess one.
In a commercial country rich in every kind of expensive luxury, the sovereign, like nearly all the great landowners in his dominions, naturally spends much of his revenue purchasing those luxuries. His own country and its neighbors supply him abundantly with all the costly trinkets that make up a court's splendid but insignificant pageantry. To sustain a lesser pageantry of the same sort, his nobles dismiss their retainers, make their tenants independent, and gradually become as insignificant themselves as most wealthy townsmen in his dominions. The frivolous passions governing their conduct govern his as well. Why suppose him the only rich man in his dominions untouched by such pleasures? Even if he does not do what he very likely will—spend so much of his revenue on them that he seriously weakens the state's defenses—we can hardly expect him not to spend on them everything beyond what those defenses require. His ordinary expenses come to equal his ordinary revenue, and he is fortunate if they do not frequently exceed it. He can no longer be expected to amass treasure; when extraordinary needs demand extraordinary expenditure, he must call upon his subjects for extraordinary assistance. The present and the late king of Prussia are the only great European princes supposed to have amassed any substantial treasure since the death of Henry IV. of France, in 1610. The frugality that leads to accumulation has become almost as rare in republics as in monarchies. The Italian republics and the United Provinces of the Netherlands are all in debt. The canton of Berne is the only European republic to have amassed any substantial treasure; the other Swiss republics have not. A taste for some kind of pageantry—splendid buildings, at least, and other public adornments—often prevails as strongly in the seemingly sober senate house of a small republic as in the extravagant court of the greatest king.
Failure to save in peacetime makes borrowing necessary in wartime. When war arrives, the treasury holds no more money than is needed for the ordinary expenses of the peacetime establishment. War requires an establishment costing three or four times as much to defend the state, and consequently a revenue three or four times the peacetime revenue. Even supposing the sovereign possessed, as he almost never does, the immediate means to raise his revenue in proportion to his expenses, the proceeds of the taxes that must supply the increase would not begin to enter the treasury until perhaps ten or twelve months after their imposition. Yet the moment war begins—or rather, the moment it seems likely to begin—the army must be enlarged, the fleet fitted out, and garrisoned towns prepared for defense; army, fleet, and garrisons must all be supplied with arms, ammunition, and provisions. Great expense must be incurred immediately in the face of immediate danger; it cannot await the slow, gradual receipts from new taxes. In this emergency the government has no recourse but to borrow.
The same commercial condition of society that, through moral causes, thus compels a government to borrow gives its subjects both the ability and the inclination to lend. If it commonly brings the need to borrow, it also brings the means of doing so readily.
A country rich in merchants and manufacturers must also have many people through whose hands pass not only their own capitals but those of everyone who lends them money or entrusts them with goods. These sums pass through their hands as often as, or more often than, the income of a private man living on his income without trade or business passes through his. Such a man's income can ordinarily pass through his hands only once a year. But the whole capital and credit of a merchant engaged in a trade with very rapid returns may sometimes pass through his hands two, three, or four times a year. A country rich in merchants and manufacturers thus necessarily has many people able, whenever they choose, to advance a very large sum to the government. Hence the ability of subjects in a commercial state to lend.
Commerce and manufacturing can seldom flourish long in a state without a regular administration of justice, where people feel insecure in their property, where contracts are not upheld by law, and where the state's authority cannot be counted on to compel those able to pay their debts to do so. In short, they can seldom flourish without some confidence in the justice of government. The same confidence that ordinarily leads great merchants and manufacturers to entrust their property to a particular government's protection leads them, on extraordinary occasions, to entrust it with the use of that property. By lending to the government, they do not diminish their ability to carry on trade and manufacturing even momentarily; they commonly increase it. The needs of the state generally make the government willing to borrow on terms extremely advantageous to the lender. The security it gives the original creditor can be transferred to another creditor and, because confidence in the state's justice is widespread, generally sells in the market for more than its original price. The merchant or moneyed man profits by lending to the government and increases rather than diminishes his trading capital. He therefore generally considers it a favor when the administration admits him to the first subscription for a new loan. Hence the inclination of subjects in a commercial state to lend.
The government of such a state is very likely to rely on its subjects' ability and willingness to lend on extraordinary occasions. Foreseeing how easily it can borrow, it excuses itself from the duty of saving.
In a rough state of society there are no large commercial or manufacturing capitals. Those who hoard whatever money they can save, and conceal their hoards, do so because they distrust the government's justice: they fear that, if their hoard and its location became known, they would soon be robbed. In such circumstances few could lend money to the government in an emergency, and nobody would willingly do so. The sovereign understands that he must save to meet such emergencies, for he foresees that borrowing will be impossible. This foresight further strengthens his natural inclination to save.
The enormous debts now weighing upon, and probably destined in the long run to ruin, all the great nations of Europe have followed a fairly uniform course. Nations, like individuals, have generally begun by borrowing on what might be called personal credit, without assigning or mortgaging a particular fund to pay the debt; when that resource failed, they proceeded to borrow against assignments or mortgages of particular funds.
What is called Great Britain's unfunded debt is contracted in the first of these ways. It consists partly of debt bearing, or assumed to bear, no interest, resembling a private person's debts incurred on account; and partly of interest-bearing debt resembling what a private person contracts on a bill or promissory note. Debts due for extraordinary services, or for services either not provided for or not paid for when performed—part of the extraordinary expenses of the army, navy, and ordnance, unpaid subsidies to foreign princes, unpaid seamen's wages, etc.—usually constitute the first kind. Navy and exchequer bills, issued sometimes to pay part of such debts and sometimes for other purposes, constitute the second kind: exchequer bills bear interest from their issue date, and navy bills from six months after their issue. The bank of England sustains the value and facilitates the circulation of these bills either by voluntarily discounting them at their current value or by agreeing, for certain considerations, to circulate exchequer bills on behalf of the government—that is, to accept them at face value and pay the interest due on them. It thereby often enables the government to contract a very large debt of this kind. In France, where there is no bank, state bills (billets d'etat [See Examen des Reflections Politiques sur les Finances.]) have sometimes sold at a sixty and seventy per cent. discount. During the great recoinage in king William's time, when the bank of England chose to suspend its usual transactions, exchequer bills and tallies are said to have sold at discounts of twenty-five to sixty per cent. This was due partly, no doubt, to doubts about the stability of the new government established by the Revolution, but partly also to the lack of support from the bank of England.
When this resource is exhausted and money can be raised only by assigning or mortgaging a particular part of public revenue to pay the debt, governments have done so in two ways. Sometimes the assignment or mortgage has lasted only a short time—a year or a few years, for example—and sometimes forever. In the first case, the fund was thought sufficient to repay both principal and interest within the specified term. In the second, it was thought sufficient to pay only the interest, or a perpetual annuity equal to the interest, while the government remained free to redeem the annuity at any time by repaying the principal borrowed. Money raised by the first means was said to be raised by anticipation; by the second, by perpetual funding, or simply funding.
Book V, Chapter III, 2
18th-century English
In Great Britain, the annual land and malt taxes are regularly anticipated every year, by virtue of a borrowing clause constantly inserted into the acts which impose them. The bank of England generally advances at an interest, which, since the Revolution, has varied from eight to three per cent., the sums of which those taxes are granted, and receives payment as their produce gradually comes in. If there is a deficiency, which there always is, it is provided for in the supplies of the ensuing year. The only considerable branch of the public revenue which yet remains unmortgaged, is thus regularly spent before it comes in. Like an improvident spendthrift, whose pressing occasions will not allow him to wait for the regular payment of his revenue, the state is in the constant practice of borrowing of its own factors and agents, and of paying interest for the use of its own money.
In the reign of king William, and during a great part of that of queen Anne, before we had become so familiar as we are now with the practice of perpetual funding, the greater part of the new taxes were imposed but for a short period of time (for four, five, six, or seven years only), and a great part of the grants of every year consisted in loans upon anticipations of the produce of those taxes. The produce being frequently insufficient for paying, within the limited term, the principal and interest of the money borrowed, deficiencies arose; to make good which, it became necessary to prolong the term.
In 1697, by the 8th of William III., c. 20, the deficiencies of several taxes were charged upon what was then called the first general mortgage or fund, consisting of a prolongation to the first of August 1706, of several different taxes, which would have expired within a shorter term, and of which the produce was accumulated into one general fund. The deficiencies charged upon this prolonged term amounted to £5,160,459: 14: 9½.
In 1701, those duties, with some others, were still further prolonged, for the like purposes, till the first of August 1710, and were called the second general mortgage or fund. The deficiencies charged upon it amounted to £2,055,999: 7: 11½.
In 1707, those duties were still further prolonged, as a fund for new loans, to the first of August 1712, and were called the third general mortgage or fund. The sum borrowed upon it was £983,254:11:9¼.
In 1708, those duties were all (except the old subsidy of tonnage and poundage, of which one moiety only was made a part of this fund, and a duty upon the importation of Scotch linen, which had been taken off by the articles of union) still further continued, as a fund for new loans, to the first of August 1714, and were called the fourth general mortgage or fund. The sum borrowed upon it was £925,176:9:2¼.
In 1709, those duties were all (except the old subsidy of tonnage and poundage, which was now left out of this fund altogether) still further continued, for the same purpose, to the first of August 1716, and were called the fifth general mortgage or fund. The sum borrowed upon it was £922,029:6s.
In 1710, those duties were again prolonged to the first of August 1720, and were called the sixth general mortgage or fund. The sum borrowed upon it was £1,296,552:9:11¾.
In 1711, the same duties (which at this time were thus subject to four different anticipations), together with several others, were continued for ever, and made a fund for paying the interest of the capital of the South-sea company, which had that year advanced to government, for paying debts, and making good deficiencies, the sum of £9,177,967:15:4d, the greatest loan which at that time had ever been made.
Before this period, the principal, so far as I have been able to observe, the only taxes, which, in order to pay the interest of a debt, had been imposed for perpetuity, were those for paying the interest of the money which had been advanced to government by the bank and East-India company, and of what it was expected would be advanced, but which was never advanced, by a projected land bank. The bank fund at this time amounted to £3,375,027:17:10½, for which was paid an annuity or interest of £206,501:15:5d. The East-India fund amounted to £3,200,000, for which was paid an annuity or interest of £160,000; the bank fund being at six per cent., the East-India fund at five per cent. interest.
In 1715, by the first of George I., c. 12, the different taxes which had been mortgaged for paying the bank annuity, together with several others, which, by this act, were likewise rendered perpetual, were accumulated into one common fund, called the aggregate fund, which was charged not only with the payment of the bank annuity, but with several other annuities and burdens of different kinds. This fund was afterwards augmented by the third of George I., c.8., and by the fifth of George I., c. 3, and the different duties which were then added to it were likewise rendered perpetual.
In 1717, by the third of George I., c. 7, several other taxes were rendered perpetual, and accumulated into another common fund, called the general fund, for the payment of certain annuities, amounting in the whole to £724,849:6:10½.
In consequence of those different acts, the greater part of the taxes, which before had been anticipated only for a short term of years were rendered perpetual, as a fund for paying, not the capital, but the interest only, of the money which had been borrowed upon them by different successive anticipations.
Had money never been raised but by anticipation, the course of a few years would have liberated the public revenue, without any other attention of government besides that of not overloading the fund, by charging it with more debt than it could pay within the limited term, and not of anticipating a second time before the expiration of the first anticipation. But the greater part of European governments have been incapable of those attentions. They have frequently overloaded the fund, even upon the first anticipation; and when this happened not to be the case, they have generally taken care to overload it, by anticipating a second and a third time, before the expiration of the first anticipation. The fund becoming in this manner altogether insufficient for paying both principal and interest of the money borrowed upon it, it became necessary to charge it with the interest only, or a perpetual annuity equal to the interest; and such improvident anticipations necessarily gave birth to the more ruinous practice of perpetual funding. But though this practice necessarily puts off the liberation of the public revenue from a fixed period, to one so indefinite that it is not very likely ever to arrive; yet, as a greater sum can, in all cases, be raised by this new practice than by the old one of anticipation, the former, when men have once become familiar with it, has, in the great exigencies of the state, been universally preferred to the latter. To relieve the present exigency, is always the object which principally interests those immediately concerned in the administration of public affairs. The future liberation of the public revenue they leave to the care of posterity.
During the reign of queen Anne, the market rate of interest had fallen from six to five per cent.; and, in the twelfth year of her reign, five per cent. was declared to be the highest rate which could lawfully be taken for money borrowed upon private security. Soon after the greater part of the temporary taxes of Great Britain had been rendered perpetual, and distributed into the aggregate, South-sea, and general funds, the creditors of the public, like those of private persons, were induced to accept of five per cent. for the interest of their money, which occasioned a saving of one per cent. upon the capital of the greater part or the debts which had been thus funded for perpetuity, or of one-sixth of the greater part of the annuities which were paid out of the three great funds above mentioned. This saving left a considerable surplus in the produce of the different taxes which had been accumulated into those funds, over and above what was necessary for paying the annuities which were now charged upon them, and laid the foundation of what has since been called the sinking fund. In 1717, it amounted to £523,454:7:7½. In 1727, the interest of the greater part of the public debts was still further reduced to four per cent.; and, in 1753 and 1757, to three and a-half, and three per cent., which reductions still further augmented the sinking fund.
A sinking fund, though instituted for the payment of old, facilitates very much the contracting of new debts. It is a subsidiary fund, always at hand, to be mortgaged in aid of any other doubtful fund, upon which money is proposed to be raised in any exigency of the state. Whether the sinking fund of Great Britain has been more frequently applied to the one or to the other of those two purposes, will sufficiently appear by and by.
Besides those two methods of borrowing, by anticipations and by a perpetual funding, there are two other methods, which hold a sort of middle place between them; these are, that of borrowing upon annuities for terms of years, and that of borrowing upon annuities for lives.
During the reigns of king William and queen Anne, large sums were frequently borrowed upon annuities for terms of years, which were sometimes longer and sometimes shorter. In 1695, an act was passed for borrowing one million upon an annuity of fourteen per cent., or £140,000 a-year, for sixteen years. In 1691, an act was passed for borrowing a million upon annuities for lives, upon terms which, in the present times, would appear very advantageous; but the subscription was not filled up. In the following year, the deficiency was made good, by borrowing upon annuities for lives, at fourteen per cent. or a little more than seven years purchase. In 1695, the persons who had purchased those annuities were allowed to exchange them for others of ninety-six years, upon paying into the exchequer sixty-three pounds in the hundred; that is, the difference between fourteen per cent. for life, and fourteen per cent. for ninety-six years, was sold for sixty-three pounds, or for four and a-half years purchase. Such was the supposed instability of government, that even these terms procured few purchasers. In the reign of queen Anne, money was, upon different occasions, borrowed both upon annuities for lives, and upon annuities for terms of thirty-two, of eighty-nine, of ninety-eight, and of ninety-nine years. In 1719, the proprietors of the annuities for thirty-two years were induced to accept, in lieu of them, South-sea stock to the amount of eleven and a-half years purchase of the annuities, together with an additional quantity of stock, equal to the arrears which happened then to be due upon them. In 1720, the greater part of the other annuities for terms of years, both long and short, were subscribed into the same fund. The long annuities, at that time, amounted to £666,821: 8:3½ a-year. On the 5th of January 1775, the remainder of them, or what was not subscribed at that time, amounted only to £136,453:12:8d.
During the two wars which began in 1739 and in 1755, little money was borrowed, either upon annuities for terms of years, or upon those for lives. An annuity for ninety-eight or ninety-nine years, however, is worth nearly as much as a perpetuity, and should therefore, one might think, be a fund for borrowing nearly as much. But those who, in order to make family settlements, and to provide for remote futurity, buy into the public stocks, would not care to purchase into one of which the value was continually diminishing; and such people make a very considerable proportion, both of the proprietors and purchasers of stock. An annuity for a long term of years, therefore, though its intrinsic value may be very nearly the same with that of a perpetual annuity, will not find nearly the same number of purchasers. The subscribers to a new loan, who mean generally to sell their subscription as soon as possible, prefer greatly a perpetual annuity, redeemable by parliament, to an irredeemable annuity, for a long term of years, of only equal amount. The value of the former may be supposed always the same, or very nearly the same; and it makes, therefore, a more convenient transferable stock than the latter.
During the two last-mentioned wars, annuities, either for terms of years or for lives, were seldom granted, but as premiums to the subscribers of a new loan, over and above the redeemable annuity or interest, upon the credit of which the loan was supposed to be made. They were granted, not as the proper fund upon which the money was borrowed, but as an additional encouragement to the lender.
Annuities for lives have occasionally been granted in two different ways; either upon separate lives, or upon lots of lives, which, in French, are called tontines, from the name of their inventor. When annuities are granted upon separate lives, the death of every individual annuitant disburdens the public revenue, so far as it was affected by his annuity. When annuities are granted upon tontines, the liberation of the public revenue does not commence till the death of all the annuitants comprehended in one lot, which may sometimes consist of twenty or thirty persons, of whom the survivors succeed to the annuities of all those who die before them; the last survivor succeeding to the annuities of the whole lot. Upon the same revenue, more money can always be raised by tontines than by annuities for separate lives. An annuity, with a right of survivorship, is really worth more than an equal annuity for a separate life; and, from the confidence which every man naturally has in his own good fortune, the principle upon which is founded the success of all lotteries, such an annuity generally sells for something more than it is worth. In countries where it is usual for government to raise money by granting annuities, tontines are, upon this account, generally preferred to annuities for separate lives. The expedient which will raise most money, is almost always preferred to that which is likely to bring about, in the speediest manner, the liberation of the public revenue.
In France, a much greater proportion of the public debts consists in annuities for lives than in England. According to a memoir presented by the parliament of Bourdeaux to the king, in 1764, the whole public debt of France is estimated at twenty-four hundred millions of livres; of which the capital, for which annuities for lives had been granted, is supposed to amount to three hundred millions, the eighth part of the whole public debt. The annuities themselves are computed to amount to thirty millions a-year, the fourth part of one hundred and twenty millions, the supposed interest of that whole debt. These estimations, I know very well, are not exact; but having been presented by so very respectable a body as approximations to the truth, they may, I apprehend, be considered as such. It is not the different degrees of anxiety in the two governments of France and England for the liberation of the public revenue, which occasions this difference in their respective modes of borrowing; it arises altogether from the different views and interests of the lenders.
English
In Great Britain the annual land and malt taxes are regularly anticipated each year under a borrowing clause consistently inserted in the acts imposing them. The bank of England generally advances the sums for which those taxes are granted at interest that has varied since the Revolution from eight to three per cent., and receives repayment as the proceeds gradually come in. Any shortfall, and there is always one, is covered by the next year's supplies. Thus the only substantial part of public revenue not yet mortgaged is regularly spent before it is received. Like an improvident spendthrift whose urgent needs prevent him from waiting for his income to arrive in the usual course, the state continually borrows from its own agents and factors, paying interest to use its own money.
In the reign of king William and through much of queen Anne's, before perpetual funding had become as familiar as it is now, most new taxes were imposed for only a short term (four, five, six, or seven years), and much of each year's grants consisted of loans against anticipated proceeds from those taxes. Because the proceeds frequently fell short of paying principal and interest within the specified term, deficits arose, and the term had to be extended to cover them.
In 1697, under the 8th of William III., c. 20, deficits from several taxes were charged against what was then called the first general mortgage or fund. It consisted of an extension until the first of August 1706 of several different taxes that would otherwise have expired sooner, with their proceeds combined into one general fund. The deficits charged against this extended term amounted to £5,160,459: 14: 9½.
In 1701 those duties, together with some others, were further extended for the same purposes until the first of August 1710, and were called the second general mortgage or fund. The deficits charged against it amounted to £2,055,999: 7: 11½.
In 1707 those duties were extended again, as a fund for new loans, until the first of August 1712, and were called the third general mortgage or fund. The amount borrowed against it was £983,254:11:9¼.
In 1708 all those duties were continued further, as a fund for new loans, until the first of August 1714, and were called the fourth general mortgage or fund. The exceptions were the old subsidy of tonnage and poundage, only half of which entered this fund, and a duty on imported Scotch linen, abolished by the articles of union. The amount borrowed against it was £925,176:9:2¼.
In 1709 all those duties were continued further for the same purpose until the first of August 1716, and were called the fifth general mortgage or fund. The exception was the old subsidy of tonnage and poundage, now excluded from the fund altogether. The amount borrowed against it was £922,029:6s.
In 1710 those duties were extended again until the first of August 1720, and were called the sixth general mortgage or fund. The amount borrowed against it was £1,296,552:9:11¾.
In 1711 the same duties, then subject to four different anticipations, together with several others, were continued forever. They became a fund to pay interest on the capital of the South-sea company, which that year had advanced the government £9,177,967:15:4d to pay debts and cover deficits—the largest loan yet made at that time.
Before then, so far as I can determine, the principal—indeed the only—taxes imposed perpetually to pay interest on a debt were those paying interest on money advanced to the government by the bank and East-India company, and on money expected, but never received, from a proposed land bank. The bank fund then amounted to £3,375,027:17:10½ and paid an annuity or interest of £206,501:15:5d. The East-India fund amounted to £3,200,000 and paid an annuity or interest of £160,000; the bank fund paid six per cent. interest and the East-India fund five per cent.
In 1715, under the first of George I., c. 12, the various taxes mortgaged to pay the bank annuity were combined with several others, likewise made perpetual by this act, into one common fund called the aggregate fund. This fund was charged with paying not only the bank annuity but several other annuities and obligations of various kinds. It was later enlarged under the third of George I., c.8., and the fifth of George I., c. 3; the various duties then added were also made perpetual.
In 1717, under the third of George I., c. 7, several other taxes were made perpetual and combined in another common fund, called the general fund, to pay certain annuities amounting altogether to £724,849:6:10½.
As a result of these various acts, most taxes previously anticipated only for a short term of years became perpetual, forming a fund to pay not the principal but only the interest on money borrowed through successive anticipations against them.
If money had only ever been raised by anticipation, a few years would have freed public revenue from its obligations, provided the government took care not to burden a fund with more debt than it could repay within the term and not to anticipate its proceeds again before the first anticipation expired. But most European governments have been incapable of such care. They have often overburdened the fund even on the first anticipation; when they have not, they have generally made sure to overburden it with a second and third anticipation before the first has expired. Once the fund became wholly insufficient to pay both principal and interest on the money borrowed against it, it became necessary to charge it only with the interest, or with a perpetual annuity equal to the interest. Thus improvident anticipations necessarily gave rise to the still more ruinous practice of perpetual funding. Though this practice necessarily postpones the freeing of public revenue from a fixed date to one so indefinite that it is unlikely ever to arrive, it can always raise more money than the older method of anticipation. Once people have grown accustomed to it, they have therefore universally preferred it in great emergencies of state. Relieving the present emergency is always the main concern of those directly involved in public administration. They leave the future liberation of public revenue to posterity.
During queen Anne's reign, the market rate of interest fell from six to five per cent.; in the twelfth year of her reign, five per cent. was declared the highest lawful rate on money borrowed against private security. Soon after most temporary taxes in Great Britain had been made perpetual and distributed among the aggregate, South-sea, and general funds, public creditors, like private creditors, were persuaded to accept five per cent. interest. This saved one per cent. on the principal of most debts thus perpetually funded, or one-sixth of most annuities paid from those three great funds. The saving left a considerable surplus from the proceeds of the taxes combined in these funds beyond what was needed to pay the annuities now charged against them, laying the foundation for what has since been called the sinking fund. In 1717 it amounted to £523,454:7:7½. In 1727 interest on most public debt was reduced further to four per cent.; in 1753 and 1757 it was reduced to three and a-half and three per cent., respectively, further enlarging the sinking fund.
A sinking fund, though instituted to repay old debts, greatly facilitates the contraction of new ones. It is a supplementary fund always available to be mortgaged in support of another doubtful fund against which money is to be raised in a state emergency. Whether Great Britain's sinking fund has been used more often to repay old debts or to contract new ones will become clear shortly.
Besides these two borrowing methods—anticipation and perpetual funding—two other methods occupy a kind of middle ground: borrowing on annuities for fixed terms of years and borrowing on annuities for lives.
During the reigns of king William and queen Anne, large sums were often borrowed on annuities for terms of years, sometimes longer and sometimes shorter. In 1695 an act authorized a loan of one million against an annuity of fourteen per cent., or £140,000 a-year, for sixteen years. In 1691 an act authorized a loan of a million against annuities for lives on terms that would now seem very favorable; but subscriptions did not fill the loan. The next year the shortfall was made up by borrowing against annuities for lives at fourteen per cent., or a little more than seven years purchase. In 1695 those who had bought these annuities were allowed to exchange them for annuities lasting ninety-six years by paying sixty-three pounds in the hundred into the exchequer: that is, the difference between fourteen per cent. for life and fourteen per cent. for ninety-six years sold for sixty-three pounds, or four and a-half years purchase. So unstable was the government believed to be that even these terms attracted few buyers. During queen Anne's reign, money was borrowed on various occasions against both annuities for lives and annuities lasting thirty-two, eighty-nine, ninety-eight, and ninety-nine years. In 1719 holders of the thirty-two-year annuities were persuaded to accept instead South-sea stock worth eleven and a-half years purchase of the annuities, together with additional stock equal to the arrears then owed on them. In 1720 most of the other fixed-term annuities, long and short, were subscribed into the same fund. At that time the long annuities amounted to £666,821: 8:3½ a-year. On the 5th of January 1775, what remained of them, not having been subscribed at that time, amounted to only £136,453:12:8d.
During the two wars that began in 1739 and 1755, little money was borrowed against either fixed-term or life annuities. Yet an annuity lasting ninety-eight or ninety-nine years is worth almost as much as a perpetual one and might therefore be expected to support nearly as much borrowing. People who buy public stocks to make family settlements and provide for the distant future, however, would not wish to purchase an asset steadily declining in value; such people constitute a considerable share of both stockholders and stock purchasers. Thus a long fixed-term annuity, though almost equal in intrinsic value to a perpetual one, attracts far fewer buyers. Subscribers to a new loan, who generally intend to sell their subscriptions as soon as possible, strongly prefer a perpetual annuity redeemable by parliament to a nonredeemable annuity for a long term of years paying only the same amount. The former may be assumed always to retain the same value, or very nearly so, and is consequently more convenient as transferable stock than the latter.
During those last two wars, annuities for terms of years or for lives were seldom granted except as premiums to subscribers to a new loan, in addition to the redeemable annuity or interest on the strength of which the loan was supposed to be made. They were granted not as the actual fund against which the money was borrowed, but as an added incentive to the lender.
Life annuities have sometimes been granted in two ways: on separate lives or on groups of lives, called tontines in French after their inventor. With separate lives, each annuitant's death frees public revenue of the burden of that person's annuity. With tontines, public revenue begins to be freed only after every annuitant in a group has died. A group may contain twenty or thirty people, with the survivors succeeding to the annuities of all who die before them, and the last survivor succeeding to the annuities of the whole group. Tontines can always raise more money against the same revenue than separate life annuities. An annuity carrying survivorship rights is genuinely worth more than an equal annuity on a separate life; and because everyone naturally trusts in their own good fortune—the principle behind the success of all lotteries—such an annuity generally sells for more than it is worth. Consequently, in countries where governments commonly raise money by granting annuities, tontines are generally preferred to separate life annuities. The device that raises the most money is nearly always preferred to the one most likely to free public revenue soonest.
In France, life annuities account for a much larger share of public debt than in England. According to a memoir presented to the king by the parliament of Bourdeaux in 1764, France's entire public debt was estimated at twenty-four hundred millions of livres. Of this, the principal on which life annuities had been granted was thought to amount to three hundred millions, or an eighth of the whole public debt. The annuities themselves were estimated at thirty millions a-year, a fourth of the one hundred and twenty millions taken as interest on the whole debt. I know perfectly well these estimates are not exact; but, as a highly respected body presented them as approximations to the truth, I think we may regard them as such. This difference in how the French and English governments borrow does not arise from different degrees of concern to free public revenue from its obligations; it arises entirely from the differing aims and interests of their lenders.
Book V, Chapter III, 3
18th-century English
In England, the seat of government being in the greatest mercantile city in the world, the merchants are generally the people who advance money to government. By advancing it, they do not mean to diminish, but, on the contrary, to increase their mercantile capitals; and unless they expected to sell, with some profit, their share in the subscription for a new loan, they never would subscribe. But if, by advancing their money, they were to purchase, instead of perpetual annuities, annuities for lives only, whether their own or those of other people, they would not always be so likely to sell them with a profit. Annuities upon their own lives they would always sell with loss; because no man will give for an annuity upon the life of another, whose age and state of health are nearly the same with his own, the same price which he would give for one upon his own. An annuity upon the life of a third person, indeed, is, no doubt, of equal value to the buyer and the seller; but its real value begins to diminish from the moment it is granted, and continues to do so, more and more, as long as it subsists. It can never, therefore, make so convenient a transferable stock as a perpetual annuity, of which the real value may be supposed always the same, or very nearly the same.
In France, the seat of government not being in a great mercantile city, merchants do not make so great a proportion of the people who advance money to government. The people concerned in the finances, the farmers-general, the receivers of the taxes which are not in farm, the court-bankers, etc. make the greater part of those who advance their money in all public exigencies. Such people are commonly men of mean birth, but of great wealth, and frequently of great pride. They are too proud to marry their equals, and women of quality disdain to marry them. They frequently resolve, therefore, to live bachelors; and having neither any families of their own, nor much regard for those of their relations, whom they are not always very fond of acknowledging, they desire only to live in splendour during their own time, and are not unwilling that their fortune should end with themselves. The number of rich people, besides, who are either averse to marry, or whose condition of life renders it either improper or inconvenient for them to do so, is much greater in France than in England. To such people, who have little or no care for posterity, nothing can be more convenient than to exchange their capital for a revenue, which is to last just as long, and no longer, than they wish it to do.
The ordinary expense of the greater part of modern governments, in time of peace, being equal, or nearly equal, to their ordinary revenue, when war comes, they are both unwilling and unable to increase their revenue in proportion to the increase of their expense. They are unwilling, for fear of offending the people, who, by so great and so sudden an increase of taxes, would soon be disgusted with the war; and they are unable, from not well knowing what taxes would be sufficient to produce the revenue wanted. The facility of borrowing delivers them from the embarrassment which this fear and inability would otherwise occasion. By means of borrowing, they are enabled, with a very moderate increase of taxes, to raise, from year to year, money sufficient for carrying on the war; and by the practice of perpetual funding, they are enabled, with the smallest possible increase of taxes, to raise annually the largest possible sum of money. In great empires, the people who live in the capital, and in the provinces remote from the scene of action, feel, many of them, scarce any inconveniency from the war, but enjoy, at their ease, the amusement of reading in the newspapers the exploits of their own fleets and armies. To them this amusement compensates the small difference between the taxes which they pay on account of the war, and those which they had been accustomed to pay in time of peace. They are commonly dissatisfied with the return of peace, which puts an end to their amusement, and to a thousand visionary hopes of conquest and national glory, from a longer continuance of the war.
The return of peace, indeed, seldom relieves them from the greater part of the taxes imposed during the war. These are mortgaged for the interest of the debt contracted, in order to carry it on. If, over and above paying the interest of this debt, and defraying the ordinary expense of government, the old revenue, together with the new taxes, produce some surplus revenue, it may, perhaps, be converted into a sinking fund for paying off the debt. But, in the first place, this sinking fund, even supposing it should be applied to no other purpose, is generally altogether inadequate for paying, in the course of any period during which it can reasonably be expected that peace should continue, the whole debt contracted during the war; and, in the second place, this fund is almost always applied to other purposes.
The new taxes were imposed for the sole purpose of paying the interest of the money borrowed upon them. If they produce more, it is generally something which was neither intended nor expected, and is, therefore, seldom very considerable. Sinking funds have generally arisen, not so much from any surplus of the taxes which was over and above what was necessary for paying the interest or annuity originally charged upon them, as from a subsequent reduction of that interest; that of Holland in 1655, and that of the ecclesiastical state in 1685, were both formed in this manner. Hence the usual insufficiency of such funds.
During the most profound peace, various events occur, which require an extraordinary expense; and government finds it always more convenient to defray this expense by misapplying the sinking fund, than by imposing a new tax. Every new tax is immediately felt more or less by the people. It occasions always some murmur, and meets with some opposition. The more taxes may have been multiplied, the higher they may have been raised upon every different subject of taxation; the more loudly the people complain of every new tax, the more difficult it becomes, too, either to find out new subjects of taxation, or to raise much higher the taxes already imposed upon the old. A momentary suspension of the payment of debt is not immediately felt by the people, and occasions neither murmur nor complaint. To borrow of the sinking fund is always an obvious and easy expedient for getting out of the present difficulty. The more the public debts may have been accumulated, the more necessary it may have become to study to reduce them; the more dangerous, the more ruinous it may be to misapply any part of the sinking fund; the less likely is the public debt to be reduced to any considerable degree, the more likely, the more certainly, is the sinking fund to be misapplied towards defraying all the extraordinary expenses which occur in time of peace. When a nation is already overburdened with taxes, nothing but the necessities of a new war, nothing but either the animosity of national vengeance, or the anxiety for national security, can induce the people to submit, with tolerable patience, to a new tax. Hence the usual misapplication of the sinking fund.
In Great Britain, from the time that we had first recourse to the ruinous expedient of perpetual funding, the reduction of the public debt, in time of peace, has never borne any proportion to its accumulation in time of war. It was in the war which began in 1668, and was concluded by the treaty of Ryswick, in 1697, that the foundation of the present enormous debt of Great Britain was first laid.
On the 31st of December 1697, the public debts of Great Britain, funded and unfunded, amounted to £21,515,742:13:8½. A great part of those debts had been contracted upon short anticipations, and some part upon annuities for lives; so that, before the 31st of December 1701, in less than four years, there had partly been paid off; and partly reverted to the public, the sum of £5,121,041:12:0¾d; a greater reduction of the public debt than has ever since been brought about in so short a period of time. The remaining debt, therefore, amounted only to £16,394,701:1:7¼d.
In the war which began in 1702, and which was concluded by the treaty of Utrecht, the public debts were still more accumulated. On the 31st of December 1714, they amounted to £53,681,076:5:6½. The subscription into the South-sea fund, of the short and long annuities, increased the capital of the public debt; so that, on the 31st of December 1722, it amounted to £55,282,978:1:3 ⅚. The reduction of the debt began in 1723, and went on so slowly, that, on the 31st of December 1739, during seventeen years-of profound peace, the whole sum paid off was no more than £8,328,554:17:11 ³⁄₁₂, the capital of the public debt, at that time, amounting to £46,954,623:3:4 ⁷⁄₁₂.
The Spanish war, which began in 1739, and the French war which soon followed it, occasioned a further increase of the debt, which, on the 31st of December 1748, after the war had been concluded by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, amounted to £78,293,313:1:10¾. The most profound peace, of 17 years continuance, had taken no more than £8,328,354, 17:11¼ from it. A war, of less than nine years continuance, added £31,338,689:18: 6 ⅙ to it. {See James Postlethwaite’s History of the Public Revenue.}
During the administration of Mr Pelham, the interest of the public debt was reduced, or at least measures were taken for reducing it, from four to three per cent.; the sinking fund was increased, and some part of the public debt was paid off. In 1755, before the breaking out of the late war, the funded debt of Great Britain amounted to £72,289,675. On the 5th of January 1763, at the conclusion of the peace, the funded debt amounted debt to £122,603,336:8:2¼. The unfunded debt has been stated at £13,927,589:2:2. But the expense occasioned by the war did not end with the conclusion of the peace; so that, though on the 5th of January 1764, the funded debt was increased (partly by a new loan, and partly by funding a part of the unfunded debt) to £129,586,789:10:1¾, there still remained (according to the very well informed author of Considerations on the Trade and Finances of Great Britain) an unfunded debt, which was brought to account in that and the following year, of £9,975,017: 12:2 ¹⁵⁄₄₄d. In 1764, therefore, the public debt of Great Britain, funded and unfunded together, amounted, according to this author, to £139,561,807:2:4. The annuities for lives, too, which had been granted as premiums to the subscribers to the new loans in 1757, estimated at fourteen years purchase, were valued at £472,500; and the annuities for long terms of years, granted as premiums likewise, in 1761 and 1762, estimated at twenty-seven and a-half years purchase, were valued at £6,826,875. During a peace of about seven years continuance, the prudent and truly patriotic administration of Mr Pelham was not able to pay off an old debt of six millions. During a war of nearly the same continuance, a new debt of more than seventy-five millions was contracted.
On the 5th of January 1775, the funded debt of Great Britain amounted to £124,996,086, 1:6¼d. The unfunded, exclusive of a large civil-list debt, to £4,150,236:3:11 ⅞. Both together, to £129,146,322:5:6. According to this account, the whole debt paid off, during eleven years of profound peace, amounted only to £10,415,476:16:9 ⅞. Even this small reduction of debt, however, has not been all made from the savings out of the ordinary revenue of the state. Several extraneous sums, altogether independent of that ordinary revenue, have contributed towards it. Amongst these we may reckon an additional shilling in the pound land tax, for three years; the two millions received from the East-India company, as indemnification for their territorial acquisitions; and the one hundred and ten thousand pounds received from the bank for the renewal of their charter. To these must be added several other sums, which, as they arose out of the late war, ought perhaps to be considered as deductions from the expenses of it. The principal are,
The produce of French prizes.............. £690,449: 18: 9 Composition for French prisoners......... 670,000: 0: 0
What has been received from the sale of the ceded islands......................... 95,500: 0: 0
Total,.....................................£1,455,949: 18: 9
If we add to this sum the balance of the earl of Chatham’s and Mr Calcraft’s accounts, and other army savings of the same kind, together with what has been received from the bank, the East-India company, and the additional shilling in the pound land tax, the whole must be a good deal more than five millions. The debt, therefore, which, since the peace, has been paid out of the savings from the ordinary revenue of the state, has not, one year with another, amounted to half a million a-year. The sinking fund has, no doubt, been considerably augmented since the peace, by the debt which had been paid off, by the reduction of the redeemable four per cents to three per cents, and by the annuities for lives which have fallen in; and, if peace were to continue, a million, perhaps, might now be annually spared out of it towards the discharge of the debt. Another million, accordingly, was paid in the course of last year; but at the same time, a large civil-list debt was left unpaid, and we are now involved in a new war, which, in its progress, may prove as expensive as any of our former wars. {It has proved more expensive than any one of our former wars, and has involved us in an additional debt of more than one hundred millions. During a profound peace of eleven years, little more than ten millions of debt was paid; during a war of seven years, more than one hundred millions was contracted.} The new debt which will probably be contracted before the end of the next campaign, may, perhaps, be nearly equal to all the old debt which has been paid off from the savings out of the ordinary revenue of the state. It would be altogether chimerical, therefore, to expect that the public debt should ever be completely discharged, by any savings which are likely to be made from that ordinary revenue as it stands at present.
English
In England, where the seat of government is the world's greatest commercial city, merchants are generally the people who advance money to the government. They advance it not to reduce their commercial capital but to increase it; unless they expected to sell their share of a new loan subscription at some profit, they would never subscribe. But if, in return for their money, they received only life annuities rather than perpetual ones, whether based on their own lives or on others', they could not always expect to sell them at a profit. They would always sell annuities on their own lives at a loss, since nobody would pay as much for an annuity on the life of someone else, however similar that person's age and health to their own, as for one on their own life. An annuity on a third person's life is no doubt worth the same to buyer and seller; but its real value begins to decline as soon as it is granted and continues to decline ever more as long as it exists. It can therefore never be as convenient a transferable stock as a perpetual annuity, whose real value may be assumed to remain always, or almost always, the same.
In France, because the seat of government is not a great commercial city, merchants make up a smaller share of those who advance money to the government. Those engaged in finance—the farmers-general, collectors of taxes not farmed out, court bankers, etc.—provide most of the money advanced in every public emergency. Such people are commonly of humble birth but great wealth and often great pride. They are too proud to marry their equals, while women of rank disdain to marry them. They therefore often decide to remain bachelors; lacking families of their own and caring little for their relatives, whom they are not always eager to acknowledge, they seek only to live splendidly in their own time and do not mind if their fortunes end with them. Moreover, there are many more rich people in France than in England who either do not wish to marry or whose way of life makes marriage improper or inconvenient. For people with little or no concern for posterity, nothing could be more convenient than exchanging their capital for an income lasting precisely as long as they wish, and no longer.
The ordinary expenses of most modern governments in peacetime equal or nearly equal their ordinary revenue. When war begins, they are therefore both unwilling and unable to increase revenue in proportion to expenses. They are unwilling because they fear offending the people, who would soon grow disgusted with the war if taxes rose so sharply and suddenly; they are unable because they do not really know which taxes would raise the revenue needed. Easy borrowing spares them the difficulties that this fear and inability would otherwise cause. By borrowing, they can obtain enough money each year to wage war with only a modest rise in taxes; through perpetual funding they can raise the greatest possible sum annually with the smallest possible tax increase. In great empires, many who live in the capital or in provinces far from the fighting scarcely suffer any inconvenience from war. Instead they enjoy at leisure the entertainment of reading newspaper reports of their fleets' and armies' exploits. To them this entertainment makes up for the small difference between the taxes paid because of war and those they had been accustomed to paying in peace. They are commonly unhappy when peace returns, ending both their entertainment and a thousand imaginary hopes of conquest and national glory through a longer war.
Indeed, peace seldom relieves them of most taxes imposed during the war. Those taxes are mortgaged to pay interest on the debt contracted to conduct it. If the old revenue together with the new taxes yields a surplus after covering this interest and the government's ordinary expenses, perhaps the surplus can become a sinking fund to repay the debt. But first, even if used for no other purpose, such a sinking fund is generally wholly inadequate to repay the entire wartime debt within any period over which peace can reasonably be expected to last; second, the fund is almost always used for other purposes.
The new taxes were imposed solely to pay interest on the loans raised against them. Any excess they yield is generally unintended and unexpected, and therefore seldom substantial. Sinking funds have usually arisen less from tax proceeds exceeding the interest or annuity originally charged against them than from a subsequent reduction of that interest. Both Holland's sinking fund in 1655 and that of the ecclesiastical state in 1685 were formed in this way. Hence the usual inadequacy of such funds.
Even in the deepest peace, various events call for extraordinary spending, and governments always find it easier to meet these expenses by diverting the sinking fund than by imposing a new tax. Every new tax is immediately felt to some degree by the people; it always provokes some grumbling and opposition. The more numerous the taxes and the heavier the burden on every taxable object, the louder the complaints about each new tax, and the harder it becomes either to find new objects to tax or to raise existing taxes much further. A temporary suspension of debt repayment is not immediately felt by the people and provokes neither grumbling nor complaint. Borrowing from the sinking fund is always an obvious, easy way out of the present difficulty. The more public debt has accumulated, the more urgently it must be reduced; the more dangerous and ruinous it is to divert any part of the sinking fund, the less likely the debt is to be reduced substantially and the more likely—indeed, the more certain—the sinking fund is to be diverted to cover every extraordinary expense arising in peacetime. Once a nation is already overburdened with taxes, nothing but the needs of another war, the passion for national vengeance, or anxiety for national security can induce people to accept another tax with tolerable patience. Hence the usual diversion of the sinking fund.
In Great Britain, ever since we first resorted to the ruinous device of perpetual funding, peacetime reductions in the public debt have never been proportionate to its wartime growth. The foundation of Britain's present enormous debt was laid in the war which began in 1668 and ended with the treaty of Ryswick, in 1697.
On the 31st of December 1697, Great Britain's funded and unfunded public debts amounted to £21,515,742:13:8½. Much of this debt had been contracted on short anticipations, and some on life annuities; consequently, before the 31st of December 1701, in less than four years, £5,121,041:12:0¾d had either been paid off or reverted to the public. This was a greater reduction of public debt than has ever since occurred in so short a time. The remaining debt thus amounted to only £16,394,701:1:7¼d.
In the war that began in 1702 and ended with the treaty of Utrecht, public debts accumulated further. On the 31st of December 1714 they stood at £53,681,076:5:6½. Subscribing the short and long annuities into the South-sea fund increased the principal of the public debt, so that on the 31st of December 1722 it stood at £55,282,978:1:3 ⅚. Reduction began in 1723 but proceeded so slowly that by the 31st of December 1739, after seventeen years of profound peace, the entire sum repaid was only £8,328,554:17:11 ³⁄₁₂; the principal of the public debt then stood at £46,954,623:3:4 ⁷⁄₁₂.
The Spanish war, which began in 1739, and the French war soon following it brought a further increase in the debt. On the 31st of December 1748, after the war ended with the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, it amounted to £78,293,313:1:10¾. The deepest peace, lasting 17 years, had reduced it by only £8,328,354, 17:11¼. A war lasting less than nine years had added £31,338,689:18: 6 ⅙. [See James Postlethwaite's History of the Public Revenue.]
During Mr Pelham's administration, the interest on the public debt was reduced, or at least steps were taken to reduce it, from four to three per cent.; the sinking fund grew, and some public debt was paid off. In 1755, before the outbreak of the late war, Britain's funded debt amounted to £72,289,675. On the 5th of January 1763, at the peace settlement, the funded debt amounted to £122,603,336:8:2¼. The unfunded debt has been put at £13,927,589:2:2. But the expenses arising from the war did not end when peace was concluded. Thus, although on the 5th of January 1764 the funded debt rose, partly through a new loan and partly through funding some unfunded debt, to £129,586,789:10:1¾, there still remained, according to the very well-informed author of Considerations on the Trade and Finances of Great Britain, an unfunded debt entered in the accounts that year and the next of £9,975,017: 12:2 ¹⁵⁄₄₄d. In 1764, therefore, Britain's combined funded and unfunded public debt amounted, according to that author, to £139,561,807:2:4. The life annuities awarded as premiums to subscribers to the new loans in 1757, valued at fourteen years purchase, were also estimated at £472,500; long-term annuities likewise awarded as premiums in 1761 and 1762, valued at twenty-seven and a-half years purchase, were estimated at £6,826,875. During about seven years of peace, the prudent and truly patriotic administration of Mr Pelham could not pay off an old debt of six millions. During a war lasting nearly as long, a new debt exceeding seventy-five millions was contracted.
On the 5th of January 1775 Britain's funded debt amounted to £124,996,086, 1:6¼d; its unfunded debt, excluding a large civil-list debt, to £4,150,236:3:11 ⅞; and the two together to £129,146,322:5:6. On these figures, the entire debt repaid during eleven years of profound peace amounted to only £10,415,476:16:9 ⅞. Yet even this small reduction did not come entirely from savings in the state's ordinary revenue. Several other sums, wholly independent of that revenue, helped to pay it. These include an additional shilling in the pound land tax for three years; the two millions received from the East-India company in compensation for its territorial acquisitions; and the one hundred and ten thousand pounds received from the bank for renewal of its charter. We must add several further sums which, since they arose from the late war, should perhaps count as deductions from its costs. The principal are,
Proceeds from French prizes.............. £690,449: 18: 9 Payment for French prisoners............ 670,000: 0: 0
Received from the sale of the ceded islands.................................. 95,500: 0: 0
Total,.....................................£1,455,949: 18: 9
If to this sum we add the balance of the earl of Chatham's and Mr Calcraft's accounts, and other army savings of the same kind, together with receipts from the bank and the East-India company and the additional shilling in the pound land tax, the total must be considerably more than five millions. Thus the debt repaid since the peace from savings in the state's ordinary revenue has averaged less than half a million a year. The sinking fund has undoubtedly grown substantially since the peace through repayment of debt, reduction of the redeemable four per cents to three per cents, and expiration of life annuities. If peace continued, perhaps a million could now be spared from it annually to repay debt. Another million was indeed paid in the course of last year; but at the same time a large civil-list debt remained unpaid, and we are now caught in a new war that may, as it advances, prove as costly as any former war. [It has proved more costly than any one of our former wars and has involved us in an additional debt of more than one hundred millions. During eleven years of profound peace, little more than ten millions of debt was paid; during seven years of war, more than one hundred millions was contracted.] The new debt likely to be contracted before the end of the next campaign may nearly equal all the old debt paid off from savings in the state's ordinary revenue. It would therefore be sheer fantasy to expect the public debt ever to be completely repaid from any savings likely to be made from that ordinary revenue as it now stands.
Book V, Chapter III, 4
18th-century English
The public funds of the different indebted nations of Europe, particularly those of England, have, by one author, been represented as the accumulation of a great capital, superadded to the other capital of the country, by means of which its trade is extended, its manufactures are multiplied, and its lands cultivated and improved, much beyond what they could have been by means of that other capital only. He does not consider that the capital which the first creditors of the public advanced to government, was, from the moment in which he advanced it, a certain portion of the annual produce, turned away from serving in the function of a capital, to serve in that of a revenue; from maintaining productive labourers, to maintain unproductive ones, and to be spent and wasted, generally in the course of the year, without even the hope of any future reproduction. In return for the capital which they advanced, they obtained, indeed, an annuity of the public funds, in most cases, of more than equal value. This annuity, no doubt, replaced to them their capital, and enabled them to carry on their trade and business to the same, or, perhaps, to a greater extent than before; that is, they were enabled, either to borrow of other people a new capital, upon the credit of this annuity or, by selling it, to get from other people a new capital of their own, equal, or superior, to that which they had advanced to government. This new capital, however, which they in this manner either bought or borrowed of other people, must have existed in the country before, and must have been employed, as all capitals are, in maintaining productive labour. When it came into the hands of those who had advanced their money to government, though it was, in some respects, a new capital to them, it was not so to the country, but was only a capital withdrawn from certain employments, in order to be turned towards others. Though it replaced to them what they had advanced to government, it did not replace it to the country. Had they not advanced this capital to government, there would have been in the country two capitals, two portions of the annual produce, instead of one, employed in maintaining productive labour.
When, for defraying the expense of government, a revenue is raised within the year, from the produce of free or unmortgaged taxes, a certain portion of the revenue of private people is only turned away from maintaining one species of unproductive labour, towards maintaining another. Some part of what they pay in those taxes, might, no doubt, have been accumulated into capital, and consequently employed in maintaining productive labour; but the greater part would probably have been spent, and consequently employed in maintaining unproductive labour. The public expense, however, when defrayed in this manner, no doubt hinders, more or less, the further accumulation of new capital; but it does not necessarily occasion the destruction of any actually-existing capital.
When the public expense is defrayed by funding, it is defrayed by the annual destruction of some capital which had before existed in the country; by the perversion of some portion of the annual produce which had before been destined for the maintenance of productive labour, towards that of unproductive labour. As in this case, however, the taxes are lighter than they would have been, had a revenue sufficient for defraying the same expense been raised within the year; the private revenue of individuals is necessarily less burdened, and consequently their ability to save and accumulate some part of that revenue into capital, is a good deal less impaired. If the method of funding destroys more old capital, it, at the same time, hinders less the accumulation or acquisition of new capital, than that of defraying the public expense by a revenue raised within the year. Under the system of funding, the frugality and industry of private people can more easily repair the breaches which the waste and extravagance of government may occasionally make in the general capital of the society.
It is only during the continuance of war, however, that the system of funding has this advantage over the other system. Were the expense of war to be defrayed always by a revenue raised within the year, the taxes from which that extraordinary revenue was drawn would last no longer than the war. The ability of private people to accumulate, though less during the war, would have been greater during the peace, than under the system of funding. War would not necessarily have occasioned the destruction of any old capitals, and peace would have occasioned the accumulation of many more new. Wars would, in general, be more speedily concluded, and less wantonly undertaken. The people feeling, during continuance of war, the complete burden of it, would soon grow weary of it; and government, in order to humour them, would not be under the necessity of carrying it on longer than it was necessary to do so. The foresight of the heavy and unavoidable burdens of war would hinder the people from wantonly calling for it when there was no real or solid interest to fight for. The seasons during which the ability of private people to accumulate was somewhat impaired, would occur more rarely, and be of shorter continuance. Those, on the contrary, during which that ability was in the highest vigour would be of much longer duration than they can well be under the system of funding.
When funding, besides, has made a certain progress, the multiplication of taxes which it brings along with it, sometimes impairs as much the ability of private people to accumulate, even in time of peace, as the other system would in time of war. The peace revenue of Great Britain amounts at present to more than ten millions a-year. If free and unmortgaged, it might be sufficient, with proper management, and without contracting a shilling of new debt, to carry on the most vigorous war. The private revenue of the inhabitants of Great Britain is at present as much incumbered in time of peace, their ability to accumulate is as much impaired, as it would have been in the time of the most expensive war, had the pernicious system of funding never been adopted.
In the payment of the interest of the public debt, it has been said, it is the right hand which pays the left. The money does not go out of the country. It is only a part of the revenue of one set of the inhabitants which is transferred to another; and the nation is not a farthing the poorer. This apology is founded altogether in the sophistry of the mercantile system; and, after the long examination which I have already bestowed upon that system, it may, perhaps, be unnecessary to say anything further about it. It supposes, besides, that the whole public debt is owing to the inhabitants of the country, which happens not to be true; the Dutch, as well as several other foreign nations, having a very considerable share in our public funds. But though the whole debt were owing to the inhabitants of the country, it would not, upon that account, be less pernicious.
Land and capital stock are the two original sources of all revenue, both private and public. Capital stock pays the wages of productive labour, whether employed in agriculture, manufactures, or commerce. The management of those two original sources of revenue belongs to two different sets of people; the proprietors of land, and the owners or employers of capital stock.
The proprietor of land is interested, for the sake of his own revenue, to keep his estate in as good condition as he can, by building and repairing his tenants houses, by making and maintaining the necessary drains and inclosures, and all those other expensive improvements which it properly belongs to the landlord to make and maintain. But, by different land taxes, the revenue of the landlord may be so much diminished, and, by different duties upon the necessaries and conveniencies of life, that diminished revenue may be rendered of so little real value, that he may find himself altogether unable to make or maintain those expensive improvements. When the landlord, however, ceases to do his part, it is altogether impossible that the tenant should continue to do his. As the distress of the landlord increases, the agriculture of the country must necessarily decline.
When, by different taxes upon the necessaries and conveniencies of life, the owners and employers of capital stock find, that whatever revenue they derive from it, will not, in a particular country, purchase the same quantity of those necessaries and conveniencies which an equal revenue would in almost any other, they will be disposed to remove to some other. And when, in order to raise those taxes, all or the greater part of merchants and manufacturers, that is, all or the greater part of the employers of great capitals, come to be continually exposed to the mortifying and vexatious visits of the tax-gatherers, this disposition to remove will soon be changed into an actual removing. The industry of the country will necessarily fall with the removal of the capital which supported it, and the ruin of trade and manufactures will follow the declension of agriculture.
To transfer from the owners of those two great sources of revenue, land, and capital stock, from the persons immediately interested in the good condition of every particular portion of land, and in the good management of every particular portion of capital stock, to another set of persons (the creditors of the public, who have no such particular interest), the greater part of the revenue arising from either, must, in the long-run, occasion both the neglect of land, and the waste or removal of capital stock. A creditor of the public has, no doubt, a general interest in the prosperity of the agriculture, manufactures, and commerce of the country; and consequently in the good condition of its land, and in the good management of its capital stock. Should there be any general failure or declension in any of these things, the produce of the different taxes might no longer be sufficient to pay him the annuity or interest which is due to him. But a creditor of the public, considered merely as such, has no interest in the good condition of any particular portion of land, or in the good management of any particular portion of capital stock. As a creditor of the public, he has no knowledge of any such particular portion. He has no inspection of it. He can have no care about it. Its ruin may in some cases be unknown to him, and cannot directly affect him.
The practice of funding has gradually enfeebled every state which has adopted it. The Italian republics seem to have begun it. Genoa and Venice, the only two remaining which can pretend to an independent existence, have both been enfeebled by it. Spain seems to have learned the practice from the Italian republics, and (its taxes being probably less judicious than theirs) it has, in proportion to its natural strength, been-still more enfeebled. The debts of Spain are of very old standing. It was deeply in debt before the end of the sixteenth century, about a hundred years before England owed a shilling. France, notwithstanding all its natural resources, languishes under an oppressive load of the same kind. The republic of the United Provinces is as much enfeebled by its debts as either Genoa or Venice. Is it likely that, in Great Britain alone, a practice, which has brought either weakness or dissolution into every other country, should prove altogether innocent?
The system of taxation established in those different countries, it may be said, is inferior to that of England. I believe it is so. But it ought to be remembered, that when the wisest government has exhausted all the proper subjects of taxation, it must, in cases of urgent necessity, have recourse to improper ones. The wise republic of Holland has, upon some occasions, been obliged to have recourse to taxes as inconvenient as the greater part of those of Spain. Another war, begun before any considerable liberation of the public revenue had been brought about, and growing in its progress as expensive as the last war, may, from irresistible necessity, render the British system of taxation as oppressive as that of Holland, or even as that of Spain. To the honour of our present system of taxation, indeed, it has hitherto given so little embarrassment to industry, that, during the course even of the most expensive wars, the frugality and good conduct of individuals seem to have been able, by saving and accumulation, to repair all the breaches which the waste and extravagance of government had made in the general capital of the society. At the conclusion of the late war, the most expensive that Great Britain ever waged, her agriculture was as flourishing, her manufacturers as numerous and as fully employed, and her commerce as extensive, as they had ever been before. The capital, therefore, which supported all those different branches of industry, must have been equal to what it had ever been before. Since the peace, agriculture has been still further improved; the rents of houses have risen in every town and village of the country, a proof of the increasing wealth and revenue of the people; and the annual amount of the greater part of the old taxes, of the principal branches of the excise and customs, in particular, has been continually increasing, an equally clear proof of an increasing consumption, and consequently of an increasing produce, which could alone support that consumption. Great Britain seems to support with ease, a burden which, half a century ago, nobody believed her capable of supporting, Let us not, however, upon this account, rashly conclude that she is capable of supporting any burden; nor even be too confident that she could support, without great distress, a burden a little greater than what has already been laid upon her.
When national debts have once been accumulated to a certain degree, there is scarce, I believe, a single instance of their having been fairly and completely paid. The liberation of the public revenue, if it has ever been brought about at all, has always been brought about by a bankruptcy; sometimes by an avowed one, though frequently by a pretended payment.
English
One author has portrayed the public funds of Europe's indebted nations, particularly England's, as the accumulation of a great capital added to the country's other capital. By its means, he says, trade expands, manufactures multiply, and land is cultivated and improved far beyond what the other capital alone could have achieved. He overlooks the fact that the capital the public's first creditors advanced to the government was, from the moment they advanced it, a portion of the annual produce diverted from serving as capital to serving as revenue: from maintaining productive laborers to maintaining unproductive ones, and to being spent and wasted, generally within the year, without even the prospect of future reproduction. In return for their advance, those creditors did indeed obtain an annuity from the public funds, in most cases worth more than what they had advanced. That annuity undoubtedly replaced their capital for them and enabled them to carry on their trade and business as extensively as before, or perhaps more so. They could either borrow new capital from others on the credit of the annuity or sell it and obtain from others new capital of their own, equal or superior to what they had advanced to the government. Yet the new capital they thus bought or borrowed must already have existed in the country and, like all capital, must have been employed in maintaining productive labor. When it reached the hands of those who had lent to the government, it was in some respects new capital to them, but not to the country: it was merely capital withdrawn from some employments and directed toward others. Although it replaced what they had advanced to the government, it did not replace it for the country. Had they not advanced that capital, the country would have had two capitals, two portions of its annual produce, rather than one, employed in maintaining productive labor.
When a revenue raised within the year from the proceeds of free, unmortgaged taxes pays the government's expenses, a portion of private people's revenue is merely diverted from maintaining one kind of unproductive labor to maintaining another. Some of what they pay in such taxes might, certainly, have been accumulated as capital and employed in maintaining productive labor. But most of it would probably have been spent, and thus employed in maintaining unproductive labor. Public expenditure paid in this way undoubtedly obstructs, to some degree, the further accumulation of new capital; it does not necessarily destroy any capital already in existence.
When public expenditure is met by funding, it is met through the yearly destruction of capital that previously existed in the country: a portion of the annual produce formerly intended to maintain productive labor is turned to the maintenance of unproductive labor. In this case, however, taxes are lighter than they would have been if enough revenue to meet the same expense had been raised within the year. Individuals' private revenue is therefore less burdened, and their ability to save and accumulate some of it as capital is correspondingly less impaired. Funding destroys more old capital but, at the same time, obstructs the accumulation or acquisition of new capital less than paying public expenses with revenue raised within the year. Under funding, the thrift and industry of private people can more readily repair the breaches that the government's waste and extravagance sometimes make in society's general capital.
Funding has this advantage over the other system, however, only while war continues. If the cost of war were always met with revenue raised within the year, the taxes that yielded that extraordinary revenue would end with the war. Private people's ability to accumulate, though reduced during war, would be greater during peace than under funding. War would not necessarily destroy any old capital, and peace would bring the accumulation of far more new capital. Wars would generally end sooner and be undertaken less wantonly. Feeling the full burden of war while it lasted, the people would soon tire of it; and the government, to accommodate them, would not have to carry it on longer than necessary. Anticipation of war's heavy and unavoidable burdens would keep the people from clamoring for it when no real or substantial interest was at stake. Periods when private people's ability to accumulate was somewhat impaired would be rarer and shorter. Periods when that ability was at its strongest, by contrast, would last much longer than they can under funding.
Furthermore, once funding has advanced far enough, the multiplication of taxes it brings sometimes impairs private people's ability to accumulate even in peace as much as the other system would in war. Great Britain's peacetime revenue now exceeds ten millions a year. If free and unmortgaged, it might, with proper management and without incurring a shilling of new debt, suffice to conduct the most vigorous war. The private revenue of Great Britain's inhabitants is now as encumbered in peace, and their ability to accumulate as impaired, as it would have been during the most expensive war if the pernicious system of funding had never been adopted.
It has been said that, when interest on the public debt is paid, the right hand pays the left. The money stays in the country. One group of inhabitants merely transfers part of its revenue to another, and the nation is not a farthing poorer. This defense rests entirely on the sophistry of the mercantile system; after the long examination I have already devoted to that system, perhaps nothing more need be said about it. It also assumes that the entire public debt is owed to the country's inhabitants, which is untrue: the Dutch and several other foreign nations hold a very considerable share of our public funds. But even if the entire debt were owed to the country's inhabitants, it would be no less pernicious for that reason.
Land and capital stock are the two original sources of all revenue, private and public. Capital stock pays the wages of productive labor, whether employed in agriculture, manufactures, or commerce. The management of these two original sources of revenue belongs to two distinct groups: proprietors of land and owners or employers of capital stock.
To protect his own revenue, the proprietor of land has an interest in keeping his estate in the best condition he can: building and repairing his tenants' houses, constructing and maintaining necessary drains and enclosures, and making all the other costly improvements that properly fall to a landlord to make and maintain. But various land taxes may so reduce his revenue, and duties on life's necessities and conveniences may so diminish the real value of what remains, that he finds himself wholly unable to make or maintain those costly improvements. Once the landlord ceases to do his part, the tenant cannot possibly continue doing his. As the landlord's distress grows, the country's agriculture must decline.
When various taxes on life's necessities and conveniences lead the owners and employers of capital stock to find that the revenue they derive from it will buy less of those things in one country than an equal revenue would buy in almost any other, they will be inclined to move elsewhere. And when raising those taxes exposes all or most merchants and manufacturers—that is, all or most employers of great capitals—to continual, humiliating, and vexatious visits from tax collectors, the inclination to move will soon become a move in fact. With the departure of the capital that supported it, the country's industry must fall; the ruin of trade and manufactures will follow the decline of agriculture.
To transfer the greater part of the revenue arising from land and capital stock away from their owners—the people directly concerned with the condition of every particular piece of land and the management of every particular portion of capital stock—to another group, the public creditors, who have no such particular interest, must in the long run bring both neglect of the land and the waste or removal of capital stock. A public creditor certainly has a general interest in the prosperity of the country's agriculture, manufactures, and commerce, and thus in the sound condition of its land and the sound management of its capital stock. If any of these declined or failed generally, the proceeds of the various taxes might no longer suffice to pay the annuity or interest due to him. But a public creditor, considered simply as such, has no interest in the condition of any particular piece of land or the management of any particular portion of capital stock. As a public creditor, he has no knowledge of any such portion. He does not inspect it. He can take no care of it. Its ruin may in some cases escape his notice and cannot affect him directly.
Funding has gradually weakened every state that has adopted it. The Italian republics appear to have begun the practice. Genoa and Venice, the only two remaining that can claim an independent existence, have both been weakened by it. Spain seems to have learned it from the Italian republics and, its taxes probably being less judicious than theirs, has been weakened still more in proportion to its natural strength. Spain's debts are very old. It was deeply indebted before the end of the sixteenth century, about a hundred years before England owed a shilling. France, despite all its natural resources, languishes beneath a similarly oppressive load. The republic of the United Provinces has been weakened by its debts as much as Genoa or Venice. Can a practice that has brought weakness or dissolution to every other country really prove entirely harmless in Great Britain alone?
It may be said that the tax systems established in those countries are inferior to England's. I believe they are. But we must remember that, once even the wisest government has exhausted all proper subjects of taxation, urgent necessity will force it to resort to improper ones. The wise republic of Holland has at times had to resort to taxes as inconvenient as most of Spain's. Another war, begun before any substantial release of public revenue has been achieved and becoming as expensive as the last, may by irresistible necessity make the British tax system as oppressive as Holland's, or even Spain's. To the credit of our present tax system, it has so far interfered so little with industry that, even during the most expensive wars, individuals' thrift and good management seem to have repaired through saving and accumulation every breach made in society's general capital by the government's waste and extravagance. At the end of the recent war, the most expensive Great Britain had ever waged, her agriculture was as flourishing, her manufacturers as numerous and fully employed, and her commerce as extensive as ever before. The capital supporting all those branches of industry must therefore have been as great as ever. Since peace returned, agriculture has improved further; house rents have risen in every town and village in the country, evidence of the people's increasing wealth and revenue. The yearly yield of most old taxes, especially the chief branches of excise and customs, has also continually increased, equally clear evidence of growing consumption and therefore of the growing produce that alone could sustain it. Great Britain seems easily to bear a burden that, half a century ago, no one believed she could bear. Let us not, however, rashly conclude that she can bear any burden at all; nor be too confident that she could bear, without great distress, even a slightly greater one than that already imposed upon her.
Once national debts have accumulated to a certain level, I believe there is scarcely a single instance of their having been honestly and fully paid. If public revenue has ever been freed from them at all, it has always been through bankruptcy—sometimes openly declared, though often disguised as payment.
Book V, Chapter III, 5
18th-century English
The raising of the denomination of the coin has been the most usual expedient by which a real public bankruptcy has been disguised under the appearance of a pretended payment. If a sixpence, for example, should, either by act of parliament or royal proclamation, be raised to the denomination of a shilling, and twenty sixpences to that of a pound sterling; the person who, under the old denomination, had borrowed twenty shillings, or near four ounces of silver, would, under the new, pay with twenty sixpences, or with something less than two ounces. A national debt of about a hundred and twenty-eight millions, near the capital of the funded and unfunded debt of Great Britain, might, in this manner, be paid with about sixty-four millions of our present money. It would, indeed, be a pretended payment only, and the creditors of the public would really be defrauded of ten shillings in the pound of what was due to them. The calamity, too, would extend much further than to the creditors of the public, and those of every private person would suffer a proportionable loss; and this without any advantage, but in most cases with a great additional loss, to the creditors of the public. If the creditors of the public, indeed, were generally much in debt to other people, they might in some measure compensate their loss by paying their creditors in the same coin in which the public had paid them. But in most countries, the creditors of the public are, the greater part of them, wealthy people, who stand more in the relation of creditors than in that of debtors, towards the rest of their fellow citizens. A pretended payment of this kind, therefore, instead of alleviating, aggravates, in most cases, the loss of the creditors of the public; and, without any advantage to the public, extends the calamity to a great number of other innocent people. It occasions a general and most pernicious subversion of the fortunes of private people; enriching, in most cases, the idle and profuse debtor, at the expense of the industrious and frugal creditor; and transporting a great part of the national capital from the hands which were likely to increase and improve it, to those who are likely to dissipate and destroy it. When it becomes necessary for a state to declare itself bankrupt, in the same manner as when it becomes necessary for an individual to do so, a fair, open, and avowed bankruptcy, is always the measure which is both least dishonourable to the debtor, and least hurtful to the creditor. The honour of a state is surely very poorly provided for, when, in order to cover the disgrace of a real bankruptcy, it has recourse to a juggling trick of this kind, so easily seen through, and at the same time so extremely pernicious.
Almost all states, however, ancient as well as modern, when reduced to this necessity, have, upon some occasions, played this very juggling trick. The Romans, at the end of the first Punic war, reduced the As, the coin or denomination by which they computed the value of all their other coins, from containing twelve ounces of copper, to contain only two ounces; that is, they raised two ounces of copper to a denomination which had always before expressed the value of twelve ounces. The republic was, in this manner, enabled to pay the great debts which it had contracted with the sixth part of what it really owed. So sudden and so great a bankruptcy, we should in the present times be apt to imagine, must have occasioned a very violent popular clamour. It does not appear to have occasioned any. The law which enacted it was, like all other laws relating to the coin, introduced and carried through the assembly of the people by a tribune, and was probably a very popular law. In Rome, as in all other ancient republics, the poor people were constantly in debt to the rich and the great, who, in order to secure their votes at the annual elections, used to lend them money at exorbitant interest, which, being never paid, soon accumulated into a sum too great either for the debtor to pay, or for any body else to pay for him. The debtor, for fear of a very severe execution, was obliged, without any further gratuity, to vote for the candidate whom the creditor recommended. In spite of all the laws against bribery and corruption, the bounty of the candidates, together with the occasional distributions of coin which were ordered by the senate, were the principal funds from which, during the latter times of the Roman republic, the poorer citizens derived their subsistence. To deliver themselves from this subjection to their creditors, the poorer citizens were continually calling out, either for an entire abolition of debts, or for what they called new tables; that is, for a law which should entitle them to a complete acquittance, upon paying only a certain proportion of their accumulated debts. The law which reduced the coin of all denominations to a sixth part of its former value, as it enabled them to pay their debts with a sixth part of what they really owed, was equivalent to the most advantageous new tables. In order to satisfy the people, the rich and the great were, upon several different occasions, obliged to consent to laws, both for abolishing debts, and for introducing new tables; and they probably were induced to consent to this law, partly for the same reason, and partly that, by liberating the public revenue, they might restore vigour to that government, of which they themselves had the principal direction. An operation of this kind would at once reduce a debt of £128,000,000 to £21,333,333:6:8. In the course of the second Punic war, the As was still further reduced, first, from two ounces of copper to one ounce, and afterwards from one ounce to half an ounce; that is, to the twenty-fourth part of its original value. By combining the three Roman operations into one, a debt of a hundred and twenty-eight millions of our present money, might in this manner be reduced all at once to a debt of £5,333,333:6:8. Even the enormous debt of Great Britain might in this manner soon be paid.
By means of such expedients, the coin of, I believe, all nations, has been gradually reduced more and more below its original value, and the same nominal sum has been gradually brought to contain a smaller and a smaller quantity of silver.
Nations have sometimes, for the same purpose, adulterated the standard of their coin; that is, have mixed a greater quantity of alloy in it. If in the pound weight of our silver coin, for example, instead of eighteen penny-weight, according to the present standard, there were mixed eight ounces of alloy; a pound sterling, or twenty shillings of such coin, would be worth little more than six shillings and eightpence of our present money. The quantity of silver contained in six shillings and eightpence of our present money, would thus be raised very nearly to the denomination of a pound sterling. The adulteration of the standard has exactly the same effect with what the French call an augmentation, or a direct raising of the denomination of the coin.
An augmentation, or a direct raising of the denomination of the coin, always is, and from its nature must be, an open and avowed operation. By means of it, pieces of a smaller weight and bulk are called by the same name, which had before been given to pieces of a greater weight and bulk. The adulteration of the standard, on the contrary, has generally been a concealed operation. By means of it, pieces are issued from the mint, of the same denomination, and, as nearly as could be contrived, of the same weight, bulk, and appearance, with pieces which had been current before of much greater value. When king John of France, {See Du Cange Glossary, voce Moneta; the Benedictine Edition.} in order to pay his debts, adulterated his coin, all the officers of his mint were sworn to secrecy. Both operations are unjust. But a simple augmentation is an injustice of open violence; whereas an adulteration is an injustice of treacherous fraud. This latter operation, therefore, as soon as it has been discovered, and it could never be concealed very long, has always excited much greater indignation than the former. The coin, after any considerable augmentation, has very seldom been brought back to its former weight; but after the greatest adulterations, it has almost always been brought back to its former fineness. It has scarce ever happened, that the fury and indignation of the people could otherwise be appeased.
In the end of the reign of Henry VIII., and in the beginning of that of Edward VI., the English coin was not only raised in its denomination, but adulterated in its standard. The like frauds were practised in Scotland during the minority of James VI. They have occasionally been practised in most other countries.
That the public revenue of Great Britain can never be completely liberated, or even that any considerable progress can ever be made towards that liberation, while the surplus of that revenue, or what is over and above defraying the annual expense of the peace establishment, is so very small, it seems altogether in vain to expect. That liberation, it is evident, can never be brought about, without either some very considerable augmentation of the public revenue, or some equally considerable reduction of the public expense.
A more equal land tax, a more equal tax upon the rent of houses, and such alterations in the present system of customs and excise as those which have been mentioned in the foregoing chapter, might, perhaps, without increasing the burden of the greater part of the people, but only distributing the weight of it more equally upon the whole, produce a considerable augmentation of revenue. The most sanguine projector, however, could scarce flatter himself, that any augmentation of this kind would be such as could give any reasonable hopes, either of liberating the public revenue altogether, or even of making such progress towards that liberation in time of peace, as either to prevent or to compensate the further accumulation of the public debt in the next war.
By extending the British system of taxation to all the different provinces of the empire, inhabited by people either of British or European extraction, a much greater augmentation of revenue might be expected. This, however, could scarce, perhaps, be done, consistently with the principles of the British constitution, without admitting into the British parliament, or, if you will, into the states-general of the British empire, a fair and equal representation of all those different provinces; that of each province bearing the same proportion to the produce of its taxes, as the representation of Great Britain might bear to the produce of the taxes levied upon Great Britain. The private interest of many powerful individuals, the confirmed prejudices of great bodies of people, seem, indeed, at present, to oppose to so great a change, such obstacles as it may be very difficult, perhaps altogether impossible, to surmount. Without, however, pretending to determine whether such a union be practicable or impracticable, it may not, perhaps, be improper, in a speculative work of this kind, to consider how far the British system of taxation might be applicable to all the different provinces of the empire; what revenue might be expected from it, if so applied; and in what manner a general union of this kind might be likely to affect the happiness and prosperity of the different provinces comprehended within it. Such a speculation, can, at worst, be regarded but as a new Utopia, less amusing, certainly, but no more useless and chimerical than the old one.
The land-tax, the stamp duties, and the different duties of customs and excise, constitute the four principal branches of the British taxes.
Ireland is certainly as able, and our American and West India plantations more able, to pay a land tax, than Great Britain. Where the landlord is subject neither to tythe nor poor’s rate, he must certainly be more able to pay such a tax, than where he is subject to both those other burdens. The tythe, where there is no modus, and where it is levied in kind, diminishes more what would otherwise be the rent of the landlord, than a land tax which really amounted to five shillings in the pound. Such a tythe will be found, in most cases, to amount to more than a fourth part of the real rent of the land, or of what remains after replacing completely the capital of the farmer, together with his reasonable profit. If all moduses and all impropriations were taken away, the complete church tythe of Great Britain and Ireland could not well be estimated at less than six or seven millions. If there was no tythe either in Great Britain or Ireland, the landlords could afford to pay six or seven millions additional land tax, without being more burdened than a very great part of them are at present. America pays no tythe, and could, therefore, very well afford to pay a land tax. The lands in America and the West Indies, indeed, are, in general, not tenanted nor leased out to farmers. They could not, therefore, be assessed according to any rent roll. But neither were the lands of Great Britain, in the 4th of William and Mary, assessed according to any rent roll, but according to a very loose and inaccurate estimation. The lands in America might be assessed either in the same manner, or according to an equitable valuation, in consequence of an accurate survey, like that which was lately made in the Milanese, and in the dominions of Austria, Prussia, and Sardinia.
Stamp duties, it is evident, might be levied without any variation, in all countries where the forms of law process, and the deeds by which property, both real and personal, is transferred, are the same, or nearly the same.
The extension of the custom-house laws of Great Britain to Ireland and the plantations, provided it was accompanied, as in justice it ought to be, with an extension of the freedom of trade, would be in the highest degree advantageous to both. All the invidious restraints which at present oppress the trade of Ireland, the distinction between the enumerated and non-enumerated commodities of America, would be entirely at an end. The countries north of Cape Finisterre would be as open to every part of the produce of America, as those south of that cape are to some parts of that produce at present. The trade between all the different parts of the British empire would, in consequence of this uniformity in the custom-house laws, be as free as the coasting trade of Great Britain is at present. The British empire would thus afford, within itself, an immense internal market for every part of the produce of all its different provinces. So great an extension of market would soon compensate, both to Ireland and the plantations, all that they could suffer from the increase of the duties of customs.
English
Raising the denomination of coins has been the usual device for disguising a genuine public bankruptcy as a supposed payment. If, for example, an act of parliament or a royal proclamation made a sixpence count as a shilling, and twenty sixpences as a pound sterling, someone who had borrowed twenty shillings, or nearly four ounces of silver, under the old denomination would pay under the new one with twenty sixpences, or somewhat less than two ounces. In this way, a national debt of about a hundred and twenty-eight millions—close to the principal of Great Britain's funded and unfunded debt—could be paid with about sixty-four millions in our present money. The payment would, of course, be nominal only: public creditors would in reality be defrauded of ten shillings in the pound of what they were owed. Nor would the calamity end with public creditors. The creditors of every private person would suffer a proportionate loss, bringing public creditors no advantage and, in most cases, inflicting a great additional loss on them. If public creditors were themselves generally heavily indebted to others, they could to some extent offset their loss by paying their own creditors in the same coin the public had paid them. But in most countries, most public creditors are wealthy people who are more often creditors than debtors in relation to their fellow citizens. A nominal payment of this sort therefore generally aggravates rather than relieves their loss and, without benefiting the public, spreads the calamity to many other innocent people. It brings about a general and deeply harmful upheaval in private fortunes, enriching in most cases the idle and extravagant debtor at the expense of the industrious and thrifty creditor, and transferring a great part of the nation's capital from hands likely to enlarge and improve it to hands likely to squander and destroy it. When a state must declare bankruptcy, as when an individual must, an honest, open, declared bankruptcy is always the course least dishonorable to the debtor and least harmful to the creditor. A state's honor is surely poorly served if, to conceal the disgrace of actual bankruptcy, it resorts to so transparent and so exceedingly harmful a trick.
Yet nearly all states, ancient and modern, have resorted to precisely this trick when pressed by necessity. At the end of the first Punic war the Romans reduced the As, the coin or denomination in which they reckoned the value of all their other coins, from twelve ounces of copper to only two ounces. They thus gave two ounces of copper a denomination that had previously expressed the value of twelve ounces. The republic could thereby pay the great debts it had incurred with one-sixth of what it really owed. We might expect so sudden and extensive a bankruptcy to have provoked a violent popular outcry. Apparently it did not. Like all other coinage laws, the law enacting it was introduced and carried through the people's assembly by a tribune, and it was probably very popular. In Rome, as in every other ancient republic, the poor were continually indebted to the rich and powerful. To secure their votes at annual elections, the latter lent them money at exorbitant interest; never repaid, these loans soon grew into sums too large for the debtor, or anyone else on his behalf, to pay. Fearing severe legal enforcement, the debtor had to vote, without any further gift, for the candidate his creditor recommended. Despite every law against bribery and corruption, candidates' generosity and occasional distributions of coin ordered by the senate were the chief sources of support for poorer citizens in the latter days of the Roman republic. To free themselves from this dependence on their creditors, poorer citizens continually demanded either the complete abolition of debts or what they called new tables: a law entitling them to full discharge upon paying only a specified proportion of their accumulated debts. The law reducing coins of every denomination to one-sixth of their former value let them discharge their debts with one-sixth of what they actually owed and was equivalent to the most favorable new tables. On several occasions the rich and powerful had to consent, to satisfy the people, to laws abolishing debts and introducing new tables. They probably agreed to this law partly for the same reason, and partly because freeing the public revenue could restore strength to a government they themselves principally directed. Such an operation would immediately reduce a debt of £128,000,000 to £21,333,333:6:8. During the second Punic war the As was reduced further, first from two ounces of copper to one, then from one ounce to half an ounce: to one twenty-fourth of its original value. Combining all three Roman operations into one would reduce a debt of a hundred and twenty-eight millions in our present money, all at once, to £5,333,333:6:8. Even Great Britain's enormous debt could soon be paid in this fashion.
Through such devices the coinage of, I believe, every nation has gradually been reduced further and further below its original value; the same nominal sum has come to contain ever less silver.
For the same purpose nations have sometimes debased the standard of their coinage by mixing in more alloy. If, for example, a pound weight of our silver coin contained eight ounces of alloy instead of eighteen penny-weight, as under the present standard, a pound sterling, or twenty shillings of such coin, would be worth little more than six shillings and eightpence in our present money. The silver now contained in six shillings and eightpence would thus be raised to nearly the denomination of a pound sterling. Debasing the standard has exactly the same effect as what the French call an augmentation, or a direct increase in a coin's denomination.
An augmentation, a direct increase in the coin's denomination, is always, and by its nature must be, an open and declared operation. Coins of lesser weight and bulk receive the name formerly given to coins of greater weight and bulk. Debasing the standard, by contrast, has generally been done in secret. The mint issues coins of the same denomination and, as nearly as it can contrive, the same weight, bulk, and appearance as coins previously in circulation that were worth much more. When king John of France [See Du Cange Glossary, voce Moneta; the Benedictine Edition.] debased his coinage to pay his debts, every officer of his mint was sworn to secrecy. Both operations are unjust. But a simple augmentation is an injustice done by open force, whereas debasement is an injustice done by treacherous fraud. Consequently, when the latter has been discovered—and it could never remain hidden for long—it has always aroused far greater indignation than the former. Coins have seldom been restored to their former weight after a substantial augmentation; after even the greatest debasements, they have almost always been restored to their former fineness. The people's fury and indignation could scarcely be appeased otherwise.
At the end of Henry VIII.'s reign and the beginning of Edward VI.'s, English coins were not only raised in denomination but debased in standard. Similar frauds were practiced in Scotland during James VI.'s minority. They have also been practiced occasionally in most other countries.
It seems wholly futile to expect Great Britain's public revenue ever to be completely freed, or even substantial progress made toward freeing it, while the surplus beyond the annual expense of the peacetime establishment remains so small. Plainly, it cannot be freed without either a very substantial increase in public revenue or an equally substantial reduction in public expenditure.
A more equitable land tax, a more equitable tax on house rents, and the changes to the present customs and excise system mentioned in the preceding chapter might perhaps bring a substantial increase in revenue without increasing the burden on most people, merely distributing it more equitably among all. Yet even the most optimistic planner could scarcely imagine an increase of this kind sufficient to offer reasonable hope of freeing the public revenue altogether, or even of making enough progress toward that end in peacetime to prevent or offset the further accumulation of public debt in the next war.
Extending the British tax system to all the empire's provinces inhabited by people of British or European descent might yield a much greater increase in revenue. Consistently with the principles of the British constitution, however, this could perhaps scarcely be done without granting all those provinces fair and equal representation in the British parliament—or, if you prefer, the states-general of the British empire. Each province's representation would bear the same proportion to the yield of its taxes as Great Britain's representation bore to the yield of taxes levied on Great Britain. The private interests of many powerful individuals and the settled prejudices of large groups of people do now seem to raise obstacles to so great a change that might prove very difficult, perhaps altogether impossible, to overcome. Without presuming to decide whether such a union is practicable, it may nevertheless be fitting, in a speculative work of this kind, to consider how far the British tax system could be applied to all the empire's provinces; what revenue it might produce if so applied; and how a general union of this kind might affect the happiness and prosperity of the provinces it embraced. At worst, such speculation can be considered only a new Utopia—less entertaining, certainly, but no more useless or fanciful than the old one.
The land tax, stamp duties, and the various customs and excise duties are the four principal branches of British taxation.
Ireland is certainly as able to pay a land tax as Great Britain, and our American and West India plantations are more able. A landlord subject to neither tithe nor poor rate must surely be better able to pay such a tax than one bearing both those burdens. Where there is no modus and the tithe is levied in kind, it reduces what would otherwise be the landlord's rent more than a land tax actually amounting to five shillings in the pound. In most cases such a tithe will exceed a fourth of the land's real rent, what remains after fully replacing the farmer's capital together with his reasonable profit. If all moduses and impropriations were abolished, the complete church tithe of Great Britain and Ireland could hardly be reckoned at less than six or seven millions. Without tithes in Great Britain or Ireland, landlords could afford an additional six or seven millions in land tax without being more burdened than a very large proportion of them are now. America pays no tithe and could therefore readily afford a land tax. Lands in America and the West Indies, it is true, are not generally let or leased to farmers and so could not be assessed from rent rolls. But in the 4th of William and Mary the lands of Great Britain were not assessed from rent rolls either: they were assessed by a very loose and inaccurate estimate. American lands could be assessed in the same way, or by an equitable valuation based on an accurate survey, such as those recently made in the Milanese and in the dominions of Austria, Prussia, and Sardinia.
Stamp duties could plainly be levied without alteration in every country where legal procedures and the deeds transferring real and personal property are the same, or nearly the same.
Extending Great Britain's customs laws to Ireland and the plantations would benefit both immensely, provided that it was accompanied, as justice requires, by an extension of freedom of trade. All the invidious restraints now burdening Ireland's trade, and the distinction between America's enumerated and non-enumerated commodities, would come to an end. Countries north of Cape Finisterre would be as open to every part of America's produce as countries south of that cape now are to some of it. As a result of uniform customs laws, trade among all parts of the British empire would be as free as Great Britain's coastal trade is now. The empire would thereby provide within itself an immense domestic market for every part of the produce of its various provinces. So great an expansion of their market would soon compensate both Ireland and the plantations for any harm they might suffer from increased customs duties.
Book V, Chapter III, 6
18th-century English
The excise is the only part of the British system of taxation, which would require to be varied in any respect, according as it was applied to the different provinces of the empire. It might be applied to Ireland without any variation; the produce and consumption of that kingdom being exactly of the same nature with those of Great Britain. In its application to America and the West Indies, of which the produce and consumption are so very different from those of Great Britain, some modification might be necessary, in the same manner as in its application to the cyder and beer counties of England.
A fermented liquor, for example, which is called beer, but which, as it is made of molasses, bears very little resemblance to our beer, makes a considerable part of the common drink of the people in America. This liquor, as it can be kept only for a few days, cannot, like our beer, be prepared and stored up for sale in great breweries; but every private family must brew it for their own use, in the same manner as they cook their victuals. But to subject every private family to the odious visits and examination of the tax-gatherers, in the same manner as we subject the keepers of ale-houses and the brewers for public sale, would be altogether inconsistent with liberty. If, for the sake of equality, it was thought necessary to lay a tax upon this liquor, it might be taxed by taxing the material of which it is made, either at the place of manufacture, or, if the circumstances of the trade rendered such an excise improper, by laying a duty upon its importation into the colony in which it was to be consumed. Besides the duty of one penny a-gallon imposed by the British parliament upon the importation of molasses into America, there is a provincial tax of this kind upon their importation into Massachusetts Bay, in ships belonging to any other colony, of eight-pence the hogshead; and another upon their importation from the northern colonies into South Carolina, of five-pence the gallon. Or, if neither of these methods was found convenient, each family might compound for its consumption of this liquor, either according to the number of persons of which it consisted, in the same manner as private families compound for the malt tax in England; or according to the different ages and sexes of those persons, in the same manner as several different taxes are levied in Holland; or, nearly as Sir Matthew Decker proposes, that all taxes upon consumable commodities should be levied in England. This mode of taxation, it has already been observed, when applied to objects of a speedy consumption, is not a very convenient one. It might be adopted, however, in cases where no better could be done.
Sugar, rum, and tobacco, are commodities which are nowhere necessaries of life, which are become objects of almost universal consumption, and which are, therefore, extremely proper subjects of taxation. If a union with the colonies were to take place, those commodities might be taxed, either before they go out of the hands of the manufacturer or grower; or, if this mode of taxation did not suit the circumstances of those persons, they might be deposited in public warehouses, both at the place of manufacture, and at all the different ports of the empire, to which they might afterwards be transported, to remain there, under the joint custody of the owner and the revenue officer, till such time as they should be delivered out, either to the consumer, to the merchant-retailer for home consumption, or to the merchant-exporter; the tax not to be advanced till such delivery. When delivered out for exportation, to go duty-free, upon proper security being given, that they should really be exported out of the empire. These are, perhaps, the principal commodities, with regard to which the union with the colonies might require some considerable change in the present system of British taxation.
What might be the amount of the revenue which this system of taxation, extended to all the different provinces of the empire, might produce, it must, no doubt, be altogether impossible to ascertain with tolerable exactness. By means of this system, there is annually levied in Great Britain, upon less than eight millions of people, more than ten millions of revenue. Ireland contains more than two millions of people, and, according to the accounts laid before the congress, the twelve associated provinces of America contain more than three. Those accounts, however, may have been exaggerated, in order, perhaps, either to encourage their own people, or to intimidate those of this country; and we shall suppose, therefore, that our North American and West Indian colonies, taken together, contain no more than three millions; or that the whole British empire, in Europe and America, contains no more than thirteen millions of inhabitants. If, upon less than eight millions of inhabitants, this system of taxation raises a revenue of more than ten millions sterling; it ought, upon thirteen millions of inhabitants, to raise a revenue of more than sixteen millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. From this revenue, supposing that this system could produce it, must be deducted the revenue usually raised in Ireland and the plantations, for defraying the expense of the respective civil governments. The expense of the civil and military establishment of Ireland, together with the interest of the public debt, amounts, at a medium of the two years which ended March 1775, to something less than seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year. By a very exact account of the revenue of the principal colonies of America and the West Indies, it amounted, before the commencement of the present disturbances, to a hundred and forty-one thousand eight hundred pounds. In this account, however, the revenue of Maryland, of North Carolina, and of all our late acquisitions, both upon the continent, and in the islands, is omitted; which may, perhaps, make a difference of thirty or forty thousand pounds. For the sake of even numbers, therefore, let us suppose that the revenue necessary for supporting the civil government of Ireland and the plantations may amount to a million. There would remain, consequently, a revenue of fifteen millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, to be applied towards defraying the general expense of the empire, and towards paying the public debt. But if, from the present revenue of Great Britain, a million could, in peaceable times, be spared towards the payment of that debt, six millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds could very well be spared from this improved revenue. This great sinking fund, too, might be augmented every year by the interest of the debt which had been discharged the year before; and might, in this manner, increase so very rapidly, as to be sufficient in a few years to discharge the whole debt, and thus to restore completely the at-present debilitated and languishing vigour of the empire. In the meantime, the people might be relieved from some of the most burdensome taxes; from those which are imposed either upon the necessaries of life, or upon the materials of manufacture. The labouring poor would thus be enabled to live better, to work cheaper, and to send their goods cheaper to market. The cheapness of their goods would increase the demand for them, and consequently for the labour of those who produced them. This increase in the demand for labour would both increase the numbers, and improve the circumstances of the labouring poor. Their consumption would increase, and, together with it, the revenue arising from all those articles of their consumption upon which the taxes might be allowed to remain.
The revenue arising from this system of taxation, however, might not immediately increase in proportion to the number of people who were subjected to it. Great indulgence would for some time be due to those provinces of the empire which were thus subjected to burdens to which they had not before been accustomed; and even when the same taxes came to be levied everywhere as exactly as possible, they would not everywhere produce a revenue proportioned to the numbers of the people. In a poor country, the consumption of the principal commodities subject to the duties of customs and excise, is very small; and in a thinly inhabited country, the opportunities of smuggling are very great. The consumption of malt liquors among the inferior ranks of people in Scotland is very small; and the excise upon malt, beer, and ale, produces less there than in England, in proportion to the numbers of the people and the rate of the duties, which upon malt is different, on account of a supposed difference of quality. In these particular branches of the excise, there is not, I apprehend, much more smuggling in the one country than in the other. The duties upon the distillery, and the greater part of the duties of customs, in proportion to the numbers of people in the respective countries, produce less in Scotland than in England, not only on account of the smaller consumption of the taxed commodities, but of the much greater facility of smuggling. In Ireland, the inferior ranks of people are still poorer than in Scotland, and many parts of the country are almost as thinly inhabited. In Ireland, therefore, the consumption of the taxed commodities might, in proportion to the number of the people, be still less than in Scotland, and the facility of smuggling nearly the same. In America and the West Indies, the white people, even of the lowest rank, are in much better circumstances than those of the same rank in England; and their consumption of all the luxuries in which they usually indulge themselves, is probably much greater. The blacks, indeed, who make the greater part of the inhabitants, both of the southern colonies upon the continent and of the West India islands, as they are in a state of slavery, are, no doubt, in a worse condition than the poorest people either in Scotland or Ireland. We must not, however, upon that account, imagine that they are worse fed, or that their consumption of articles which might be subjected to moderate duties, is less than that even of the lower ranks of people in England. In order that they may work well, it is the interest of their master that they should be fed well, and kept in good heart, in the same manner as it is his interest that his working cattle should be so. The blacks, accordingly, have almost everywhere their allowance of rum, and of molasses or spruce-beer, in the same manner as the white servants; and this allowance would not probably be withdrawn, though those articles should be subjected to moderate duties. The consumption of the taxed commodities, therefore, in proportion to the number of inhabitants, would probably be as great in America and the West Indies as in any part of the British empire. The opportunities of smuggling, indeed, would be much greater; America, in proportion to the extent of the country, being much more thinly inhabited than either Scotland or Ireland. If the revenue, however, which is at present raised by the different duties upon malt and malt liquors, were to be levied by a single duty upon malt, the opportunity of smuggling in the most important branch of the excise would be almost entirely taken away; and if the duties of customs, instead of being imposed upon almost all the different articles of importation, were confined to a few of the most general use and consumption, and if the levying of those duties were subjected to the excise laws, the opportunity of smuggling, though not so entirely taken away, would be very much diminished. In consequence of those two apparently very simple and easy alterations, the duties of customs and excise might probably produce a revenue as great, in proportion to the consumption of the most thinly inhabited province, as they do at present, in proportion to that of the most populous.
The Americans, it has been said, indeed, have no gold or silver money, the interior commerce of the country being carried on by a paper currency; and the gold and silver, which occasionally come among them, being all sent to Great Britain, in return for the commodities which they receive from us. But without gold and silver, it is added, there is no possibility of paying taxes. We already get all the gold and silver which they have. How is it possible to draw from them what they have not?
The present scarcity of gold and silver money in America, is not the effect of the poverty of that country, or of the inability of the people there to purchase those metals. In a country where the wages of labour are so much higher, and the price of provisions so much lower than in England, the greater part of the people must surely have wherewithal to purchase a greater quantity, if it were either necessary or convenient for them to do so. The scarcity of those metals, therefore, must be the effect of choice, and not of necessity.
It is for transacting either domestic or foreign business, that gold or silver money is either necessary or convenient.
The domestic business of every country, it has been shewn in the second book of this Inquiry, may, at least in peaceable times, be transacted by means of a paper currency, with nearly the same degree of conveniency as by gold and silver money. It is convenient for the Americans, who could always employ with profit, in the improvement of their lands, a greater stock than they can easily get, to save as much as possible the expense of so costly an instrument of commerce as gold and silver; and rather to employ that part of their surplus produce which would be necessary for purchasing those metals, in purchasing the instruments of trade, the materials of clothing, several parts of household furniture, and the iron work necessary for building and extending their settlements and plantations; in purchasing not dead stock, but active and productive stock. The colony governments find it for their interest to supply the people with such a quantity of paper money as is fully sufficient, and generally more than sufficient, for transacting their domestic business. Some of those governments, that of Pennsylvania, particularly, derive a revenue from lending this paper money to their subjects, at an interest of so much per cent. Others, like that of Massachusetts Bay, advance, upon extraordinary emergencies, a paper money of this kind for defraying the public expense; and afterwards, when it suits the conveniency of the colony, redeem it at the depreciated value to which it gradually falls. In 1747, {See Hutchinson’s History of Massachusetts Bay vol. ii. page 436 et seq.} that colony paid in this manner the greater part of its public debts, with the tenth part of the money for which its bills had been granted. It suits the conveniency of the planters, to save the expense of employing gold and silver money in their domestic transactions; and it suits the conveniency of the colony governments, to supply them with a medium, which, though attended with some very considerable disadvantages, enables them to save that expense. The redundancy of paper money necessarily banishes gold and silver from the domestic transactions of the colonies, for the same reason that it has banished those metals from the greater part of the domestic transactions in Scotland; and in both countries, it is not the poverty, but the enterprizing and projecting spirit of the people, their desire of employing all the stock which they can get, as active and productive stock, which has occasioned this redundancy of paper money.
English
Excise is the only part of the British tax system that would require any adjustment for application to the empire's different provinces. It could be applied to Ireland unchanged, since that kingdom's production and consumption are of precisely the same nature as Great Britain's. Applied to America and the West Indies, whose production and consumption differ so greatly from Great Britain's, it might require some modification, just as it does in England's cider and beer counties.
For example, a fermented drink called beer, though made from molasses and bearing little resemblance to our beer, forms a considerable part of the ordinary drink of Americans. Because it keeps for only a few days, it cannot, like our beer, be brewed and stored for sale in large breweries. Each household must make its own, just as it prepares its own food. To subject every household to the odious visits and inspections of tax collectors, as we do alehouse keepers and commercial brewers, would be wholly incompatible with liberty. If equality were thought to require a tax on this drink, one could tax the material from which it is made, either where it is manufactured or, if the circumstances of trade made that excise unsuitable, on its importation into the colony where it would be consumed. Besides the duty of one penny a gallon imposed by the British parliament on molasses imported into America, a provincial tax of eight-pence the hogshead is levied on molasses brought into Massachusetts Bay in ships belonging to any other colony, and another of five-pence the gallon on molasses brought from the northern colonies into South Carolina. Or, if neither method proved suitable, each family could pay an agreed assessment for its consumption of the drink: according to its number of members, as English households do for the malt tax; according to their ages and sexes, as with several taxes in Holland; or nearly in the way Sir Matthew Decker proposes that all taxes on consumable commodities be levied in England. As already observed, this form of taxation is not very convenient when applied to things quickly consumed. It might nevertheless be used where nothing better could be devised.
Sugar, rum, and tobacco are nowhere necessities of life, yet have become objects of almost universal consumption; they are therefore particularly suitable subjects of taxation. If union with the colonies took place, these commodities could be taxed before leaving the hands of their manufacturer or grower. Or, if that method did not suit those people's circumstances, the commodities could be placed in public warehouses both where they were produced and at every port of the empire to which they might subsequently be shipped. They would remain there under the joint custody of their owner and a revenue officer until released to a consumer, a merchant-retailer for domestic consumption, or a merchant-exporter; the tax would not have to be paid until that release. Goods released for export would leave duty-free, upon the provision of suitable security that they would actually be exported from the empire. These are perhaps the principal commodities for which union with the colonies would demand a substantial change in the present British tax system.
It must surely be impossible to determine with tolerable accuracy how much revenue this tax system might yield if extended to all the empire's provinces. In Great Britain it raises more than ten millions of revenue every year from fewer than eight millions of people. Ireland has more than two millions of people; according to accounts presented to the congress, the twelve associated provinces of America have more than three. Those accounts may, however, have been exaggerated, perhaps to encourage their own people or to intimidate the people of this country. Let us therefore suppose that our North American and West Indian colonies together contain no more than three millions, so that the entire British empire in Europe and America has no more than thirteen millions of inhabitants. If this tax system raises more than ten millions sterling from fewer than eight millions of inhabitants, it should raise more than sixteen millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling from thirteen millions. From this revenue, assuming the system could produce it, we must deduct the revenue usually raised in Ireland and the plantations to meet the expense of their respective civil governments. Over the two years ending March 1775, the expense of Ireland's civil and military establishment together with interest on its public debt averaged somewhat less than seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year. A very precise account put the revenue of the chief American and West Indian colonies, before the present disturbances began, at a hundred and forty-one thousand eight hundred pounds. That account, however, omits the revenue of Maryland, North Carolina, and all our recent acquisitions both on the continent and on the islands, which may perhaps make a difference of thirty or forty thousand pounds. For a round figure, then, let us suppose that supporting the civil government of Ireland and the plantations requires a million in revenue. There would remain fifteen millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds for the general expenses of the empire and the payment of the public debt. But if one million can now be spared from Great Britain's revenue in peacetime to pay that debt, six millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds could readily be spared from this increased revenue. This great sinking fund could also grow every year by the interest on the debt discharged the year before. It could thus grow rapidly enough to discharge the whole debt within a few years and completely restore the empire's presently weakened and languishing strength. Meanwhile, the people could be relieved of some of the most burdensome taxes: those on the necessities of life or on materials used in manufactures. The laboring poor could then live better, work more cheaply, and send their goods to market at lower prices. The cheapness of their goods would increase demand for them, and thus for the labor of those who made them. Greater demand for labor would both increase the number of the laboring poor and improve their circumstances. Their consumption would grow, and so would the revenue from all those articles they consume that remained subject to tax.
Revenue from this tax system might not, however, increase immediately in proportion to the number of people brought under it. Considerable indulgence would for some time be due to provinces newly subjected to unfamiliar burdens. And even when the same taxes were levied as precisely as possible everywhere, they would not everywhere yield revenue proportionate to population. In a poor country, little is consumed of the principal commodities subject to customs and excise; in a sparsely inhabited one, opportunities for smuggling abound. Among the lower ranks in Scotland, consumption of malt liquors is very low, and excise on malt, beer, and ale yields less than in England relative to population and to the rates of duty, which differ for malt because of an assumed difference in quality. In these particular branches of excise I do not think there is much more smuggling in one country than in the other. Duties on distilling, and most customs duties, yield less relative to population in Scotland than in England, not only because less of the taxed commodities is consumed but because smuggling is far easier. In Ireland, the lower ranks are poorer still than in Scotland, and many areas are almost as sparsely inhabited. Irish consumption of taxed commodities might therefore be lower relative to population even than Scottish consumption, while opportunities for smuggling might be almost as great. In America and the West Indies, white people even of the lowest rank are much better off than people of the same rank in England; they probably consume far more of the luxuries they ordinarily enjoy. Black people, it is true, make up the majority of the inhabitants of both the southern mainland colonies and the West Indian islands, and, being enslaved, are undoubtedly worse off than the poorest people in Scotland or Ireland. We should not, however, suppose on that account that they are fed worse, or consume fewer articles that might bear moderate duties, than even England's lower ranks. To make them work well, their master has an interest in feeding them well and keeping them in good condition, just as he has an interest in doing so for his working cattle. Accordingly, Black people almost everywhere receive an allowance of rum and of molasses or spruce-beer, as white servants do; that allowance would probably not be withdrawn if those articles bore moderate duties. Consumption of taxed commodities relative to population would thus probably be as high in America and the West Indies as anywhere in the British empire. Opportunities for smuggling, admittedly, would be far greater, since America is much more sparsely inhabited relative to its area than Scotland or Ireland. Yet if the revenue now raised by various duties on malt and malt liquors were raised through one duty on malt, the opportunity for smuggling in the most important branch of excise would almost entirely disappear. And if customs duties, instead of falling on nearly every kind of import, were restricted to a few of the most commonly used and consumed, and collected under the excise laws, opportunities for smuggling would be greatly reduced, though not eliminated so completely. With these two seemingly simple and easy changes, customs and excise duties could probably yield as much revenue relative to consumption in the most sparsely inhabited province as they now yield relative to consumption in the most populous.
It has been said, however, that the Americans have no gold or silver money: the country's internal trade runs on paper currency, while all the gold and silver that occasionally reaches them is sent to Great Britain in payment for the commodities we supply. Without gold or silver, the argument continues, taxes cannot be paid. We already receive all the gold and silver they possess. How can we draw from them what they do not have?
The present scarcity of gold and silver money in America results neither from the country's poverty nor from its people's inability to buy those metals. In a country where wages are so much higher and provisions so much cheaper than in England, most people must surely be able to buy more of them if doing so were necessary or convenient. The scarcity of those metals must therefore arise from choice, not necessity.
Gold or silver money is necessary or convenient for the conduct of either domestic or foreign business.
As shown in the second book of this Inquiry, any country's domestic business can, at least in peacetime, be conducted with paper currency almost as conveniently as with gold and silver money. Americans can always profitably employ more stock to improve their lands than they can readily obtain. It therefore suits them to avoid as much as possible the cost of a commercial instrument as expensive as gold and silver and to spend the part of their surplus produce that would have bought those metals instead on tools of trade, materials for clothing, parts of household furniture, and ironwork needed to build and expand their settlements and plantations: to buy not inert stock but active, productive stock. The colonial governments find it in their interest to furnish the people with enough paper money, and generally more than enough, for their domestic business. Some governments, notably Pennsylvania's, derive revenue by lending this paper money to their subjects at a specified rate of interest. Others, like Massachusetts Bay's, issue such paper money in extraordinary emergencies to pay public expenses and later, when it suits the colony, redeem it at the depreciated value to which it has gradually fallen. In 1747, [See Hutchinson’s History of Massachusetts Bay vol. ii. page 436 et seq.] that colony thus paid most of its public debts with a tenth of the money for which its bills had been issued. It suits planters to avoid the expense of using gold and silver money in their domestic dealings; it suits colonial governments to supply a medium that, although it entails some very considerable disadvantages, lets them avoid that expense. Excess paper money necessarily drives gold and silver out of domestic transactions in the colonies for the same reason it has driven those metals from most domestic transactions in Scotland. In neither country has poverty caused this excess of paper money; it is the people's enterprising and speculative spirit, their desire to employ all the stock they can obtain as active and productive stock.
Book V, Chapter III, 7
18th-century English
In the exterior commerce which the different colonies carry on with Great Britain, gold and silver are more or less employed, exactly in proportion as they are more or less necessary. Where those metals are not necessary, they seldom appear. Where they are necessary, they are generally found.
In the commerce between Great Britain and the tobacco colonies, the British goods are generally advanced to the colonists at a pretty long credit, and are afterwards paid for in tobacco, rated at a certain price. It is more convenient for the colonists to pay in tobacco than in gold and silver. It would be more convenient for any merchant to pay for the goods which his correspondents had sold to him, in some other sort of goods which he might happen to deal in, than in money. Such a merchant would have no occasion to keep any part of his stock by him unemployed, and in ready money, for answering occasional demands. He could have, at all times, a larger quantity of goods in his shop or warehouse, and he could deal to a greater extent. But it seldom happens to be convenient for all the correspondents of a merchant to receive payment for the goods which they sell to him, in goods of some other kind which he happens to deal in. The British merchants who trade to Virginia and Maryland, happen to be a particular set of correspondents, to whom it is more convenient to receive payment for the goods which they sell to those colonies in tobacco, than in gold and silver. They expect to make a profit by the sale of the tobacco; they could make none by that of the gold and silver. Gold and silver, therefore, very seldom appear in the commerce between Great Britain and the tobacco colonies. Maryland and Virginia have as little occasion for those metals in their foreign, as in their domestic commerce. They are said, accordingly, to have less gold and silver money than any other colonies in America. They are reckoned, however, as thriving, and consequently as rich, as any of their neighbours.
In the northern colonies, Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, the four governments of New England, etc. the value of their own produce which they export to Great Britain is not equal to that of the manufactures which they import for their own use, and for that of some of the other colonies, to which they are the carriers. A balance, therefore, must be paid to the mother-country in gold and silver and this balance they generally find.
In the sugar colonies, the value of the produce annually exported to Great Britain is much greater than that of all the goods imported from thence. If the sugar and rum annually sent to the mother-country were paid for in those colonies, Great Britain would be obliged to send out, every year, a very large balance in money; and the trade to the West Indies would, by a certain species of politicians, be considered as extremely disadvantageous. But it so happens, that many of the principal proprietors of the sugar plantations reside in Great Britain. Their rents are remitted to them in sugar and rum, the produce of their estates. The sugar and rum which the West India merchants purchase in those colonies upon their own account, are not equal in value to the goods which they annually sell there. A balance, therefore, must necessarily be paid to them in gold and silver, and this balance, too, is generally found.
The difficulty and irregularity of payment from the different colonies to Great Britain, have not been at all in proportion to the greatness or smallness of the balances which were respectively due from them. Payments have, in general, been more regular from the northern than from the tobacco colonies, though the former have generally paid a pretty large balance in money, while the latter have either paid no balance, or a much smaller one. The difficulty of getting payment from our different sugar colonies has been greater or less in proportion, not so much to the extent of the balances respectively due from them, as to the quantity of uncultivated land which they contained; that is, to the greater or smaller temptation which the planters have been under of over-trading, or of undertaking the settlement and plantation of greater quantities of waste land than suited the extent of their capitals. The returns from the great island of Jamaica, where there is still much uncultivated land, have, upon this account, been, in general, more irregular and uncertain than those from the smaller islands of Barbadoes, Antigua, and St. Christopher’s, which have, for these many years, been completely cultivated, and have, upon that account, afforded less field for the speculations of the planter. The new acquisitions of Grenada, Tobago, St. Vincent’s, and Dominica, have opened a new field for speculations of this kind; and the returns from those islands have of late been as irregular and uncertain as those from the great island of Jamaica.
It is not, therefore, the poverty of the colonies which occasions, in the greater part of them, the present scarcity of gold and silver money. Their great demand for active and productive stock makes it convenient for them to have as little dead stock as possible, and disposes them, upon that account, to content themselves with a cheaper, though less commodious instrument of commerce, than gold and silver. They are thereby enabled to convert the value of that gold and silver into the instruments of trade, into the materials of clothing, into household furniture, and into the iron work necessary for building and extending their settlements and plantations. In those branches of business which cannot be transacted without gold and silver money, it appears, that they can always find the necessary quantity of those metals; and if they frequently do not find it, their failure is generally the effect, not of their necessary poverty, but of their unnecessary and excessive enterprise. It is not because they are poor that their payments are irregular and uncertain, but because they are too eager to become excessively rich. Though all that part of the produce of the colony taxes, which was over and above what was necessary for defraying the expense of their own civil and military establishments, were to be remitted to Great Britain in gold and silver, the colonies have abundantly wherewithal to purchase the requisite quantity of those metals. They would in this case be obliged, indeed, to exchange a part of their surplus produce, with which they now purchase active and productive stock, for dead stock. In transacting their domestic business, they would be obliged to employ a costly, instead of a cheap instrument of commerce; and the expense of purchasing this costly instrument might damp somewhat the vivacity and ardour of their excessive enterprise in the improvement of land. It might not, however, be necessary to remit any part of the American revenue in gold and silver. It might be remitted in bills drawn upon, and accepted by, particular merchants or companies in Great Britain, to whom a part of the surplus produce of America had been consigned, who would pay into the treasury the American revenue in money, after having themselves received the value of it in goods; and the whole business might frequently be transacted without exporting a single ounce of gold or silver from America.
It is not contrary to justice, that both Ireland and America should contribute towards the discharge of the public debt of Great Britain. That debt has been contracted in support of the government established by the Revolution; a government to which the protestants of Ireland owe, not only the whole authority which they at present enjoy in their own country, but every security which they possess for their liberty, their property, and their religion; a government to which several of the colonies of America owe their present charters, and consequently their present constitution; and to which all the colonies of America owe the liberty, security, and property, which they have ever since enjoyed. That public debt has been contracted in the defence, not of Great Britain alone, but of all the different provinces of the empire. The immense debt contracted in the late war in particular, and a great part of that contracted in the war before, were both properly contracted in defence of America.
By a union with Great Britain, Ireland would gain, besides the freedom of trade, other advantages much more important, and which would much more than compensate any increase of taxes that might accompany that union. By the union with England, the middling and inferior ranks of people in Scotland gained a complete deliverance from the power of an aristocracy, which had always before oppressed them. By a union with Great Britain, the greater part of people of all ranks in Ireland would gain an equally complete deliverance from a much more oppressive aristocracy; an aristocracy not founded, like that of Scotland, in the natural and respectable distinctions of birth and fortune, but in the most odious of all distinctions, those of religious and political prejudices; distinctions which, more than any other, animate both the insolence of the oppressors, and the hatred and indignation of the oppressed, and which commonly render the inhabitants of the same country more hostile to one another than those of different countries ever are. Without a union with Great Britain, the inhabitants of Ireland are not likely, for many ages, to consider themselves as one people.
No oppressive aristocracy has ever prevailed in the colonies. Even they, however, would, in point of happiness and tranquillity, gain considerably by a union with Great Britain. It would, at least, deliver them from those rancourous and virulent factions which are inseparable from small democracies, and which have so frequently divided the affections of their people, and disturbed the tranquillity of their governments, in their form so nearly democratical. In the case of a total separation from Great Britain, which, unless prevented by a union of this kind, seems very likely to take place, those factions would be ten times more virulent than ever. Before the commencement of the present disturbances, the coercive power of the mother-country had always been able to restrain those factions from breaking out into any thing worse than gross brutality and insult. If that coercive power were entirely taken away, they would probably soon break out into open violence and bloodshed. In all great countries which are united under one uniform government, the spirit of party commonly prevails less in the remote provinces than in the centre of the empire. The distance of those provinces from the capital, from the principal seat of the great scramble of faction and ambition, makes them enter less into the views of any of the contending parties, and renders them more indifferent and impartial spectators of the conduct of all. The spirit of party prevails less in Scotland than in England. In the case of a union, it would probably prevail less in Ireland than in Scotland; and the colonies would probably soon enjoy a degree of concord and unanimity, at present unknown in any part of the British empire. Both Ireland and the colonies, indeed, would be subjected to heavier taxes than any which they at present pay. In consequence, however, of a diligent and faithful application of the public revenue towards the discharge of the national debt, the greater part of those taxes might not be of long continuance, and the public revenue of Great Britain might soon be reduced to what was necessary for maintaining a moderate peace-establishment.
The territorial acquisitions of the East India Company, the undoubted right of the Crown, that is, of the state and people of Great Britain, might be rendered another source of revenue, more abundant, perhaps, than all those already mentioned. Those countries are represented as more fertile, more extensive, and, in proportion to their extent, much richer and more populous than Great Britain. In order to draw a great revenue from them, it would not probably be necessary to introduce any new system of taxation into countries which are already sufficiently, and more than sufficiently, taxed. It might, perhaps, be more proper to lighten than to aggravate the burden of those unfortunate countries, and to endeavour to draw a revenue from them, not by imposing new taxes, but by preventing the embezzlement and misapplication of the greater part of those which they already pay.
If it should be found impracticable for Great Britain to draw any considerable augmentation of revenue from any of the resources above mentioned, the only resource which can remain to her, is a diminution of her expense. In the mode of collecting and in that of expending the public revenue, though in both there may be still room for improvement, Great Britain seems to be at least as economical as any of her neighbours. The military establishment which she maintains for her own defence in time of peace, is more moderate than that of any European state, which can pretend to rival her either in wealth or in power. None of these articles, therefore, seem to admit of any considerable reduction of expense. The expense of the peace-establishment of the colonies was, before the commencement of the present disturbances, very considerable, and is an expense which may, and, if no revenue can be drawn from them, ought certainly to be saved altogether. This constant expense in time of peace, though very great, is insignificant in comparison with what the defence of the colonies has cost us in time of war. The last war, which was undertaken altogether on account of the colonies, cost Great Britain, it has already been observed, upwards of ninety millions. The Spanish war of 1739 was principally undertaken on their account; in which, and in the French war that was the consequence of it, Great Britain, spent upwards of forty millions; a great part of which ought justly to be charged to the colonies. In those two wars, the colonies cost Great Britain much more than double the sum which the national debt amounted to before the commencement of the first of them. Had it not been for those wars, that debt might, and probably would by this time, have been completely paid; and had it not been for the colonies, the former of those wars might not, and the latter certainly would not, have been undertaken. It was because the colonies were supposed to be provinces of the British Empire, that this expense was laid out upon them. But countries which contribute neither revenue nor military force towards the support of the empire, cannot be considered as provinces. They may, perhaps, be considered as appendages, as a sort of splendid and shewy equipage of the empire. But if the empire can no longer support the expense of keeping up this equipage, it ought certainly to lay it down; and if it cannot raise its revenue in proportion to its expense, it ought at least to accommodate its expense to its revenue. If the colonies, notwithstanding their refusal to submit to British taxes, are still to be considered as provinces of the British empire, their defence, in some future war, may cost Great Britain as great an expense as it ever has done in any former war. The rulers of Great Britain have, for more than a century past, amused the people with the imagination that they possessed a great empire on the west side of the Atlantic. This empire, however, has hitherto existed in imagination only. It has hitherto been, not an empire, but the project of an empire; not a gold mine, but the project of a gold mine; a project which has cost, which continues to cost, and which, if pursued in the same way as it has been hitherto, is likely to cost, immense expense, without being likely to bring any profit; for the effects of the monopoly of the colony trade, it has been shewn, are to the great body of the people, mere loss instead of profit. It is surely now time that our rulers should either realize this golden dream, in which they have been indulging themselves, perhaps, as well as the people; or that they should awake from it themselves, and endeavour to awaken the people. If the project cannot be completed, it ought to be given up. If any of the provinces of the British empire cannot be made to contribute towards the support of the whole empire, it is surely time that Great Britain should free herself from the expense of defending those provinces in time of war, and of supporting any part of their civil or military establishment in time of peace; and endeavour to accommodate her future views and designs to the real mediocrity of her circumstances.
English
In the foreign commerce that the different colonies conduct with Great Britain, gold and silver are used in precisely the measure in which they are needed. Where those metals are unnecessary, they seldom appear; where they are necessary, they are generally found.
In trade between Great Britain and the tobacco colonies, British goods are generally supplied to the colonists on fairly long credit and afterward paid for in tobacco, valued at an agreed price. It is more convenient for the colonists to pay in tobacco than in gold and silver. Any merchant would find it more convenient to pay for goods sold to him by his correspondents with some other kind of goods in which he happens to deal, rather than with money. Such a merchant would have no need to keep any part of his stock idle, in ready money, to meet occasional demands. He could always hold more goods in his shop or warehouse, and trade on a larger scale. But it is seldom convenient for all a merchant’s correspondents to accept payment for the goods they sell him in another kind of goods that he happens to deal in. The British merchants who trade with Virginia and Maryland happen to be a particular group of correspondents for whom it is more convenient to receive tobacco in payment for the goods they sell those colonies than gold and silver. They expect to make a profit on the sale of tobacco; they could make none on the sale of gold and silver. Gold and silver, therefore, very seldom appear in trade between Great Britain and the tobacco colonies. Maryland and Virginia have as little need for those metals in their foreign commerce as in their domestic commerce. Accordingly, they are said to have less gold and silver money than any other colonies in America. They are nevertheless regarded as flourishing, and consequently as rich, as any of their neighbors.
In the northern colonies—Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, the four governments of New England, etc.—the value of their own produce exported to Great Britain does not equal that of the manufactured goods they import for their own use and for the use of some other colonies for which they act as carriers. A balance must therefore be paid to the mother country in gold and silver, and they generally find that balance.
In the sugar colonies, the value of the produce exported annually to Great Britain far exceeds that of all the goods imported from there. If the sugar and rum sent each year to the mother country were paid for in those colonies, Great Britain would have to send out a very large balance in money every year; and a certain kind of politician would consider trade with the West Indies extremely disadvantageous. But many of the principal owners of the sugar plantations happen to live in Great Britain. Their rents are remitted to them in sugar and rum, the produce of their estates. The sugar and rum that West India merchants buy in those colonies on their own account are worth less than the goods they sell there each year. A balance, therefore, must necessarily be paid to them in gold and silver, and this balance, too, is generally found.
The difficulty and irregularity of payment from the different colonies to Great Britain have borne no relation to the size of the balances respectively due from them. Payments have generally been more regular from the northern colonies than from the tobacco colonies, though the former have generally paid a fairly large balance in money, while the latter have paid either no balance or a much smaller one. The difficulty of obtaining payment from our different sugar colonies has varied less with the size of their respective balances than with the amount of uncultivated land they contained: that is, with the greater or smaller temptation for planters to trade beyond their means, or to settle and plant more waste land than their capitals could support. For this reason the returns from the great island of Jamaica, where much land remains uncultivated, have generally been more irregular and uncertain than those from the smaller islands of Barbadoes, Antigua, and St. Christopher’s. These have been fully cultivated for many years and have therefore offered less scope for the planter’s speculations. The new acquisitions of Grenada, Tobago, St. Vincent’s, and Dominica have opened a new field for speculations of this kind; and returns from those islands have lately been as irregular and uncertain as those from the great island of Jamaica.
It is not, then, the poverty of the colonies that causes the present scarcity of gold and silver money in most of them. Their great demand for active and productive stock makes it advantageous to hold as little idle stock as possible and leads them to make do with an instrument of commerce cheaper, though less convenient, than gold and silver. They can thereby turn the value of that gold and silver into the instruments of trade, the materials for clothing, household furniture, and the ironwork needed to build and extend their settlements and plantations. In those branches of business that cannot be conducted without gold and silver money, it appears that they can always find the necessary quantity of those metals. If they frequently fail to find it, that failure is generally the result not of unavoidable poverty but of needless and excessive enterprise. Their payments are irregular and uncertain not because they are poor, but because they are too eager to become exceedingly rich. Even if all the proceeds of colonial taxes beyond what was needed to meet the expense of their own civil and military establishments had to be remitted to Great Britain in gold and silver, the colonies have ample means to purchase the necessary quantity of those metals. They would, in that case, have to exchange for idle stock some of the surplus produce with which they now buy active and productive stock. In conducting their domestic business, they would have to employ a costly rather than a cheap instrument of commerce; and the cost of purchasing that instrument might somewhat damp the vigor and ardor of their excessive enterprise in improving land. It might not, however, be necessary to remit any part of the American revenue in gold and silver. It could be remitted in bills drawn on, and accepted by, particular merchants or companies in Great Britain to whom part of America’s surplus produce had been consigned. After receiving its value in goods themselves, they would pay the American revenue into the treasury in money; and the entire transaction could often be conducted without exporting a single ounce of gold or silver from America.
It is not unjust for both Ireland and America to contribute toward paying off Great Britain’s public debt. That debt was contracted to support the government established by the Revolution—a government to which the Protestants of Ireland owe not only all the authority they now enjoy in their own country, but every security they possess for their liberty, property, and religion; a government to which several American colonies owe their present charters, and consequently their present constitutions, and to which all the American colonies owe the liberty, security, and property they have enjoyed ever since. That public debt was contracted in defense not of Great Britain alone, but of all the different provinces of the empire. The immense debt contracted in the late war in particular, and a great part of the debt contracted in the preceding war, were both properly incurred in defense of America.
By uniting with Great Britain, Ireland would gain, besides freedom of trade, other advantages far more important, which would more than compensate for any increase in taxes accompanying that union. Through the union with England, the middle and lower ranks of people in Scotland gained complete deliverance from the power of an aristocracy that had always oppressed them before. Through a union with Great Britain, most people of every rank in Ireland would gain an equally complete deliverance from a far more oppressive aristocracy: one founded not, like Scotland’s, on the natural and respectable distinctions of birth and fortune, but on the most odious distinctions of all, those of religious and political prejudice. More than any others, these distinctions inflame both the arrogance of the oppressors and the hatred and indignation of the oppressed, and commonly make the inhabitants of one country more hostile to one another than the inhabitants of different countries ever are. Without a union with Great Britain, the inhabitants of Ireland are unlikely, for many ages, to regard themselves as one people.
No oppressive aristocracy has ever prevailed in the colonies. Even so, they too would gain considerably in happiness and tranquility from a union with Great Britain. It would at least free them from the bitter and virulent factions inseparable from small democracies, factions that have so often divided the loyalties of their people and disturbed the tranquility of their governments, whose form is so nearly democratic. In the event of a complete separation from Great Britain, which seems very likely unless prevented by such a union, these factions would become ten times more virulent than ever. Before the present disturbances began, the mother country’s coercive power had always been able to prevent those factions from erupting into anything worse than gross brutality and insult. If that coercive power were entirely removed, they would probably soon erupt into open violence and bloodshed. In all large countries united under one uniform government, the spirit of party generally prevails less in remote provinces than at the center of the empire. Their distance from the capital, the principal arena of the great scramble for factional advantage and ambition, makes them less involved in the designs of any contending party and more detached and impartial spectators of the conduct of all. The spirit of party prevails less in Scotland than in England. Under a union it would probably prevail less in Ireland than in Scotland; and the colonies would probably soon enjoy a degree of concord and unanimity now unknown in any part of the British empire. Both Ireland and the colonies would, it is true, be subject to heavier taxes than any they now pay. Yet if public revenue were diligently and faithfully applied to paying off the national debt, most of those taxes need not last long, and Great Britain’s public revenue could soon be reduced to what was needed to maintain a moderate peacetime establishment.
The territorial acquisitions of the East India Company, which belong by unquestionable right to the Crown—that is, to the state and people of Great Britain—might become another source of revenue, perhaps more abundant than all those already mentioned. Those countries are described as more fertile and extensive than Great Britain, and, in proportion to their extent, much richer and more populous. To draw a large revenue from them, it would probably be unnecessary to introduce any new system of taxation into countries already sufficiently, indeed more than sufficiently, taxed. It might be more proper to lighten rather than increase the burden on those unfortunate countries, and to seek revenue from them not by imposing new taxes, but by preventing the embezzlement and misuse of most of the taxes they already pay.
If Great Britain should prove unable to draw any considerable increase in revenue from the resources mentioned above, her only remaining recourse is to reduce her expenditure. In both the collection and the expenditure of public revenue, though there may still be room for improvement in each, Great Britain seems at least as economical as any of her neighbors. The military establishment she maintains for her own defense in peacetime is more moderate than that of any European state able to rival her in either wealth or power. None of these expenses, therefore, seems open to any considerable reduction. The expense of the colonies’ peacetime establishment was very considerable before the present disturbances began, and it is an expense that can, and, if no revenue can be drawn from them, certainly should, be eliminated altogether. Yet this constant peacetime expense, great as it is, is insignificant beside what the defense of the colonies has cost us in war. The last war, undertaken entirely on account of the colonies, cost Great Britain, as already observed, upwards of ninety millions. The Spanish war of 1739 was undertaken chiefly on their account; in it and in the French war that followed, Great Britain spent upwards of forty millions, a great part of which should justly be charged to the colonies. In those two wars the colonies cost Great Britain much more than twice the sum of the national debt before the first war began. Without those wars, that debt might, and probably would by now, have been completely paid off; and without the colonies, the first of those wars might not, and the second certainly would not, have been undertaken. This expense was incurred on their behalf because the colonies were supposed to be provinces of the British empire. But countries that contribute neither revenue nor military force to sustain the empire cannot be considered provinces. They may perhaps be considered appendages, a kind of splendid and showy equipage of the empire. But if the empire can no longer bear the expense of maintaining this equipage, it should certainly put it aside; and if it cannot increase its revenue in proportion to its expense, it should at least bring its expense into line with its revenue. If the colonies, despite refusing to submit to British taxes, are still to be considered provinces of the British empire, their defense in some future war may cost Great Britain as much as it has in any past war. For more than a century, the rulers of Great Britain have entertained the people with the notion that they possessed a great empire on the western side of the Atlantic. This empire, however, has so far existed only in the imagination. It has been not an empire but the project of an empire; not a gold mine but the project of a gold mine—a project that has cost, still costs, and, if pursued as it has been, is likely to cost immense sums without bringing any profit. For, as has been shown, the effects of the monopoly of colonial trade amount to a mere loss rather than a profit for the great body of the people. Surely it is now time for our rulers either to make this golden dream a reality—the dream in which they, perhaps, as well as the people, have been indulging—or to wake from it themselves and try to wake the people. If the project cannot be completed, it should be abandoned. If any provinces of the British empire cannot be made to contribute to the support of the whole empire, it is surely time for Great Britain to free herself from the expense of defending those provinces in war and supporting any part of their civil or military establishment in peace, and to adjust her future aims and designs to the true modesty of her circumstances.